Jeff the Killer looks into the bedroom window of his next victim, his mouth curving into an even broader smile than the one that was permanently carved into his cheeks. The victim is asleep, but he knows that won't last for much longer, as he pushes up the window and climbs almost silently into the room. He lets out a soft laugh, just enough to awaken the victim, enough to bring Fear's jaws around their mind. Sure enough, they twitch slightly, a sign that they are awake.
And so it begins, this game of fear.
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Your eyes dart open, and you know this is real.
What do you think is the last that you'll feel?
A pain in your chest, and a knife in your heart.
But after all, this is but the start.
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Your mind shouts loudly, "How could this happen to me?"
What do you think is the last that you'll see?
A very wide smile and a flash or a gleam.
A pair of wide, unblinking eyes, or so it would seem.
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As you tensed up, and as your heart raced,
What do you think is the last that you'll taste?
The fear in your throat, or, by the way,
A blade of a knife, most likely to say.
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And as you realize that this didn't go over so well,
What do you think is the last that you'll smell?
The coppery tang of your own blood, I guess.
The liquid river of Death's own bloody mess.
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And as you begin to succumb to the fear,
What do you think is the last that you'll hear?
Your breath starts to quicken and your heart starts to leap,
A sweet voice whispering but three words: "Go to sleep."
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Jeff kicks aside the victim's lifeless body, scowling as much as his mouth would allow. They didn't put up much of a fight, they didn't even scream. A waste of his time.
But after all, that was all he had wasn't it? Time.
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Credit: http://amber-icefire.deviantart.com/art/Sensing-Death-A-Jeff-the-Killer-Poem-Story-343829525
