The Legend Of Moon

3. Homicidal Jeff

Jeffery's POV

I am Jeffery Lockwood, although most people know me as Homicidal Jeff, the psychopath murderer of Canterbury, England. I grew up as the eldest of 5 inside one of the two-storey detached houses in the street. My mother worked together with my father downstairs where they opened up a little shop named 'L&C's Shop' where they sell all kinds of stuff, mostly the things most wanted in the town. It was very known by the locals, they would always jump by to pick up, collect or ask some stuff they needed in their dialy lifes such as cooking materials or tape to continue their work in the garden. My mother, she was called Casandra Camebridge, a beautiful woman with long and dark brown hair what suited her big eyes. My father, Joseph Lockwood, was more loyal and proud and often helped out by the people's homes for most of the time. It left me and my brothers alone upstairs where we lived, the place was quiet a mess because of us those times. We weren't bad, just naughty since we never fought, but couldn't sit still either. It never got us into trouble, once in a while we just got speeched by father what could go wrong. And indeed, what could possibly go wrong right? Well, a lot of things could actually.

One day I was upstairs with Petra, the wife of Benny who owned a bakery at the end of the street. She jumped by now and then to help out with my math since, although I wasn't the oldest, I was not one of the smartest kids around. She taught me all kinds of stuff, in the end, I was a fast learner. Meanwhile, Benny was downstairs with both my parents, talking and catching up with each other about the new rules the society formed for people with a store within Canterbury. Now... What could go wrong right? I'll tell you... Everything could go wrong.

That day, a fire got lose downstairs, which after research was found out to be put on by someone, although the culprit was never found. Both my parents were killed with Benny. Petra and I were trapped upstairs until the firemen came to rescue us in time. My brothers were away, playing with friends out of town, who were later adopted by other families far away from Canterbury. I never saw them again. I got adopted by Petra, who was alone after the fire and who as well felt guilty for me. We lived at her place and in return, I took over the shop in the weekend. But no more costumers came by, they rather went far away than passing by us. You see, the culprit was me for the people. Gosspis told that I was the one who started the fire, killed three people by doing so in attemp to take my own life. It got the police to grow suspicious about me until they decided to pay me a visit. I was send to a doctor and psychologue who both declaired me 'insane'. I was send to a mental hospital, not allowed to have any contact with the outside world. And that for several years.

By the time I got out, 5 years passed and I aged to reach 1m75 and the age of 16. Petra had passed 2 years ago. She died because of a heart attack in the middle of the night within her sleep. Nobody wanted to take me in as rumors spread fast, telling I was a murderer. As consequence, I dissapeared from the people's eye and lived on my own within the shadows of the city, not wanting to be found ever again. But even so, the legend of 'Homicidal Jeff' remained and soon I became an online hit, an inspiration for horror stories, fanfictions, etc. I hated it for real, so much actually, that I thought : If one want me to be a killer, a killer I shall become.

When I reached the age of 17, I lost my mind for at least a week. What exactly happend during those days, I shall never recall nor know. I woke up with several words cut in my arms and legs, in my chest and wrists. 'Killer', 'murderer', 'homicidal Jeff' and 'Jeffrey Lockwood' (which was crossed). I was shocked and looked in a mirror, only to be awoken by a true horror sight. I looked at the reflection of a real killer, a killer of my own. The sentence 'If one want me to be a killer, a killer I shall be' was cut into my neck. Both my hands were under blood, leaving me to cry for eternity on my own, in one of the corners of the building where I stayed in secret.

Nowadays I still live with an age of 17,5 years old. Still in the shadows, on my own without any friends or family. No school since I never got a chance to continue nor to repeat nor to start over. I was on my own, sitting all day and all night within the dark alley where nobody passed. Dressed in black with the sentence on my neck vissible, the name 'Homicidal Jeff' written on my left hand as the name 'Jefferey Lockwood' (crossed) was written on my right. This was who I was, who I remained until I would end here somewhere, the end of my days. The question 'what could possibly go wrong' circling in my head as my life flashed before my eyes. 'Cause indeed, right? What would possibly go wrong? To tell you the truth, anything and possibly everything could do so. Whenever you think it is alright, things crash down to the earth, down on you. So, before you ask yourself that question, think again. Do not ever ask it, never think of it if you don't wanna know the answers. 'Cause I know as the best, you don't wanna know. You don't wanna see it all pass by like it never was there. For all, I am Homicidal Jeff and if one want me to be a killer, a killer I shall be.