School Creepypasta

4: Jeff's fun

—Charley POV—

Jeff wasn't a bad guy.
I mean, not like that, he was still a murderer. It was just, he wasn't... a bad guy. He was on my side, even if he was a dickhead.

The other kids from the dormitory sat together at dinner, giving me cautious glances. I was strange because I talked to Jeff. Was I going to get bullied for being nice? To think of it, maybe that has always been the cause for me being bullied... I wouldn't know, honestly. Maybe my haircut was too cool to look at?

As Jeff told me all about his plans for our team's training, I listened intently. The cafeteria was a big hall full of small tables. It looked like the main hall, except less focused on one spot. Now there was focus on the tables and enough space for everyone to sit twice over.

To be fair, I would have walked up to the others from my group, but Jeff was spewing information and I didn't want to miss out on it.

Information would be key, as well as skills and hard work, I knew.

After dinner Jeff forced everyone outside.
I looked around to find nobody except for our group.

"Why are we here?" Denise asked. "I'm tired."

Jeff glared at her. "Shut up."

Denise frowned at the rude command, but followed it, knowing better but to test the guy.

"Because we're not lazy," Jeff said with new authority in his voice, "We're going to start training today. Tomorrow you will get some classes and whatever the fuck Slendy has planed, but I don't care. You're going to win and that will be because of me." Jeff jabbed a thumb at himself.

I nodded, but my enthusiasm wasn't shared.

Denise again spoke up.
"I'm too tired to do much. I just had the fright off—"

"Well then," Jeff reached in his pocket and my eyes went wide to find a knife. How long has he had that? How am I not dead? God I've been talking to a murderer—!

Seeing everyone frozen up, Jeff rolled his eyes.
"Who volunteers?"

I pressed my lips together. Maybe not? I was already not on the other students' side. I shouldn't make a sound.
Dying wasn't on the schedule today, sorry.

"Nobody?" Jeff asked with a wicked look in his eyes, "Well then, how about I kill you all?"

"I'll go," I said quickly, "I didn't want to steal the opportunity..."

"Oh fuck that," Jeff pushed the knife in my hands and I gripped it clumsily.

"What do I do?" The knife felt strange in my hands. The classic words rang through my brain; You can use a knife to cut up apples, but to hurt a person as well. I preferred cutting apples.

Jeff grinned widely.
"What do you think? Kill her!"

Denise blinked as they all looked at her.
"What?"

"You want to give up?" Jeff asked rhetorically, "You heard the basic rules, are you deaf!?"

As Denise shook her head stiffly, I saw her lower lip trembling. Hell, she was almost crying.
The knife in my hand felt like more than a curse.

"Well!?" Jeff turned to me now, "You givin' up as well!?"

"No," I said calmly, "I don't know how to kill."

"Just do it! Stab the knife into—"

Denise broke into a run.

"Oh bother," Jeff rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

We all stood frozen.

"Well!? Run after her!!"

I almost dropped the knife. Everyone started running and I made sure to follow. It was madness.
If I didn't kill, I'd die. I would die anyway, wouldn't I? What's the point of this?

Some guy called Anthony caught Denise and I gasped for air, out of breath from the run.

As Anthony held Denise back from running away, she tried to hurt him.
"Kill her!" Anthony gave me a hard look.

My cheeks were clenched, my brows furrowed into a terrified frown. I couldn't do this!
How could I just... kill?

Jeff strolled up to us.

It was her or all of us, wasn't it?

Slowly I stepped up to Anthony, looking into his calm green eyes, the knife steady in my hands before I stopped and carefully looked at Denise.

"Sorry," I whispered before I told myself to be quick. Without a thought I pushed the knife in her stomach.

A cry went through the air.

My hand recoiled, my eyes wide as I stepped back, right into Jeff who pulled an arm around me as if we were friends.

Jeff howled with laughter, coughing from it as Denise cried out in pain. I stared as the knife was stuck in Denise's stomach, Anthony holding her up carefully instead of holding her back. He didn't know what to do.

Nobody did.

—

When Jeff stopped laughing he pulled me closer to Denise again. She wasn't dead. She stared up at us, her eyes filled with tears as she sobbed.
"Please..."

I wanted to run. I couldn't.

Without ceremony Jeff pulled the knife out and Denise gasped sharply, letting out a loud sob.
Jeff handed me back the knife.

"You can leave her in pain if you're enjoying it, but it's noisy so you gotta finish it."

Finish it?

I couldn't.
Still I grabbed the knife, the red liquid now dripping off my hands.

Anthony lowered Denise so she could lay down. I hoped she could see the stars.
As I gripped the knife I recalled the way the principal had been killed. Knife cutting a throat.

Pressing th knife to Denise's throat, I closed my eyes and with one sharp movement, I slid something open. Just a plastic...y parcel? Yes, I told myself, that's all.

Someone pulled me away and I got up, prying my eyes open to see Denise on the ground, blood gathering around her.
Blood everywhere. Anthony was making sure I got back inside. Carefully he pulled me into half a hug, saying it wasn't my fault.

I cried.