Killing Spree (Jeff the Killer x Reader)

Chapter One - It Was Just a Dream... I Hope

     I was walking through the forest at around 7:30 PM. The faint orange glow of the sun slowly but surely sunk behind the trees as the azure sky faded to a navy blue. Barely able to see my path, vaguely lit by nothing more than the moon, I cautiously continued, careful not to trip on any sticks or branches.

The breeze tickled the trees, making them sing their relaxing song. No matter how upset I am, the forest always seems to calm me down. It's my safe place, it's where I come to escape when life gets to be too much. But it's strange, because this time I didn't feel safe at all. As a matter of fact, I feel even worse than I did before. It feels like there's a hunter stalking it's pray, ready to strike any second... and I'm the pray.
I don't know why, but I started running. I didn't care where I was going as long as it was out of this damn forest. Something just doesn't feel right, ya know? As I was running, I ran into something cold and stiff. I looked up and saw an eight foot tall figure with no facial features whatsoever. He was well dressed in a black suit with a red tie. The tendrils sprawling from his back lingered like the branches of a tree before they engulfed me in darkness.

I woke up in a cold sweat, gasping for breath. 'It was just a dream,' I told myself. At least I hoped so.
I tiredly walked to kitchen and poured myself a glass of cheap wine. I took a swig of it and spat it out right away. It had gone bad, due to bacteria slipping past the cork. Gross.
I picked up my cigarette pack to smoke one, but it was empty. Great. I looked at the time on my phone and saw that it was only one in the morning, so I decided to go to the gas station to get more cigarettes. I threw my (h/c) hair up in a messy ponytail and slipped on some old shoes. I quickly walked out to my car and hopped inside. When I got home, I sat outside and lit my cigarette up, inhaling and exhaling the smoke as I calmed down. I watched the smoke as I pushed it out of my lungs, looking as if I were a depressed dragon of sorts. Optimistic, I know. I checked my Facebook for any notifications. None, as always. I'm a fucking loser. Always have been. I had no friends throughout high school or even as a kid, for that matter. I don't know what it is about me that scares people so much. I even scare my parents. Well.. scared. They died two years ago in a car accident. But to be completely honest with you, and as horrible as it sounds, I'm kinda glad they did. They never supported me, never showed any affection towards me. I never got to experience the feeling of a loving mother's embrace like every other child. Because my mother wasn't loving. She was an insecure puppet. She'd do whatever my father would tell her, even if it threatened my well-being. My father was worse. He would beat me regularly. He even had a schedule. But I'm not going to go into detail regarding that, because I try not to remember. Maybe it's good that my parents are dead; it gives me hope that karma really does exist.
I was lost in my thoughts until I heard something rustle in the bushes. "Hello?" I called out. No response. I looked to the bushes under my bedroom window and didn't see anything there. 'Maybe it's just my imagination,' I reassured myself. It was probably just a squirrel or rabbit. Nothing to be afraid of.
I felt my eyes get too heavy to keep open so I decided to finally go to sleep. I stood up from the steps of my back porch and went inside. I felt uneasy, like I was being watched, so I made sure I had my with me under my pillow.
I had fallen asleep knowing I was at least somewhat safe with a military-grade combat knife with me and all my doors and windows were locked. I woke to the sound of a loud 'thump' about an hour or so after I fell asleep. I sat up with a start and quickly unsheathed my KaBar. "Ooh, pretty knife," a raspy voice in my room said. "Too bad you won't be using it anytime soon." I looked up and saw a man in a blood stained white hoody and black jeans. His face was entirely white, which showcased his lidless eyes and permanent smile. He lunged at me and I easily stepped out of the way, no problem.
"Ooh, how scary. I'm fucking trembling. No, really, I'm gonna piss my fucking pants dude," I taunted the strange man while laughing. "So, here's the thing. I have a razor sharp combat knife. And all you have is a dull kitchen knife. Things really aren't looking good for you, sweetheart." The man obviously didn't appreciate my condescending behavior as he lunged at me and pinned me against my bedroom wall. "Well aren't you kinky? I'm not in the mood right now, given how a strange man just broke into my room trying to kill me, but maybe we can do this another time. I know I'm irresistible." He smirked and held his knife to my throat. Little did he know, he was in just the right place for me to kick him in the nuts as hard as I could. Which I did without any hesitation. I may hate my life at times, but that doesn't mean I want to die. And it definitely doesn't mean I appreciate strangers invading my home and trying to kill me.
The strange, blood driven man fell to the floor and balled up in pain. Bingo. I knelt down and roughly grabbed a handful of his hair, pulling his head back as hard as I could. "How about you make a smart decision and rethink your actions?" I asked as I held my knife to his throat, drawing just the tiniest drop of blood.
"Fine," he said, "I give up. Now let me go."
"No, no, no, not until you give me your knife, honey bunny." I chuckled at the Pulp Fiction reference I had just made. He reached back and handed me his knife with the blade in his hand to prove he was serious. To prove I was serious, I quickly ripped the knife out of his hand and cut it.
"What the fuck?!" He yelled.
"I'm just proving that I mean business." I smirked and let him go, still holding both knives in my hand. He stood up and towered over me. He was a good foot taller than me at most, but still. "So, uh, what's your name?"
"Jeff," he reluctantly grunted.
"Okay, Jeff, quick question. What the fuck are you doing in my house?
"Well," he paused. "If I haven't made it obvious enough yet, I was planning on killing you. But, you've peaked my interest."
"How so?" I asked in an annoyed tone.
"The fact that you had a fucking knife to my throat. The condescending and sarcastic attitude. No one has ever been able to pull that off with me before." His arrogance showed through his back-handed compliment, but I shook it off.
"Hmph."
"That being said, wanna team up?" he asked. I honestly began considering it.
"I'll have to think about it," I said. "Come back tomorrow night at ten and I'll give you my answer."
"Okay. Your name is (y/n), right?" I nodded my head, not questioning how he knew my name. Some things are better left unsaid. "Got it," he smiled. He quickly and quietly hopped out of my bedroom window and disappeared into the night.
'Maybe killing will be fun,' I thought.