Jeff the Killer has been a symbol of death for years. A bogeyman, an urban legend, a madman who strikes fear into whoever so much as hears his name. But before becoming the bloodthirsty psychopath he is today, who was Jeff the Killer? He was just a...
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The infamous hitman Jeff the Killer sat in a brown leather chair, petting a huge lioness, who he named Zira. Zira had golden fur and yellow eyes, flicking her tail and purring as her master pet her. The other lioness, Lief, had fur that was a bit brighter yellow, and two male lions were with him as well. They, like their sisters, had golden fur and yellow eyes, and they were nigh-identical. The difference between the brothers was that Jag had a darker mane, while Inkosana's was a dull red.
Jefferson Gray, Jeff the Killer, was a tall man, around 6'6, and muscular, 450 lbs. He wore a white suit of armor with black markings on it. On the chest plate of his armor was a painting of a black lion, his snarling maw wide open and full of fangs. Under the armor, Jeff wore a black shirt, black jeans, black boots and black gloves. He wore a white helmet, his long black hair still hanging through the creases. As for his face, it was so pale it was almost white, adorning several scars. One of them was a straight slice over one of his eyes. Another was a jagged, stitched slice going from his cheek to his forehead.
His eyes were bright green and bloodshot, his eyelids black as midnight. His eyes burned with complete and utter hate. At one point, a loud-mouthed man asked Jeff if his eyes were like that from booze or weed. Some say Jeff tore out his tongue and made him eat it. Others say Jeff went for the eyes.
His hair was similarly black, and so long that it reached past his shoulders, a scruffy black goatee on his burnt chin.. Finally, he had a smile carved into his face, a sickly beige from the burns he suffered. The Glasgow smile, juxtaposed with his otherwise expressionless face, made him all the more unnerving.
Jeff held a bottle of Captain Morgan's rum in his other hand, taking a nice long drink. Gazing upon his lioness with affection , he threw the empty bottle to the ground, as it crashed, and he grinned, showing off his fanged teeth, stained sallow from years of being addicted to meth.
"What makes a murderer?", muttered Jeff as he gently stroked Zira and Jag and smiled at their purring. "That question has been on your mind, don't deny it. The answer is very simple: pain. Pain is what makes us wonder...what it feels like to kill. But what was the source of said pain? Abusive parents? Unbearable mental illness? Heh...repressed sexuality?"
Rising from his chair and walking toward his table, Jeff picked up a bong with a Deadpool icon on it. Jeff started up the bong and blew out a smoke ring, coughing and snickering as the weed kicked in.
He got to his knees and petted the lioness's cheeks, his green eyes gazing into her gold ones.
"I remember my first kill perfectly," said Jeff matter-of-factly. "Dumb cunt, weak as hell. I killed him in ten seconds flat. "
Nostalgic now, Jeff chuckled "You should have seen the blood, Zira! It was like a volcano. "
Enraptured with what her 'father', was saying, Zira rubbed her head against his massive clawed fist affectionately. Jag licked Jeff's leg, and Jeff scratched him behind the ears. Lief and Inkosana curled up by their master's feet.
