Jeff the Killer X Reader

Jeff the Killer x Reader Part II

A/n: This story is not intended to promote causing pain to others, its simply for creative and entertainment purposes! I didn't really want to stop writing this chapter here but it's pretty long so far. Hope you enjoy ~

You wake up in a well-lit, white room made of concrete. Everything is hazy as your eyes begin to focus, and the blackness fades away. You look around and see a small, plain bed with white sheets and a wooden night-stand next to it with a small clock. You look drearily down at your body, as the memories of your attacking flood back; you can almost hear his voice saying Go to sleep... as you look at your wounds. Although, you are surprised when you see that they are dressed. Your arm wound has blood soaked gauze on it and your leg is heavily wrapped in white bandages. You also notice that your stomach is wrapped in bandages and soaked in blood on your left side; that wasn't there before... You blush a little when you notice that your shirt is replaced with a big white t-shirt and is not the one you were wearing earlier, and you still only had on your striped, (f/c) underwear. You're sitting slumped up against the wall, with your legs straight out in front of you. It's only when you look up again that you notice the same boy who had stabbed you is sitting on the ground on the opposite wall from you, with one knee of his dark pants bent and his left arm resting on it. His hood was off now and most of the blood stains were all gone from his grey hoodie; you wonder if he really did this to you. "Oh look you're awake." He says plainly as he notices you look up at him. It was like his cold voice brought you back to reality, as you began to panic, knowing now that this was defiantly the boy who stabbed you and almost killed you last night; you try to get up and get away, but immediately you slump back down as you feel a deep pain in your left leg where you were stabbed. Your injury keeps you from standing, but you try as much as you can to slide even further away from him, there was about eight feet separating you guys, and you hold your left arm as use your other leg to push yourself and get away. "Whoa, whoa," he says flatly and sits up as you struggle, bringing himself to his feet, wearing dark combat boots. This doesn't phase you and you begin to breath harder, panicking, and inching yourself towards the other wall. He's standing over you before you know it and then reaches down to you. "Hey." he says cooly, but you ignore him and keep going. "You look pretty pathetic," he says and grabs your arm harshly.

"Only because of what YOU did to me!" You yell back at him in between breaths. He looks intimidatingly down at you, glaring. You stop trying and look up at him angrily, but the minute you do, you realize who you are talking to, and immediately you fall silent.

"I'm not going to hurt you anymore," he says almost throwing your arm back, "stupid." He says and turns away, walking back over to his wall and sits down like before. You have a strong urge not to trust him, but you can only take his word for now. You return to sitting up against the wall as well. He just looks at the ground for a while, and the silence is beginning to make you anxious.

"Wher-" he cuts you off:

"This is my place. Right now your basically in my jail cell." You look around the room once more, and realize that there's a dark colored door on the right hand side with a little glass window in it. "And don't get any ideas. My room is just outside, so if you ever feel the need to take a walk I'll surely know." He says deviantly. You look down at your feet, because you even know you were thinking about getting out the minute you saw the door. He looks at you.

"W-why did you save me...?" You feel tears starting to form in your eyes as you realize the situation your in; trapped. You were confused, why didn't he kill you?

"First of all, I didn't 'save you,' I was the one killing you, if you don't remember." He says sarcastically. "Secondly, you said something to me, something that disgusts me." You try to think, as everything from last night seems like a blur, and then you recall what you said before you passed out; I'm sorry. It was as if he knew you remembered now, because he continues, "I want to know why you said that to me." He asks coldly. You think about the question for a little; to be honest you weren't quite sure why you had said that... You just felt like it needed to be said, you felt compelled to tell him you were sorry, but were you sorry for yourself? Or for him? He stares at you intently, his long black hair spread out across his head. You did your best to answer,