Please, Kill Me (Jeff the Killer x Reader)

Chapter 7 ✓

I slumped against the old sofa, my muscles slightly aching after cleaning the house as if finally I used them after sleeping and resting for days. I even noticed that he has television---those old looking rectangular shaped with two antennas at the top--- which I am surprised still working, but when I flicked it on, a grainy news feed flickered to life. I toggled through the channels, but only one came through-a local station reporting on the rising crime rates at Oakwood Highway, nothing new.

Hours bled into one another. The news grew repetitive, and boredom began to gnaw at me. Outside, the world had plunged into darkness. With nothing left to distract me, I decided to explore the house-specifically the doors that remained stubbornly locked.

I wanted to understand the man who intended to kill me. From the fragments of stories I'd gathered, the rumors were starting to feel like cold, hard facts. People said he'd gone insane after his bullies tried to kill him. In a twisted way, we weren't so different. I had been bullied verbally and emotionally, while his scars were physical-a violence that nearly ended him. In contrast of me, I am still alive and haven't gone insane yet, though I often wondered why I bothered to keep going especially now that my parents are gone, I have no other reason to live anymore.

I continue to wander around the house and ended up in the rustic white-door next to my own room. I tried the handle of the door but its locked. I scoured the main floor for a key but found nothing. Then, I remembered..

The basement.

I do not know why I even think that a key is somewhere there, but I just assume since he is always hanging out in there. I hurried downstairs and surprisingly, I was right about the key is in there. I even try to look around the area because the last time I came here is the time I saw that girl alive, but now its empty.. it feels eerie. And right about the contents of the trash bags I'd seen him carrying earlier, the metallic scent of blood still clung to the chair and floor; the axe leaning against the wall was still stained a dark, crusty crimson.

My fingers trembled as I grabbed the key and rushed back upstairs. Standing once again in front of the locked door, I hesitated to put the key in the keyhole and twist the knob open. If he caught me breaking in, he'd be furious. I'll just make it quick, I promised myself.

The room was surprisingly sparse, containing nothing but a desk near the window. I approached it slowly, my eyes landing on a framed photograph of two young boys. One had dark hair that looked strikingly like Jeff's. Was this him before the madness? And the boy beside him-is that his brother?

My head throbbed as I tried to piece the puzzle together. If the rumors were true, Jeff had almost killed his bullies, and his brother had taken the fall for his crimes. That would mean the boy in the photo was...

I stepped back, dizziness washing over me. I flinched as I bumped into something solid. Not something. Someone.

"Why are you here?" he snarled and I couldn't help but gulp in nervousness.

Even the shadows hides his face due to the afternoon light through the window far from us, I could still feel his rage. He snatched the frame from my hand, glaring at the frozen image before locking his eyes onto mine.

"Your habit of disobeying me will lead you nowhere," he hissed. "And now you're poking your nose into someone else's business?"

"I... I was just curious," I stammered, backing away. He made me flinch when he slammed his knife into the wooden desk, leaning in until our faces were inches apart. I leaned back till I was nearly lying on the desk where the frame was placed earlier.

"Don't you know curiosity kills the cat?"

"I'm not a cat," I whispered. "And I'm sorry."

He froze, seemingly shocked by my bluntness. A moment later, he let out a dark, dry laugh and straightened up.