Misanthropy (Jeff the Killer X Ticci Toby)

Chapter 8

Hello! Another Chapter! I hope this one was enjoyable, because I honestly enjoyed typing it. I'm not gonna lie, may or may not have laughed at my own work, ok yes I did. But oh well. I couldn't help it. Hope you enjoy!

~ Chapter 8 ~

Weeks pass and blurr into months, and Toby finally settled into his new position as Proxy to the Operator. He honestly couldn't complain, he got food, a bed, his own room even a few individuals to talk to that wasn't a little girl who didn't understand the punch lines to sexual jokes. Not that he would tell Sally any sexual jokes of course.

He still found ways to annoy the hell out of everyone, finding it most pleasing to follow Masky around everywhere repeating his name in different pitches accompanied by the occasional onslaughts of pokes that drove the white mask wearer insane. Only twice has the twithing teen been close to losing his life to an enraged Masky, with a flustered Hoodie having to hold him back because anyone else present would just sit back and enjoy the show.

Toby had been on more missions since the incident with his last charge. These were nothing major, stalking mostly, a few involved him playing mind tricks on his charges, things like being seen at one moment, gone the next. Or, his personal favorites, leaving behind signs that he is watching them. He loved the scarred looks that overtook there faces when they realized he had been so close to them at one point or another.

But his interaction with his victims were limited, the Operator wasn't taking any chances it seemed, and Toby was getting restless, his blood lust was growing, making him more on edge. Making him twitch and stutter more often than before. The other occupants of the mansion were starting to complain about him more because of this, most just cursing at him everytime he knocked over a drink during a random spasm of his limbs, while a few threatened to cut him apart. He was willing to let them have a go if it meant he had a chance to swing his hatchets a few good times, maybe splatter some blood here and there.

Toby seriously needed some action, and soon.

Currently, the Proxy was situated on a couch in one of the many living rooms dotted around the mansion. The television blaring a movie he already forgot the title of, though that didn't much matter considering he was asleep.

His chin was propped up by his hand, elbow on his knee as he sat cross legged on the couch. His mouth had slipped open at one point and drool dribbled down his lower lip and onto his jeans. Occasionally, his neck would twitch softly, disturbing the low snores escaping his throat, his arm would move at random intervals, moving across his lap from time to time.

In his deep state of unconsciousness, the teen was blissfully unaware of a small, green eyed, brunette pulling his hair into sloppy pigtails and braids, while another gently drew across the skin of his cheeks and upper lip with a marker, leaving behind black ink in its wake. The older burnett sat back and admired her penmanship, the soft tick, tick, tick of the clock piece in her eye socket a calming rhythm that, unbenounced to her, kept the twitching teen in his comatose like state.

"He looks so cute!" Sally exclaimed in a high pitched whisper, Clockwork was quick to shush her but nodded nonetheless to appease the happy child. The two females took their time watching the teen sleep, it was quite amusing they both had to admit. With his hair pulled up in all sorts of directions, marker all over his face, the way he would twitch and mumble in his sleep had them both trying to hold back bursts of laughter.

As they bite their lips while listening to Toby mumble something about waffles, a certain white hoodie killer stomped his way down the stairs.

"Stupid fucker, telling me what I can and can't do. Little bitch, it was my fucking room first..." he cursed under his breath as he walked down the hall, hands stuffed in the pocket of his blood stained hoodie. This wouldn't be the first time the smiling murder stormed his way around the mansion, muttering almost incoherent ramblings about who knew what. Most of the time it was about Eyeless.