Please, Kill Me (Jeff the Killer x Reader)

Chapter 17 ✓

The alarm on my phone cut through the silence of the room, a jarring reminder of a life I’d tried to leave behind. 7:30 PM. For years, this was the time I took my medicine—the pills that were supposed to "fix" me. I’d stopped taking them months ago. They were a lie, and I was tired of lying.

I dismissed the alarm and scrolled through my gallery. My thumb hovered over a photo and a video from a lifetime ago.

"Happy birthday, dear! What’s your wish?" Mom had been beaming, the candlelight reflecting in her eyes. I remembered the smell of the cake, the weight of Dad’s hand on my shoulder.

"I want to go back to our hometown, Mom," I whispered.

"I know it’s tough, Y/N," Dad had sighed. "But Daddy’s work is here. Do you really want to leave me here all alone?" Dad pouted.

Mom had knelt beside me, squeezing my hand. "Don’t worry. We’ll go back soon. We’ll be with the other family again. Promise."

"Promise?"

"We promise, Y/N."

A promise broken by a stretch of highway and a spray of glass. I bit my lip, trying to stifle the sob that threatened to tear out of my throat, but the tears wouldn't stop. I covered my face, shaking with the force of a grief that felt as fresh as the night it happened.

Child.

I gasped, looking up through tear-blurred eyes. Slender stood by the window, his presence silent and looming.

I apologize for intruding without permission. But why do you weep?

I sat up, wiping my eyes. Strangely, the crushing weight in my chest eased slightly. Being near him felt... familiar. Like the quiet authority of my father. "It’s... it’s okay, Slender."

Do you need someone to talk to? He sat on the edge of the bed despite his size, his faceless head turned toward the far wall. It is better to let the fire out than to let it burn you from the inside. Soon, it will explode without warning.

"I’m just... not used to talking about my problems," I whispered, staring at my lap.

You do not have to be used to it to begin. But I will not force you. I came to tell you that dinner is prepared. You must eat.

I nodded silently. He stood up, but stopped at the door, his voice echoing in my mind with a strange, heavy wisdom.

Stop hurting yourself over and over. Face the reality. It is painful, yes, but you must be stronger than the pain.

I watched him leave, his words ringing in my ears. Why did everyone want me to live? Why did my mother’s ghost wish for me to stay in a world that had done nothing but break me? Reality wasn't something I could just "face"—it was the thing that was killing me. Should I just enjoy the life while I still can?

I decided to go to the dining room and I found it as a hive of activity. The "family" was gathered around a massive table, passing plates and bickering like a normal household, if you ignored the masks and the bloodstains. Jeff was leaning against the wall, idly flicking his knife.

He caught me staring. Before I could look away, two hands dropped onto my shoulders.

"Princess! You made it!" Candy chirped, pulling out a chair for me.

"Thanks, Candy. I’m sorry I didn’t help with the food—"

"Don’t worry about it. Sit!"

I sat down, feeling the sudden weight of Jeff’s presence as he slid into the chair next to me---purposely stealing Lj's chair while his arm brushing mine.

"That's my seat," LJ hissed from behind Jeff, his long fingers twitching.

"Well, not anymore," Jeff snapped without looking up.  LJ scowled and moved to a different chair, muttering under his breath.

"Rude," Candy whispered to me once he managed to sit on the other side next to me.

"Hey, woman," Jeff said stealing my attention, his voice low and private despite the crowded table. "Tomorrow, we’re leaving this place."

"Okay," I replied, reaching for a plate of pork steak. "But stop calling me 'woman.' I have a name. It’s Y/N."

"I don't care, like I said, I can call you whatever I want," Jeff muttered.

"So serious and cold!" Candy giggled from my other side.

"I wasn't asking for your opinion, you colorful freak," Jeff spat.

"Oh, did you call me funny? Thank you!" Candy beamed.

"The fuck? Did you hear me call you funny? Just shut up, freak!"

"Why would I? Does my voice keep echoing in that head of yours? How wonderful!"

"Fuck you."

"I always do.. at night." Candy wink and I just ate silently while being caught in the crossfire of their bickering. It was almost funny to see Jeff so easily rattled by a clown with a sense of humor.

So, Jeffery, Slender’s voice cut through the noise. You still refuse to stay with us?

Jeff leaned back, his lidless eyes fixed on the ceiling. "A million times, no."

And you, Y/N?

The table went silent. Every eye—mask, socket, and stitched lid—turned toward me. I looked at the delicious food, then at Candy’s hopeful smile, then at the heavy, dark elegance of the room. It was objectively better than the shack. It was safe.

"Woman, why are you hesitating?" Jeff growled, his elbow nudging mine.

"Stay here, Princess," Candy urged. "This place is a castle compared to that dump."

I took a deep breath. I looked at Jeff. He looked uncomfortable here, out of place among the "organized" monsters. He was raw chaos, and somehow, I had become part of that chaos.

"I..." I started, the room leaning in. "I’m not staying."

A collective sigh and a few gasps ripples around the table.

"You really want to be with him, huh?" Candy asked, his voice falling flat.

"That’s her answer," Jeff smirked, his permanent grin looking particularly triumphant. "Sorry to disappoint."

"Whatever, prick," Rogue muttered in which I still heard because she is not far from us.

If that is your decision, Y/N... so be it. Tomorrow—

"I changed my mind. We aren't waiting for tomorrow," Jeff said, suddenly standing up and snatching my wrist. "We’re leaving now. Bye."

That surprised me, I haven't even finished my food when he starts to began pulling me toward the door before anyone could protest. Slender raised a hand, stopping the others from interfering. I managed a small wave back to them as Jeff dragged me into the hallway.

"Why the rush?" I asked, stumbling to keep up. "We didn't even finish—"

"I miss our home," he grunted without even looking back but it made me froze for a split second and my heart skipping a beat.

Our home? He didn't say "the house." He didn't say "my place." He said ours.