Creepypasta: The Story

It is all in my head... Right?

           Jeff felt the knife in his latest victim's chest. It felt right. No... He twisted the blade, which erupted screams from behind the hand that was covering the man's mouth. That cold... White... Hand. Those screams sounded like music to his ears... But he couldn't risk too many people hearing. He may have lost his marbles, but not his intelligence. Once the blood had finished spurting from the body, Jeff got up, and stretched. That one had put up a fight. He had a child upstairs... Jeff could hear it crying. But he didn't kill babies. They hadn't survived long enough to be corrupted. Jeff made his way to the kitchen, and got some food out. He made a sandwich, not caring that all the ingredients were stained with blood from his hands. Jeff didn't like the taste of blood, but he didn't dislike it either... Though he'd tell people he likes it's taste. If he had anyone to tell. He had been getting food from his victims for a few months now, ever since he'd left his home. His home... His family... Jeff sometimes had moments where he missed them. When the piercing insanity left a bit. But he always smiled after. Liars. They'd deserved it, he'd tell himself. Perhaps he thought they really did, at times. After he'd had a few chips from the cabinet,  and a cup of milk, he left without putting the dishes in the sink. Though, he sure didn't clean the pool of blood in the living room either. It was raining outside. Jeff hated the rain itself, though he liked the sound it made. It was calming. He always saw figures in the rain. He hated that. As he was walking down in the middle of the street in the rain, his insanity was calmed. He saw them again. The figures. Just looking at him with blank stares. Never looking away. But when he got within ten feet, they were gone. Its as if the souls of all he had slaughtered were haunting him. Sometimes he thought he even saw Liu... He shook his head. He tried to close his eyes. He couldn't. His eyelids... Weren't there. He had gotten used to the figures though. As he got to the end of the street, he was another figure. The last one. There was always a last one, that stuck around longer, as if to tell Jeff they'd never leave. Jeff stopped. He stared it straight into the face, which he couldn't see, as it was in the dark. He thought he'd challenge it this time. It'd taken a step up from previous appearances, being on the border of the woods instead of on a lawn or in the street. Then he realized... It wasn't normal... It looked... A bit too tall to be one of the figures. And the lamp illuminated it's shoulder. The figures in the dark... Didn't wear Armani suits either. It was just a person, a strange one. No matter, another victim, soon. Jeff walked forward, his knife in his pocket, to be less threatening, so the person wouldn't run... Though, the blood on his hoodie likely gave away the part about something about him being wrong. So did the carved smile on his face. But the person didn't run. And as Jeff walked forward, the man didn't even move... It just stood there... And as he got closer... It was as if it had gotten taller. The guy must've been at least ten feet tall. Somewhere, deep down, Jeff feared this man. Very much. But his insanity kept it down. It also kept down the ringing, the loud ringing, the ringing that got louder as he got closer to the man, in his ears far enough to surge forward. Eventually, as he got right in front of the figure, His eyesight began getting distorted. He stabbed his knife at the man. Jeff missed. Then, he saw its face... Or rather, its lack of a face... Jeff backed up, when all of a sudden, something hard, something metal, hit the disoriented Jeff on the head from behind. He was out cold.