Crappy Pastas

TitleJeff the Killer Fanfic Part 2


Jeff suddenly pulled me out the back door and into the dark alley behind the club. I yelped at the sudden movement as he slammed me against the brick wall, making my headache unbearable. “Goddammit. Shit, shit, shit!” He muttered, pacing back and forth, fingering something in his pocket while running a hand through his hair frustratedly. I stood there dumbly and watched him. I didn’t know what to do, what could I do? I thought we were having such a good time… He kicked a garbage can over, his shoulders trembling and his breathing ragged. “Jeff?” I asked hesitantly. He didn’t say anything, just continued to rub something in his pocket. My heart sped up as I slowly approached him, as I placed my hand on his shoulder, he whirled around, throwing me to the ground and straddling me. He held his hand over my mouth as I tried to screech for help. From his pocket, he held a cruel looking knife. His eyes were wild, his mouth in a wide Cheshire grin. I struggled from underneath him but it was all in vain. Jeff held the blade close to my cheek, touching the tip to my cheek. “Don’t struggle…D-Don’t make a sound.” he warned. I whimpered underneath his hand. Oh Jesus, Amber was right! Fuck, fuck, fuck, what can I do? “I saw you in your apartment…” he hissed, his face coming close to mine. “You were beautiful…….you’re s-still beautiful….but the feeling….” He muttered, a slight chuckle escaped his throat. My eyes frantically searched his face, the face that was so sexy to me was now my worst nightmare. “I w-w-want to hurt you….the feeling…it-it tells me to hurt people….kill them.” he said, sliding the tip of the knife across my face. “And then I saw you again. Your hair…it-it changed…but I liked it. It’s like mine.” he grabbed a lock of his own hair then let it fall. “I’ve killed lots and lots and lots of people Annie. I’ve stabbed them..gutted them..slit their throats….tortured them…..and-and I wanted to kill you…to make you GO TO SLEEP….but..” he paused, that confused look creeping across his face. “I-I can’t…” This time it was my turn to look confused. “I’m…confused?” he said, almost like it was a question, like he doesn’t recognize his own feelings. “I f-f-feel something….in here.” He points the tip of the knife to where his heart is. I blinked away a tear that pooled in my eye and felt it run down my cheek. “Oh don’t worry, I won’t hurt you.” he said, still holding his knife to my cheek again. “The feeling tells me to but I won’t…I meant what I said back there. Y-You’re mine.” he growled. He let go of my mouth but still didn’t get off of me. “Tell me that you are mine.” he whispered, the murderous look vanishing and replaced with an almost childlike anxiety. I swallowed the lump in my throat, my mouth as dry as cotton. “I-I am….yours..” I breathed. Jeff smiled wide, like he won the lottery or something. He put the knife back into his pocket and studied my face closely, his smile turning into a frown. “What is it? What is it about..y-you?” he murmured. I mustered up enough courage to sit up, forcing him to take a few steps back, but not letting my legs free of his weight. “You think I’m beautiful?” I asked, trying to take the conversation into a more lighter tone. Jeff nodded vigorously. “Oh yes. Yes, yes, yes.” he said, eyes brightening. His hand snaked out from under his sleeve to caress my neck, tracing my skin slowly to my jawline, then to my cheeks. He brushed my bangs out of my eyes, as he leaned in close. “I think you are too,” I whispered, swallowing nervously. His brows came together and he felt his face, confused. “But, when people see me…they think I’m ugly.” he said. I shifted my legs, trying to hint that I wanted to stand. Jeff realized this and stood up, helping me to my feet. “I never thought you were ugly.” I said, brushing off my dress. “In fact, I thought you were mysterious….sexy even.” Jeff took a step back like I slapped him. “R-Really?” he asked. I nodded, my heart slowing to a steady pace. Even though Jeff was a full grown man, his emotions were as sporadic as a child’s. What could have happened to him that made him this way? I decided against asking him outright, I didn’t want to push his…feeling. “You want to go back inside?” I asked, gesturing to the door. He shuffled his feet, looking uncertain. “S-Sure…” he said. I held out my hand, which he took after a moment’s pause. “Let’s take things slow, okay?” I said before we went in. He nodded, swishing his hair in front of his face. The music was still as loud as ever and I winced as my headache pounded my left frontal lobe of my brain. I quickly looked for Amber in the throng of gothic bodies. There, I spotted her at our booth, sipping a Shirley Temple and tapping her foot impatiently. “Oh geez,” I sighed, bracing myself for the inevitable doom. As I approached, Amber saw me and practically leaped to her feet, grabbing her coat. “Oh my God, there you are. Dude, seriously, I was about to call a search party because-” she stopped when she saw Jeff behind me. Her eyes widened and she gave me the “What the fuck?” look. “Uh, Amber, this is Jeff. Jeff, this is my best friend and roommate, Amber.” Jeff nodded stiffly, while Amber nodded once, her look of suspicion clear on her face. Oh great, this will end in disaster! My subconscious groaned. Well no duh, Jeff confessed to wanting to kill me a few seconds ago and here I am introducing him to my best friend! What the hell is wrong with me? Amber shifted her weight on her other leg, looking at me expectantly. “Sooo, are we leaving or what?” she asked. I looked back at Jeff, who was now looking at me with worry on his face. “Don’t go,” he whispered. Oh, well this is just peachy! I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place. I sighed, deciding I should probably start heading home. It was late, and the crowd was beginning to thin out. “I’ll meet you outside,” I said to Amber. She sighed with relief and walked stiffly past Jeff, giving me the “I’m watching you” sign. I sat down at the booth, motioning for Jeff to follow. He sat down right next to me, which surprised me a little. I mean, I figured he would sit across. He didn’t look at me, he just stared at the table and picked at his sweater. “I have to go home now,” I murmured, looking at him. He shrugged, “I know,” he mumbled. “I have class tomorrow.” I continued, trying to convince him that I wasn’t leaving because he scared the shit out of me. This time he looked at me, and I was relieved to see that he wasn’t mad or sad or…something else. “So….after your classes…w-will we see each other again?” he asked, looking like an excited child on Christmas day. He looks so cute when he’s like this. How can I say no? I nodded, giving him a smile. “Yeah. We can go hang out somewhere if you want.” He nodded. Then his brow furrowed, “But, aren’t you scared?” he asked, looking nervous. I shrugged, carefully planning out what I was going to say. “I was at first. But even though you may be dangerous, you’re a good guy, I can tell. And truth be told, I’m always around the “odd” people.” I said, giving him a small grin to make him feel better. “I want to help you, kind of. I’m not really sure how to put it.” I scratched my head, at a loss for words. Jeff looked equally confused, frowning at the table and tapping his finger on his chin. I stood to go, Jeff following my movements and allowing me to scoot my way out. As I put on my coat and headed for the door I paused, turning back to look at him. He was watching me with a blank expression, almost sad. I rushed over to him and hugged him, surprising us both. I felt his hesitant arms wrap around me, returning the hug. “See ya,” I said, kissing him on the side of his cheek where his scars were. He blinked in shock, eyes wide. I headed for the door, waving goodbye as I left. As I walked down the street to where Amber was waiting, I beamed at her. She rolled her eyes at me and linked arms with me, raising her eyebrow at me. “Okay, when we get back, we will talk about this tomorrow at lunch, got it?” she said. I shrugged, glancing back at the club. There was a drunk guy stumbling out and staggering down the street singing drunken songs, but in the shadows, I could’ve sworn I saw a skinny man in a white hoodie following behind him….. That night, after I had brushed my teeth and washed off my makeup I crawled into bed to sleep. The events of my day swam through my mind as I stared at the glow in the dark stars that decorated my ceiling. Even though I came so close to my probable death, I wasn’t swayed. This man…Jeff…intrigued me more than the cuts on my wrists and arms. Even though I should’ve reported him to the police, even though he murdered innocent people, even though he’s probably as crazy as the Mad Hatter, I wanted to see him again. Is that weird? Something inside me told me I had to care for him, to protect him from this mad world we live in. He was like a little bullied kid, angry that the bullies preyed on him, but afraid to talk to anyone….just like me. The faces of those brats that terrorized me all my years of high school swam in my field of vision. I grit my teeth with anger. They’re better than you. My subconscious crooned at me. I shut my eyes to block them out, block out everything. They don’t understand you, darling. My mother’s voice echoed in my head. It was what she would say when I came home crying. You’re a unique girl, sweetheart. Those girls at school don’t know how to accept something they don’t understand. “Something they don’t understand.” I said to myself. I wondered if Jeff was bullied like I was, if he went home crying like I did. Did his bullies corner him and call him a freak? Did they beat him up, or spill milk on his head? I could never retaliate, even though I wanted to badly to claw their smirks out with my nails. To beat their faces into a bloody pulp, or set their perfect little houses on fire and watch them burn, burn, burn. But Jeff was probably stronger than I ever was, and I bet he fought back….I turned onto my right, punching my pillows to get them decently fluffy. Jeff, Jeff, Jeff. All I’m thinking about is Jeff. Jeff the Killer, the name fit perfectly. Finally, my mind wandered into another troubled sleep, something I was familiar with since the crash. Again and again my mind revisited that awful day, going through every agonizing emotion and thought. God, I hated it when it did this. My mind showed me in the morgue, identifying my family’s bodies since some of them were disgustingly and horribly disfigured from the metal and glass. I remember my mother’s and father’s faces were mashed like raw hamburger, and my little sister had a grotesque gash in the middle of her face. My brother and his son, they both died in each other’s arms. Both died of head trauma, but that didn;t stop their dead, pale eyes from staring straight into my soul, burning my mind with the image…. That day I was a dumb statue, my eyes crying rivers of tears. I remembered the trial of the drunken driver: Randy Mills. That bastard. He only got ten years in prison, and five year probation for the death of my family. Ten, fucking years! That son of a bitch should’ve gotten life! I remembered looking at him in the courtroom, how he cried like a whiny baby to the jury. I wanted to kill him right then and there. Just launch myself across the room and attack. Choke the breath out of him, or take a knife and rip his guts open and bathe in his blood, so he could feel the pain I was feeling…… And then I saw Jeff. Everything and everyone stopped at a stand still, as if time itself had stopped. His face had an eerie Cheshire Cat smile on it, as he put his finger to his lips. “Shhh, come here,” he whispered, his voice scratchy and hoarse. I walked slowly over to him, and took his outstretched hand. He led me through the courtroom doors, into darkness. I couldn’t see anything but he walked confidently through the room…and switched on the light. Immediately, I saw dozens of dead bodies of all ages, strewn about in various stages of decay. Some were positioned like a family sitting on a couch and watching a movie. Others just stared at me with their sunken pale eyes crying rivers of pus and blood. The stench was unbearable, and I bent over to puke. The ceiling was the worst part: bodies were hanging through holes, looking as if they were reaching out for me, pleading for help. My feet slipped on the floor and I fell on the bodies, flies buzzing in and out of their mouths. I wailed, kicking myself free and Jeff was laughing. Laughing like a madman, shrill, piercing laughter of insanity. The ceiling started to drip blood and Jeff raised his face to it, bathing in it. He got to my feet as he lunged for my hand, pulling me into a waltz. “Jeff? What-?” I was cut off as he started to sing, “Their tears are filling up their glasses…no expression…no expression…hide my head I want to drown my sorrow….no tomorrow…” I tried to wrench my hands from his grip but he squeezed my hand until the circulation was cut off. He stopped spinning me and held my face in his hands. He violently twisted my head to the left….and I saw my family. Except they were dead but…..hanging by threads. As I watched in horror, their dead limbs started to come alive, cutting off their threads they shuffled towards me, hands reaching. Save us… I heard them say in unison. “B-But you;re dead…” I sobbed, struggling against Jeff’s grip. “Look Annie, I found your family. Now we can all be together. Isn;t that lovely?” he purred, scratchy tongue licking the dripping blood off my shoulders, laughing maniacally. I shuddered with revulsion. We thought you loved us… my family cried, mouths hanging open, various bugs and maggots falling out of their wounds. As their claw-like hands touched me, I felt my mind shattering like glass. This is too much. I can’t take it….no, no, no, NO! “LEAVE ME ALONE!” I screeched, ripping myself away from them and Jeff, running for the door. But Jeff was quicker. He swooped in front of me, slashing his knife out at my throat and stabbing it deep into my throat. My own blood bubbled up and out of my mouth, and I watched as Jeff’s smile grew wider and more cruel. “Go….to….sleep…” he hissed. And then there was darkness.

READ:  The Three Kings

Credit To – MelanieCrowleyLycan
Credit Link –

About the Author

Not much is known about Brian Z. Some say it's because he is secretly preparing for the Z poc, others say it's because of the "incident" at Chicago Walker Stalker Con. All that we know for certain is he loves sci-fi, horror, and zombies.

Read: Why We Purchased CrappyPasta

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Scroll to Top

Sharing is Caring

Help spread the word. You're awesome for doing it!