Jeff The Killer Story - Happy Late Birthday Jeff!!!

Jeff The Killers True Story

I found the true version of Jeff which I read through it and yeah I ain't spoiling it for ya to here you go! ))

Growing up, I had a happy, semi-normal life. It was only semi-normal because I had been born without any eyelids. Throughout the years, I would have to put in special drops in my eyes to keep them moist. By the time I was eight, I didn't need the drops. My eyes got adjusted to no blinking. But when Lui and I were nine, our parents got divorced. My mother, Margret, re-married a man named Peter when Lui and I were twelve. I hated that bastard. He would sexually abuse Lui. The only reason why he only did Lui is because, Lui begged him not to touch me. Idiot.

Months of this abuse occurred until one of the neighbors discovered the dirty secret. He threatened to call the cops on Peter for molesting a minor, but Peter had a secret weapon to use against the neighbor: murder. Peter made me pick the neighbor's lock and sneak into the house. I walked up the stairs and I could hear him snoring like thunder. I opened his door quietly and saw the man sprawled out in the bed. I had to do it. I had to or else Peter was going to hurt Lui. My dear, darling brother. Now, it's my turn to protect him.

I looked at the man. I took in his features: grey/white hair that was in a comb over and was thinning quite a bit; frown lines and old smoker wrinkles around his chapped, thin lips, crow's feet around his eyes, a double chin, and was a little over weight. He had no muscle to him whatsoever. He just had little rolls and flabby, old, white, loose skin.

I had known that his wife had died a few years ago, so he was completely alone.

He snorted in his sleep as I start to walk around to the side of the bed. I stepped on a floorboard and a loud squeaky noise echoed throughout the room. 'Shit!' I growl mentally. The old man's eyes opened immediately. His pale green eyes lock with my bright blue ones. The old man throws his blankets off and goes to go get me. I panic.

Before the old man could say anything, I lunged the knife out, and I look away, and it pierces something. Warm liquid bubbles down my arm and drips onto the wooden floor.

I forced myself to look at my neighbor. The knife had gone through his neck, penetrating his jugular. His face was one of pure terror and pain, twisted with a slight look of anger as well.

My neighbor fell to his knees and bled out to death.

I wanted to cry and fall to my knees, but there was another feeling. Triumph. Happiness. Power.

I love the feeling of the power I possessed.

I loved the feeling of being in control.

I loved the feeling...of killing.

I started to laugh insanely. My sides started to hurt severely as my laughter boomed louder, and louder, and louder. My eyes teared up from my giggle fit.

My happiness soon faded when the door creaked open and there stood a boy around ten and a little girl around eight or nine.

"Grandpa?" The little girl croaked. Oh no. They'll tell. I'll have to get them too.

I lunged at the kids and they screamed. The boy was too slow, and I stabbed his heart, and slit his throat. He choked on his own blood and fell to his knees, similar to the way that his grandpa did.

"Now, time to get the little bitch." I whispered.

I walked around the house to try to go find the little girl.

I open a door and am welcomed with a bright pink room. Unicorns, barbies, stuffed animals, and horrible drawings lined the floor and the walls. I heard whimpering coming from the closet. I smiled. "Come out, come out, wherever you are." I whispered eerily.

Slowly I approached the closet and slammed the door open. She gasps and screams. I hold the knife to her neck. Three simple words fell from my lips, "Go. To. Sleep."

I slash the knife across her neck and a beautiful crimson color splashed against the pink walls and drips onto the white carpet.

My work here was done.

I ran out of the house as soon as I could. I climbed up the tree right next to my window and crawled into my room. I held the knife to me and looked at the blood on it. What did it taste like?

I licked the knife. Bitter, but tasty. It tasted like I licked a penny.

I hid the knife under my pillow.

The next morning, Peter told my mother that he got a new job in a state all the way across the country. We packed immediately and moved out, taking my beautiful knife with me.

The new neighborhood was beautiful. It had a large forest that went on for miles in our backyard. . Mom was a complete wreck. She would stare at things for long periods of time then start screaming and crying. Once she was cleaning the toilet and I went in the room. She started staring at me for a long time. She started screaming and threw the bleach at me and it landed all over me and in my eyes. I started screaming and then she started crying, "Jeff, I didn't mean to! Forgive me, please baby!" I stumbled around and accidentally hit a cabinet that had Peter's vodka he left there for later on it and it landed on me, burning my skin and eyes more. I screamed louder. I touched a candle and immediately caught fire. I was in the hospital for two months.The burns cased my lidless eyes to become black around the edges and my hair was burnt off and then it came in black.

After one year, we took her to a mental hospital.That night, Peter tried to do the same thing he did to Lui to me. Unfortunately, he didn't know I had my knife under my pillow and I was still awake. He went to lay on top of me and I stabbed his arm. He shrieked and jumped off of me. My skin was so white, it glowed in the moonlight. Peter growled and sent himself at me. I dodged him and he hit the wall. He grunted and charged at me, holding me down. He got my knife and pressed it against the right corner of my mouth. I growled and turned my head, accidentally cutting my mouth into a Glasgow smile. I let out an ear-piercing shriek as the blood trickled down my face, throat, and hair. Funny thing was, the pain felt good. I was screaming in pleasure. He smirked and cut the other cheek trying to be symmetrical.

Suddenly, it was like my sanity snapped and I had a strange power surge. I flipped our position and ripped my knife from his hand and hit him in the head with the butt of the knife and he passed out.

I tied his arms and legs to the bed and tortured him slowly. I had duct taped his mouth and watched the forty year old man cry.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," I walked in circles around the bed tapping the knife in my hand, "Peter, Peter, Peter...You should really," I paused and stood in front of the bed, "Go...To...Sleep..." I grasped the handle hard and dug it into his face. I gouged out his eyes and watched him beg for mercy. I slashed his stomach open and disemboweled him. he was barely alive now. I cut his chest open and saw his heart beating slowly...oh, so slowly...

I reached in and ripped it out, all the while wearing surgical gloves to avoid leaving my fingerprints anywhere. I threw his heart out the window and left the gloves. 

And that's my story. I bet you're scared to sleep now. Don't worry. I'll make you...GO...TO...SLEEP.

((Alright people thats enough Jeff for a day, anyway... Who's creepypasta story should I do next and apperently this is the true story idk but still hope you enjoyed and I will see you guys later! Mew!!!))