Haunted by Screams (Jeff the Killer)

Prologue - A gruesome Night

Midnight. The air felt dry and extremely cold causing every exhalation to carefully colour the night air white before disappearing. Leaves that had managed to survive the harsh and cold wind on the trees' long and old branches moved swiftly in the breeze along with their siblings on the dirty ground, which had already met their destined fate. The moon let its cold and pale light shine down over the closed park leaving dull and creepy shadows lingering from the old twisted tree trunks, looking similar to hands with long crooked fingers watching like starving spiders sitting in their web, patiently waiting for their prey.

Silence.

Only silence. The one thing which could turn even the sanest and calmest person insane and hysterical if not erased in time. If it hadn't been for his already deranged and unstable mind the silence probably would have gotten to him by now, leaving its cold hand print on his back as a reminder. A low pitched maniacally laugh echoed through the forest forcing the silence away. The laugh jangled in his throat and the cold air caused a slightly pain in his lungs every breath he took.

Pain.

The usually colourful and vivid green grass felt cold through his jeans and had now been given a new colour, a dark reddish one - a much better one. The hoodie witnessed about a time long ago when its only colour had been an innocent childish white one without the now dark red unsettling pattern covering the garment. Shoulder-length and black, thick and long forgotten unwashed hair was hanging in front of his face and by the side of it. The blood-chilling laugh increased in volume. Hands, unnaturally pale with burnt skin held a tight grasp on the thing that was considered the most important tool in his life. Shimmering like pure silver in the cold moonlight with red drops slowly dripping from the cool blade, the hand squeezing it became even paler and presented the scars from the fire even clearer on his hand. The knife was everything. It decided it all. It began it all.

It ended it all.

It made the unbearable desire dormant for a short period of time. Jeff moved the shimmering blade closer to his face, mesmerized by its beauty. His other hand moved on its own and his pale fingers began caressing the weapon eagerly, smearing the thick blood trails on the blade out. The perception of time left his mind and the only thing that mattered was the thick liquid which cascaded from anything his dearest friend touched.

Blood.

He chuckled at how stupid the girl actually had been and how easily he'd fooled her. He didn't understand women at all, mostly because he didn't really care a fuck about them compared to any other normal guy would. But then again he wasn't normal. He didn't want to be normal. 

No he wasn't.

Or maybe he was?

No, that he did know for sure.

But what if he was the sane one and everybody else wasn't?

He couldn't argue with that statement.

They don't understand the favor that's being done for them all.

No. Those insane lunatics they really didn't know. Fucking idiots.

As long as they're alive, we cannot rest.

As long as I'm still here, I can't let them get away.

No.

Never.

The girl's eyes were wide-opened, filled with terror. But the normal light that used to inhabit them were long gone - never to be seen again. And the heart's rapid beating would no more be heard again. Without hesitation he began carving in her flesh tearing the fragile skin around her mouth and her eyelids away. The ground became covered by a new layer of filthy skin and thick semi-coagulated dark blood. After her face had received a new beautiful appearance he proceeded to her stomach were he began cutting in the familiar sentence on her light brown skin. His smile grew greatly and he began laughing hysterically once again. When he had finished his work he looked down on the barely recognizable woman and smiled.

Beautiful.

Just like us.

He felt proud of his artwork and the desire returned to its place in the back of his mind, satisfied. But despite the successful haunt he couldn't help but to feel disappointed. She hadn't even tried to put up a fight. Not because it would have changed the outcome or anything, but it had made it more... interesting if she had.

And more fun.

He rose to his feet and his black converse were covered in blood. Her blood. Women. Why would he care more for them or be more gentle towards them compared to anyone else?

They don't mean anything to us.

Well, there had been one woman he actually one part of his life did care for. The cold wind moved his hair and Jeff's mind started processing images, memories of a life he once had lived but now was nothing more but a bleached picture. An ache in his chest reminded itself of that night, her scream, his father's attempt to save them and Liu's... Jeff snarled and kicked the stiff corpse hard. Damn those fucking memories! Why did he have to remember them now?

The irritation grew greatly and his look fell back onto the girl. With a low, jangled voice he spoke. "You're not her. I did not let her go so why should I've let you?". He placed is knife in his pocket and looked around him.

Tomorrow, this would be the first thing people would wake up to in the morning and hear about on the radio and read about in the newspaper. They would all talk about the gruesome and disgusting murder that had occurred in their normally calm and friendly little town. They would be looking outside the window more frequently, making sure no-one was watching them and never to let their children out of sight again. They would become suspicious against each other and be back home before the dark and the moon came to visit them.

Jeff started walking away from the park and slipped in between the trees, letting the shadows consume and hide him careful not to leave any more trails from him or his direction of walking.

But there will always be those who doesn't care and aren't careful enough about their pathetic lives.

Oh yes - and they'll all sooner or later go to the inevitable sleep, friend.