Creepypasta Origins and Stories

Jane The Killer - Victim's Tears

It all happened five years ago. Five miserable, heart wrenching, painful years since Jane Arkensaw became

who she is today. She became a victim, an avenger and on the break of insanity. She was thirteen when her once normal life began its plummet into an abyssal cesspool of fear, anger and bloodshed.

Jane is a young adult, nearing her eighteenth birthday. Most girls her age would've normally been able to celebrate that arrival in adulthood with their friends and family; but not Jane. Her family and friends were gone, dead, enough, decaying in their graves and only one single insane, animalistic, maniacal madman was responsible for Jane's loneliness: Jeffery Alan Woods, otherwise known as Jeff the Killer.

When Jane was thirteen she'd met Jeff for the first time in her life. At that time she thought little about him, but they still talked. But now she can't get Jeff out of her head. His burnt flesh, seemingly unblinking eyes, his long jet black hair and his carved smile have all been branded and burned into Jane's fragile mind since the traumatizing night those daunting five years ago.

The night it happened was cold, wet and had an atmosphere that made people aware that something that seemed like something that would've been documented in an urban legend was destined to occur at any given moment. Jane was alone at home, minding her own business when she peered out of her bedroom window and noticed Jeff, who'd just gotten out of intensive care at the local hospital after being burned with vodka and bleach four weeks before, was staring at Jane through his bathroom window. He was smiling at Jane, but not with a normal friendly smile, he was smiling at her like Ed Gian just after making a brand new skin suit out of his latest victim. Jane got immensely creeped out by Jeff's psychotic smile and quickly looked away.

When she slowly peered back at the window, she caught a glimpse of what appeared to be fresh, pure red blood smudged across the same window Jeff had been staring at her from. Jeff was also unable to be seen. Jane then realized that something had happened and that there was going to have to be no peace and quiet for her. She bolted out of her bedroom and down the stairs. She then remembered that her parents had gone over to Jeff's home to have dinner with his mother and father. The batteries in Jane's phone were dead and her home phone had its lines cut off over a month ago.

Jane then nearly jumped out of her pale, delicate skin as her ears quickly perked up at the sound of a window loudly smashing in the kitchen. Jane dashed into the kitchen only to notice the scattered shards of the window and a rock with a note attached to it with crossed string. Curiosity got the better of her and Jane untied the crossed string and read the note.

Here's what the note read:

"Jane,

Aren't you coming over for dinner? Your friends are here."

*

As Jane was remembering the events that led up to her life changing forever, she knew what she had just remembered was peanuts compared to the horrific events that'd followed up to the next few life-scaring moments of her now shattered life. Tears slowly began to pour down her pale, pure white cheeks.

When Jane regained her conscious after the blackout she had in her kitchen, she got the feeling that she was tied up against a wooden chair. Her vision was blurred; she could only slightly see smudges of white, red and black. When her vision fully focused, she saw Jeff's now horrifically disfigured face. Jeff still had bleach white skin and jet black hair from when he was discharged from hospital; but this time his face looked even more disturbing: Jeff's eyes were bordered in black and his pupils were dilated. He also now had an elongated smile that trickled with blood. He had taken a knife and carved a smile onto his face so he could smile forever. His white hoodie and black dress pants were dampened with a mixture of blood and the cold autumn rain. Jane tried to loosen her bonds but to no avail. The chair that she was strapped onto was her subconscious trying to hold her back from using violence as a measure of escaping from a threat. All Jane could do was whimper, sob and have a sense of fear that she hadn't had for a long time.