Chrysalis (Jeff The Killer) DISCONTINUED

Prologue

This story is not intended to be that of a romance or a cliche bad-guy-becomes-good-for-girl thing. This is meant to be one which will be both psychological, merciless and pure horror/thriller, if not accompanied by a sense of dark humor.

A/N I do not owe Creepypasta, nor the pictures I post on this story. I have merely edited them. However, I do own those I have drawn myself, which I will put a copyright-sign on.

Credit goes to the genuine authors and artists of other pictures I have not drawn myself. However, I do owe this story and its original characters and setting.

Rewritten: 21.04.17

.....

"We meet again, miss Black. It has been quite some time, hasn't it? Though I have to admit, you've gotten yourself into quite a mess since then." Investigator Oglaz enters the room, looking just as elegant and formal like he always does. Hell, wish I'd know how he could've afforded all that style. Probably because he's an investigator and a pretty good one at that. Samantha would've undoubtedly gotten jealous if she was here.

I lean back into the chair and place my feet on the table before me. "Yeah, but things tend to turn messy when you have a bloody sociopath in town. Anyway," I sigh knowing that my answer will do nothing much to comfort me. "Tell me how many years I'll serve in jail or whatever. Just get this over with."

"That depends, miss Black, whether you are truly responsible for what has occurred." He sits down and ignores my feet almost touching his porcelain-like skin. "Do you?" He asks again, and I take my feet off the table out of respect for his patience. He was one creepy guy, but he was efficient and not near as obnoxious and stupid as all the other cops in town.

"I have done things in the last couple of months which I am probably being held responsible for, but that doesn't change the fact that I haven't killed anyone. If you want to ask anyone, I suggest that you ask Mr. Fucker. He's the real culprit, not me. What I have done has merely been out of my will to survive this really shitty ordeal the town has been put through, including myself." I answer honestly, but he doesn't seem to lose his composure, and that assures me somewhat that he wasn't jumping to conclusions too fast.

He rests his head in his hands and sighs. "In my opinion, miss--"

"Helmine is fine, Oglaz." There are no reasons for any formal bullshit at the moment.

"Alright, then. As I was saying, Helmine, in my opinion, you are not a murderer. Jeffrey Woods is an unstable individual and a madman, but like you, he has also faced the inhumane acts of this world. That's how he became who he is now. You, however, are a survivor, Helmine, and what you have done has proven just that."

I raise an eyebrow in confusion. His words are not what I had expected. "Are you just saying this to comfort me, Oglaz? In that case, I'm not in the mood for any sugarcoated crap. I just want the full detail on what'll happen to me once we're finished here."

"Well, you see, before anything will happen, I want you to explain the entire story from your perspective."

"What?"

"From the very beginning. I want you to tell me, Helmine."

"Why would you want that? Of what benefits will you gain?"

He shrugs. "I want to know what you thought of what happened to you, and I want you to say it genuinely. There are no recordings in here, and there is no one here but you and me. Could you do me that favor?"

I blink uncertainly at him. Why does he want that? Did he want proof or something, or did he just want something to tell the public eye? He wasn't like that kind of person, though, after our previous meetings, but then again, as don't know what he's like as a person. He's peculiar, but one thing I do know is that he is definitely not like one of those asshats from town.

I look up at the ceiling and sigh. "Alright, brace yourself, investigator. Shit's about to get real here."

I almost didn't catch him smirking. "Indeed."