A N G U I S H ➵ Jeff The Killer x Reader (Dark)

Memory 17

My body jolted with a start, my hands immediately rising to shield my eyes from the harsh sunlight brutally ravaging itself through the thick foliage above me. Foliage..? My brain wracked itself for any memory or recollection of anything that transpired but I came up blank, as if everything that had transpired was nothing more and nothing less than a horrid dream. All I remember is the harsh smell of the hospital, and the feeling of being watched constantly. As if that's all my life had come to nowadays, anyway.

My heartbeat thudded in my chest, a funeral drum blaring it's final cries for help. My mind was empty, blank. And the more I tried to think, the more static overwhelmed my senses like a harsh storm overlapping the peaceful serenity of a calm night out at sea. My head blared constantly, and I could do little from preventing the blood beginning to dribble out my nose and drop onto the forest floor in silence. What the fuck is going on?

My head continued to blare, but the only conspiring thought that was able to run through my mind was that I had to get the fuck out of here. I steadily rose to my feet, wiping off the many piles of leaves that had stuck onto my jeans and in my hair. The trees looked all looming and familiar, as if all of them were taunting me at my expense and watching what I'd do next. Hell, maybe they were. At this point, I certainly wouldn't know. Panic continue to stroke at my emotions, heightening and warning me to stay on guard. ALWAYS WATCHES. NO EYES.

I tried my hardest to keep a calm and collected head, knowing that as soon as I allowed myself to wolf into the feelings of panic, I would be screwed. My eyes darted around the trees, trying to make a decision of which direction to traverse in, but I thought better of plainly guessing and instead decided to climb one of the dangly trees in order to get a better vantage point. My grip hung painfully over the splintered branches, lifting my body weight up and up and up the rabbit hole of insanity painfully.

I reached as high as I was brave enough to climb, my eyes surveying the vast expanse of forestry but coming up short. I couldn't see anything. No buildings, no paths, hell, even no rivers close by.

To put it simply, I was totally and royally FUCKED. This did little to calm my panic, and instead I quickly felt hyperventilation beginning to kick in. Think Alice, think! Think back onto those stupid survival TV series your mother used to watch. But I couldn't. No matter how hard I tried to focus on a memory, my brain came out blank. The only stiff memory I was able to pinpoint was the Cheshire grin of madness, with ashen locks taunting me with no regard.

I took in deep breaths, attempting but failing to calm my heartbeat down, but prevail I did not. The only daunting thing that froze me in my tracks was the abrupt sound of footsteps right below the tree I was perched in. However, the steps were ragged. Uncareful. As if the perpetrator was the only predator lurking in these woods and he knew it, and he wanted me to know it too.

I held my breath, glancing over the branches and down to where the noise came from. I could do little to stop the little squeak of surprise leaving me when I saw ashen skin and a blood stained smile smirking up at me. Jeff. I remember Jeff.

I gulped, heart hammering as he knocked casually on the tree as if he was politely knocking on a door to a house.

"Open up little piggy!" He giggled maniacally, his knocking persisting, "Open up or I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow your house down!" Panic seized my movements, my hands frantically gripping the branches of the tree as if that would protect me from the bloodied males wrath. I debated with myself the ratio of survival, and from there I decided that I was mostly likely going to die. Like a lamb going off to slaughter too soon. It felt premature to die so soon, but now all I could feel was deep rooted fear engulfing the last inches of normalcy. "I wouldn't keep a hungry wolf waitin if I were you, dove."

I gulped, eyes still locked onto his own. His face promised a dance of death, and if I wasn't careful, I'd be the sole victim to it. I debated my next actions, from the branch I was nothing but a sitting duck waiting for Jeff to rip me to pieces, but if I could buy myself time, and a chance to run, I could maybe attempt to escape his grasps unscathed. You can do it, girl. Put your big girl pants on and climb down and put him in his place!

My own internal monologue did little to calm my nerves, and actually worsened my own internal battle with myself, "I-I'm coming down."

He clicked his tongue mockingly, "Good little dove~"