Please, Kill Me (Jeff the Killer x Reader)

Chapter 25 ✓

* Rogue's POV

"How are they? Y/N and Jane?" I asked the moment I stepped into the study room filled by ancient texts and books. Makes me wonder if they were ever used or read or just a display. The air in Slender’s room was always still, heavy with the scent of old parchment and something ancient.

They are both unharmed, his voice resonated directly in my skull, bypasssing my ears. Only Jeff remaines in critical condition. His wounds were deep, but he is resilient. I have provided the strongest restorative tonics I possess.

"I see..." I leaned against his mahogany desk, exhaling a breath I didn't know I’d been holding. I am actually surprised that the human girl did the riskier things that a normal human could've done---by holding a killer in her arms like a forbidden lover in this sick and twisted world. Honestly, I am confused on what's going on in that girl's mind.. she wanted to die, yet she is hesitating sometimes.

And the proxies?, Slender’s faceless head tilted slightly. Did you extract anything from the shadows before they dissipated, Rogue?

"Nothing useful. They were shells, constructs of Zalgo’s will." I answered while cleaning my machete despite I already cleaned it earlier. It's just a habbit of mine that I cannot remove. "But Jane... she knows things. She’s been hunting him longer than any of us have been alive." I paused, my mind drifting back to the clearing. I still couldn't wrap my head around it. The image of Jeff—the most volatile, blood-hungry killer in our ranks—dropping his blade for girl. I already anticipated that once that girl gets closer to his proximity, she will be dead. But I was wrong, for the first time.

I didn't think he’d do it. I thought he’d open her throat the second she got close. But he just... stopped.

Hmm.. you daze out for a moment, Rogue. What's on your mind?

"It’s Jeff. His behavior in the forest... it’s unsettling. It doesn't fit his usual blood-fucking-thirsty profile."

Slender turned toward the massive bay window, the moonlight catching the silver of his tie as if he is in  deep thought as mine. And I am sure he already noticed Jeff's slow changes. Perspective is a fragile thing, Rogue. We all possess a past that serves as our cage. But even a cage can be unlocked if the right key is found.

Ugh, I hated it when he talks so deep like an ancient man---well, he is indeed ancient. "You mean... we can actually stop? Stop being the monsters they say we are?"

That is not a question I can answer for you, he replied softly.

I didn't press further. I knew the truth. Our hands were stained so deeply that no amount of rain could wash them clean. We were the executioners of the world, killing those who—in our twisted logic—deserved it. Humans were animals, and we were the hunters. But seeing Jeff change made me wonder if the cycle could actually be broken. Is there a chance for us to change? After everything we had done? I wonder.. if we even wanted it.

I left the study room and walked toward the infirmary wing. I shut the door quietly, the click of the latch echoing in the hall. Inside, Jeff was awake, though I couldn't tell if he was staring at the ceiling or lost in his own head. Y/N was curled up in a chair beside him, her head resting on the edge of the mattress, deep in an exhausted sleep.

I gripped the hilt of my knife behind my back. He was still a danger. And I could easily end the madness here in case he became insane and went in killing spree again.

"Do you think I’m asleep, Rogue?" Jeff’s voice was a low rasp.

"I had never doubted that." I answered. Obviously, how could he sleep lidlessly?

He let out a dry, jagged huff of a laugh. He shifted, wincing as the bandages on his waist pulled. "Good advice... if you want to finish someone, make sure they’re unarmed." He slid his hand under the pillow, revealing the familiar gleam of his kitchen knife.

I smirked, loosening my grip. "I forgot I have these gloves. I’d hate to ruin that pretty face of yours before it heals."

"Is that a sign of aging, Rogue? Forgetting your own weapons?" he cackled and I want to rip his throat just to not able to hear his irritating voice.

"Tell me, Jeff, I did not know your forte is applying stockholm syndromes to your victims nowadays.." I retorted while crossing my arms, aiming to piss him off. He just scoffs as a reply before I continues, "Why didn't you do it?"

"Attack you while you're standing here like a statue?" he answered while pointing at me.

"No. Why didn't you kill her?." I said and pointed at Y/N who is sleeping next to him. Mentioning her seemed to hit him like a physical blow. He turned his head away, his eyes scanning the sleeping girl. "If you want a fight, wait until I can stand up."

"I don't want a fight. I want the truth." I stepped closer, looking down at Y/N’s peaceful face. "She risked everything for you out there. She offered you her heart on a silver platter. Yet, you did not took it. A cold, blood thirsty man like you.. refused to kill a victim? You've changed, Jeff."

"Changed?" He scoffed, but his hand moved. He didn't reach for his knife. Instead, he placed a hand gently atop Y/N’s head, his fingers brushing her hair with a tenderness that looked completely alien on him. And even to me. "I'm still me."

"Do you like her?" I asked. The moon drifted from behind a cloud, illuminating the room in silver. For a moment, I did not know if I saw a glimpse of changes the way his lidless eyes stare at Y/N. I have never seen him before seeing a human as different as a victim or someone to be killed.

"Like?" He seemed to taste the word, finding it bitter. "I don't know. I just... I don't want her to die yet. That’s all." Although he answered it vaguely and shortly, I think he wants to say more than that but just forcing himself to stop to let out some emotions he does not understand yet.

"But she wants to die, Jeff. Although sometimes she is hesitating.. still that's how her story will end."

He didn't respond. He just kept his hand on her head, guarding her sleep. Honestly, I do not know what's going on in his crazy mind right now.. but I am sure, he is confused everytime he is with her.

"Then change her mind," I said, turning toward the door. "Change hers the way she’s changing yours."

I walked back to my room and stood on the balcony, the cold wind biting at my skin. I went to my desk and opened the bottom drawer. Tucked away were the pill bottles LJ had recovered from her house weeks ago. I read the labels again.
She could be cured, if she wanted to be. But she had given up long before she met us. If Jeff succeeds in making her want to live, they might actually have a future. It will be hard, but I am sure if they are determined.. they will make it. But if he doesn't—if he remains the killer and she remains the victim—then time will do what his blade couldn't.

Jeff is running out of time to realize what he feels. And Y/N is running out of time to breathe.

I just hope she tells him about the illness she's been fighting for years now..