How To: Kill☆Jeff the killer x Fem!reader☆

4. Reading about me?

With a yawn, I slowly arise from the recliner. Joey had already gotten up, evident by the blankets and pillows scattered around the couch. I sigh, heading towards the stairs with my messy hair. The basement door was closed, which I gently opened, careful not to awake Joey's parents. Turning to the right, I see Joey, standing at the counter with his phone in hand. He looked a little worried, as if something had happened. I walk up to him next to him, leaning down to rest my elbows onto the counter.

"Is something wrong?" I start, not wanting him to get startled from his trance.

"No, I mean yes.." He turns his phone to me, the light a little too bright in contrast to the dark room. He had been on the news channel, there was a new killing last night. It had been someone that lives down the road of Ian's house. That was the scariest part, to know the killer was so close to people I care about.

"Do you think the same guy did it?" I murmur out, my voice quivering a bit.

"Honestly, yes, I have no doubt about it. But hey, lets not worry too much about that." He grins a little, pushing off of the counter. I also straighten out.

"Don't worry? Joey, this guy killed my mom!" I say in a loud hush. Joey just sighs, clearly not wanting to talk about this.

"I know, but can we just not worry for a bit? It makes me anxious.." He looks up to me a bit, his dark brown eyes glimmering as the morning sun rises outside. I can feel my bottom lip quiver a bit, my energy to protest leaving as fast as it came.

"Fine.."

In response, Joey goes over to the refrigerator and grabs some eggs.

"What are you doing?" I cross my arms, raising an eyebrow, "We both know you can't cook."

"Sure, but I can try," he states, "It can't be that hard right?"

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Turns out it was that hard. Joey literally set the kitchen on fire. Smoke had filled the room and when Joey's dad caught a smell of it, he came rushing into the room with a fire extinguisher. He sprayed it everywhere, not really caring where it went as long as it stopped the fire. With a groan he straightens his bent posture and sets the extinguisher onto the floor in front of the kitchen cabinets.

"You two really have to stop trying to cook," He starts, "Yall really suck at it.." He finishes, pinching the bridge of his nose right above his silver, wire frame glasses. He looks over to me, his pale blue eyes making me go rigid.

"You're the smarter one, right?" I nod in response, "Well then you get to be the lucky one to clean it up!" He exclaims, sliding the extinguisher to the side in order to have access to one of the cabinets. He pulls out a gray towel and tosses it to me, it ends up slipping from my fingers and falls into a pile of extinguisher foam. I slowly pick the towel up, the texture of the wet towel making bile rise in my throat. Joey just stares at me with a sympathetic look, but I could clearly tell that he was satisfied with not having to do the chore. He begins to walk past me, putting his hand on my shoulder.

"Man, that must really suck," He says in an overly-sweet tone, a fake frown weighing his lips. He snickers before walking away, knowing that I was less than 2 seconds away from hitting him. I look over to the mess on the counter and floor, fully aware that just one towel wouldn't clean up the mess. I trudge over to one of the closets, grabbing a plastic bucket. I scoop the foam into the bucket and then put it into the sink. I repeat this for a few times before going back to the closet.

If I'm going to do this then I might as well do this wisely..

I grab a blue dust pan that was hanging on the wall before going back over to the kitchen. I scoop up the foam, placing it in the sink as before.