.: Your POV :.
The weekend was finally here. Now, this usually meant a lot of things, like getting to hang out with your mom more, calling dad, and hanging out with friends. Of course, with that killer running around, it was different. Your mom noticed the papers and once she had made the connection between you and the bullies, she enforced that you should not leave the house without her and when you went out, you needed to stay close to her.
So now you sat in your room, on the floor, watching the light glint off the shiny knife that white hooded teen gave you. It was almost a shame you couldn’t use it, but there was no way you’d lower it’s beauty to chopping vegetables or cutting meat. With the deadly sharp edge, you suspected it was for defending yourself, but with your bullies dropping dead, now what purpose could it serve?
You sighed and put the knife back in the box it had came in, then put it back in your secret hiding place and headed downstairs. Just as your foot touched the bottom floor, there was a knock on the door. Well, three knocks, to be honest.
Wondering who it could be, you walked over to the door and peeked out the eyepiece. Nobody was there, but you opened the door anyways. You looked around, down and-Is that a letter?
You picked it up, looking at the envelope curiously. You frowned when you saw the front. Like some kind of cheesy serial killer novel, whoever had left it had taken words from a magazine (judging by the shiny look and smooth feel of the paper) and glued then to the envelope, spelling your name.
Going back inside, (and locking the door, like your mom told you to) you opened the letter and peered inside. There were photographs... The light slipping through the white paper hinted at what was on the pictures, and everything seemed to drop and go cold.
You pulled them out, laid them out on the couch and looked at each one. The first two were your two best friends. Like your bullies, it looks like they got bleached and burned. Their eyelids were gone. However, instead of a frown carved into their faces, they got a smile...
You eyes went to the next one, and had you not been in numb horror, you might have screamed bloody murder. The next picture was Alexander. He was the worse, frown carved so deeply into his skin bone was showing and it went as far as the killer could go with it. He looked like he’d also been burned, but unlike the bullies and your friends, it looked like the killer had burned pieces of his body. Other parts of his body looked god-awful, like the killer had been dripping acid or some other harmful chemical here and there on his body.
Without even noticing, you began to cry and tremble in shock. You noticed there was a small, barely noticeable arrow pointing to the edge of the picture that held Alex’s body and you flipped it over. Written on the back (with actual handwriting) it simply read, “Be prepared.” This further caused you hysteria, yet you didn’t make the move to call your mom (who was out do some shopping and hopefully picking up your dad). In fact, the idea couldn’t even really make it’s way into your head since you were crying, shaking and panicking so much.
You managed to snatch the pictures in your left hand and stumble up the stairs to your room. Your sobs echoed through the house as you climbed up the stairs to your room and, once you were there, pulled your knife out and held it in your left. There you sat, rocking yourself gently while tears poured down your face and you clutched the two objects in a tight, white knuckled grip.
A few hours later, night was falling and you woke up from an unexpected sleep. Shuffling noises were heard downstairs and guessing by the quiet steps they took, it sounded like two or three robbers. Your hands, once relaxing, returned to their tight grip. You stood up carefully, setting the pictures down on your bed and creeping over to the door on light feet.
You cracked open the door, suddenly blessing the smooth way it opened without a sound and peered down at the bottom floor. You couldn’t really see anyone, so made a wild guess that they had to be in the kitchen. You took each step like it was your last, quietly making your way down. As you had suspected, no one was in the living room. Here and there, you noticed various trinkets missing. Despite the fear, you felt a twinge of anger toward the thieves.
Slipping over and pressing yourself against the wall, you inched over to the kitchen doorway and peeked in. Three masked guys were shuffling through the kitchen, unaware of your presence. They grabbed some sliverware, various food, and other little trinkets your mom had in the kitchen.
Turning away from them, you looked back down at your gift, watching it gleam, even without light. The knowledge of what you were about to do was horrifying, but you knew it was something you had to do. Without another thought, you lunged into the kitchen and stabbed the closet one in the back.
.: Jeff’s POV :.
I paced around (Name’s) house, wondering how I was supposed to do this. As if luck had given me an unneeded break, her mother got into a car crash on her way to the airport and the airplane her father was in crashed, since the gas tank had a leak not only starting a fire, but with an explosion and a crash into the earth. Nobody survived.
That was all fine and dandy, but now I had to come up with something on the spot. I was scary enough to normal people and I didn’t want to scary my little knife out her socks... I was supposed to be a good looking guy, not a window creeper!
I had just decided to let the whole thing go to hell and abduct her until I heard a male voice cry out in pain from inside. My mind set on attack, I ran into her home (was she just asking for danger? She really needed to lock her door more often...), and saw her standing in the kitchen, one black masked man on the ground and bleeding from the back. Her eyes were wide and frightened, the knife I gave her covered in blood.
For the first, real time, she looked back and our eyes met. This was how we got to meet, how ironic. Before she could say anything to me or vice versa, one of the robbers snapped out of his trance and tried to punch (Name). I pulled out my own knife, slashing at his closed fist. The man screamed bloody murder and to my pleasure, I saw his pinky had been nearly cut off.
The other guy rushed forward and (Name), whether out of fear, shock or instinct, covered me, bringing her knife down and sinking the blade right beneath his ribcage. I took the split second to stab him right in the heart. The same guy from before tried to get us again, and I kicked guy #3 and whipped around to-Accidentally cut his head off.
(Name) screamed behind me, and even though it hurt my ears, I couldn’t blame her too much. I mean, c’mon, it’s not like she’s been killing people as long as I have. She would have time to get used to it eventually. The guy she had stabbed earlier was trying to crawl away. Not one to let the kill get away, I kicked him repeatedly until his back was on the ground, then I stabbed him in the neck.
Pulling my knife out, I looked around for (Name), who had suddenly disappeared. She wasn’t too hard to locate, sitting on the couch, knife still in hand, crying and rocking back and forth. I sighed, watching her for a minute or two. She really needed an education in killing people.
“Wh-Who... Who a-are you?” she finally asked, (e/c) eyes looking over at me as the rocking began to slow.
“Jeff. Jeff the killer, little knife.” I said with a grin. I couldn’t help it if I’m proud of my title! Her eyes widened and I took the hint they were giving me. “Yes, the flowers, the knife, those photos, the dead bullies... All done by me.” I raised my hands, showing my palms. “No need to thank me.”
It was quiet for awhile and I watched her curiously. (Name) stared at me in disbelief before suddenly launching at me, her knife flying from her hand and landing somewhere in the floor. Her hands went around my neck as we fell and she seemed to be strangling me and knocking my head onto the floor, repeatedly.
“Why?!” she screamed in my face. “WHY DID YOU DO IT? MY FRIENDS, ALEXANDER... THE BULLIES DIDN’T DESERVE THAT!!!” If I had a proper amount of air, I would’ve laughed. And I thought she needed violence training! I grabbed her wrists with my hands and, with effort, managed to pull her fingers off my throat and roll her over until she was under me.
“Not that you could change that, you know.” I murmured, fingers rubbing her wrists absently as tears continued to stream down her face. “They’re dead, and you can’t do anything about it.” I stuck my tongue out, licking her tears away. I pleased to see that when I was done, my little knife was blushing and looking rather uncomfortable.
“You know... I wonder...” One of my hands trailed down her arm, raising goosebumps as my fingers trailed from there to-
“Jeff, where the hell-?” I turned around, as well as (Name) to see BEN, who was staring at us with a confused look. “Am... Am I interrupting something?” I glanced down at my little knife, who was now panicking worse then before. Muttering a quick, “Sorry” I grabbed my knife and hit her on the head with the handle, knocking her out cold.
“BEN! What the fuck?” I said, getting up. “I’ve been telling you for months now, that I am busy and you pull a stupid stunt like this? What the hell is so bad, you had to go and find me?”
BEN sighed, tugging his hat down awkwardly. “Well, first... Jane found our hideout and is trying to break down the door. Secondly, Smile needs to be fed and he won’t take anything I give him! Also, Slendy wants your opinion on a victim. He thinks that this one could be more trouble then it’s worth and might want you to drag them in.”
“.... Let me first say, that you just made my life sound like a pointless, bloody job.” I sighed, wanting to repeatedly whack my head on some bricks. (I did my best to hide a smile at what else I could do...) “Anyway, let’s just go back before (Name) wakes up.” BEN paused, leaning to the side a little to see.
“Oh, she’s cute. Where’d you find her?” BEN asked curiously. I gave him a dark glare and he leaned back, hands up. “Alright, I get it! She’s yours, let’s go.” I quickly went back a bit to pick up her knife, pick up my own, then heft (Name) onto my shoulder. Halfway near BEN, he teleported us back home.
.: ??? :.
Outside, two masked figures watched the scene take place, from beginning to end, when Jeff left with (Name). They looked at each other and even though they couldn’t see the other’s face, they knew this was bad.