Killer Can't Kill Me (Jeff the Killer fanfiction) *COMPLETED*

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Juliet POV

Mom was home late, I had ordered pizza and was back from shopping. She took a single slice, politely thanked me, and half ran to her room. I sighed, and finished my slice and put the remainder of the box into the fridge. I noticed some of the kitchen was unpacked, like forks and knives. At least she did something to the house. I looked in the living room, which was filled with boxes. I went into my room, deciding to paint something. I pulled a large trunk from under my bed, opening it, I looked at dozens of jars of paint, paint brushes, rags, and a can for water.

I set out my paint supplies, mindlessly mixing colors and wiping my brushes. I remembered I still wore my work clothes and walked over to my closet for a moment, pausing. The doors were shut, but I could have sworn I had left it open this morning. After entering my bathroom, I took off my uniform and pulled on light, my paint clothes. I sat down on a stool before my easel, a fresh canvas awaiting my. Tucking my black hair behind my ear, I began to absently paint. I barely looked at the canvas, an overwhelming feeling of being watched washed over me. For almost two hours I painted, staring at the canvas, yet seeing nothing. Finally, I stood up, wondering who could possibly watching. My bedroom door was halfway open, so I kicked it lightly with my bare foot to shut. The feeling persisted. Annoyed, I yanked open my closet doors for something to do. A blur of rust, black, and white attacked me.

I was shoved to the ground, my head hitting the wood floor hard. My eyes rolled around in my skull, unfocused. I was positive a man was sitting on me. My attacker was wearing a dingy hoodie, the hood pulled over his head, and worn out black dress pants. He was heavy, his entire bodyweight seemed to be focused on my chest. I gasped for air before a pale hand clamped over my mouth. I wasn't afraid, exactly, I was confused. My attacker held my mouth shut with on hand girly as he adjusted his body and sat on top of my, he feet pining my arms down. His shadowy face loomed before me. Tears streamed down my cheeks as the man pulled a knife from his pocket, now I felt terrified. Fear encased me, I couldn't breath, I couldn't move. The attacker held the knife about a foot over my heart. He swayed slightly, then through the knife into the wall. The blade sunk into the drywall with a thud. The man clutched his head, releasing me. Instantly, I tried to jump up, but I was too shaky with fear. Silent tears overtook me. Was this how Dad felt before the end?

"I......" The man choked out as he clutched his head. The hood fell back, revealing his face. Our eyes locked. He had hard, pale skin, large, lidless eyes that seemed unreal, a small pale nose, and greasy black hair. His lips were the same from the dream, two long, pink scars stretched inhumanly far in a frown of agony. His lips were slightly parted, as if to say something, but no words came out.

"I-I know you" I mumbled.

"What?" His voice growled. It was deep and hoarse, just like the dream.

"I...er...........dreamed about..........you" I finished the sentence awkwardly. This entire situation was nothing short of unreal. The man stopped clutching his head, and sighed.

"I won't kill you" he blurted out with regret. Confusion mixed with my fear. He regretted not killing me?

"Who are you?" I asked, slowly moving toward the closed door. He looked at the painting on my easel, and smiled darkly. I saw it clearly for the first time, and my eyes widened. I had painted the man in my dream. His face, twisted in a smirk, dominated the canvas. A swirl of crimson paint surrounded him, and I saw myself in the painting, wearing a long, black evening gown, my hair in a long ponytail, my pale skin glowing, and I stared at the man with love in my eyes. The painting I had created shocked me to the point of forgetting to escape.

"Nice" the man said, and yanked open the window above my bed. He crawled out of the room, crouched on the window sill. "Jeff" he said softly, watching me with interest.