Our Love Will Never Die

Jeff the Killer

I woke up to the light shining through the curtains of my window. I quickly shut my eyes again and run to the window, almost tripping in the process, and shut my curtains so the light won't hurt my eyes. I heard my stomach growl and I had that awful morning taste in my mouth. I need something to drink.

While I was walking to the kitchen, I started thinking about my "visitor" again. It seems like every time I think about him I can't help but feel like being watched, or like someone is lurking around in my home. I know it's a bit cliché, but I'm serious.

When I got to the kitchen I opened the fridge and grabbed the milk carton and, since I'm too lazy to get a cup, I drink what I would've put in whole glass. I put the lid back on the carton and right when I was about to open the fridge once again, I heard something behind me.

I turned around as quick as I could and saw him. Yes, him. He stood a good five feet away from me, on the other side of the table that sat in the middle of my kitchen. I didn't know what to do but stand there, looking completely mortified. It was exactly how his story described him: pale white leathery face, lidless and colorless eyes, singed black hair, and... that carved smile.

He calmly slid one of the chairs out from under the table and sat down, looking at me the whole time. We just stayed put, starring at each other waiting for someone to say something. "Are you just going to stand there or are you going to speak?" He asked in a deep, monotone, raspy voice.

"Why are you here?" I asked, sounding scared. Mostly because I was about to shit myself. I mean Jeff the mother fucking Killer is in my house, what the fuck?!?

"Because I have been watching you for a while and I got sick of hiding from you. I'm trying to figure out why I can't bring myself to kill you. Unless you can give me the answer, I'm not leaving until I get it." he said.

"Get out of my house." I said bravely, feeling a bit better when he said he couldn't kill me. "Now."

"I said I couldn't kill you, but without hesitation I can and will hurt you. I am staying here until I figure it out. So make me a sandwich, i'm hungry." he said as he pulled out his blood-staind knife out of his dingy, bloody hoodie. Every inch his knife came out, the bigger and wider his smile got, cracking scabs on his slit cheeks making them bleed.

"O-okay." I stuttered. Fuck. I am so weak. While I was putting his sandwich together, I could feel his eyes on me the whole time. After I finished I slowly walked to the table where he was sitting and I set down the plate. As I was about to pull my hand back, I felt a leathery, boney hand on my wrist, keeping me in place. He stared into my white eyes and what he said next put me in shock.

"Your beautiful..."