Corrupted (Jeff the Killer Fanfiction) Book 1

Chapter Four

We've been staring at each other for what seemed like forever now. He stopped laughing a little while ago, which I was grateful for. Neither if us had anything to say or ask, so we just sat in silence and stared. Taking in every single little detail of each other's physical appearance. We already didn't like each other very much due to our not-so-pleasant conversation we had before I was brought in here.
Why did they bring me in here anyways? What are they expecting to happen? Did they get bored of the normal routine and wanted to entertain themselves by watching Jeff and I interact with each other?
Some sick game.
Whatever the reason may be, I hate it. Staring at this guy is getting more and more unsettling, especially when I realized that he had no eyelids. What happened to him? Did someone do all that to him? Or did he do that to himself? No, there's no way he did that to himself. Someone must have done it to him;and that's probably what drove him to insanity.
I wouldn't blame him, though. If I had my cheeks cut open and eyelids torn out, I wouldn't be quite right in the head, either. But it doesn't quite explain why he kills parents and children. Did his own family do it to him?
Now that would be fucked up.
I looked away from him. Might as well get familiar with these surroundings since I'm gonna be here for a while.
His cell looked practically the same as mine; no bed, no windows. Only a table with a couple of chairs on the far left side from where I was chained up, just like my cell; only, the table in my cell was in front of me by a few feet. The only difference about his cell that really was worth taking note of was that he had a gigantic mirror that almost took up the entire wall to my right; that must be where they watch us. Jeff was chained to the wall across from me, which was a good ten feet away from me.
"What's your name?" he asked, gaining back my attention.
"They didn't tell you?" I asked, slightly confused.
"They didn't tell me anything about you," he said, looking at me strait in the eyes. "They didn't even tell me that they planned to bring you in here." he added.
I hummed, looking away from him. So me being forcefully dragged in here must have been quite a surprise for him. "Well merry fucking Christmas, here I am." I joked.
He chuckled. "So what is it? You still haven't told me."
Damn, stalling didn't work.
I looked up at him again, contemplating whether I wanted to tell him or not. Well, it would be revealed eventually, anyways. There would be no point in keeping it a secret. "It's Emily."
"Emily," he repeated back to me. It sounded suspenseful when he said it. I wasn't sure whether I liked it or not. "What a pretty name."
I hummed in response. The way he said that didn't sound sincere. He was trying to get under my skin again.
"You know, it's a little strange to see such a sweet little girl needing to be kept in chains," he added.
"I'm not sweet, and I'm not a little girl." I sneered.
"That's not what I see." he replied.
"I don't give a damn what you see." I spat.
That seemed to irritate him a little. "You've got quite the mouth on you, don't you?" If he had eyelids, I'd imagine he would narrow his eyes at me.
"You're not any better, yourself." I glared at him.
He growled for a second, then stopped, as if he was realizing something. "You don't know who I am, do you?" he questioned.
"All I know is that you're a murderer, and that you've killed hundreds of families." I recalled what the nurse had told me about him right before he came here.
He gave a sinister grin. "That's just the tip of the iceberg of what I do, sweet cheeks." he stated in a low voice. "I'm an infamous killer known worldwide, known as Jeff the Killer." He said it as if it should have meant something to me.
My look of confusion must have gave away that I had no idea who he was. "Have you never heard of me?" He's acting like it was obvious as to who he was.
Well, for someone who hasn't been blocked from the outside world for years, it might be obvious.
I shook my head. "No."
He looked baffled at this news. Should I have heard of him before? I didn't know.
"I've been stuck in this asylum for years now," I explained. "Everything that happens outside of this asylum is completely foreign to me. I don't even know who's president of the United States right now."
He started at me with an unreadable expression. I couldn't tell if he was shocked or felt pity for me.
He shifted positions after a couple minutes of staring at me, causing the chains to make loud clanking sounds. Oh, how I hated those sounds. "How long have you been here exactly?" He finally asked.
"I lost track after four years."
Now his expression was definitely shock. Was it really that shocking? Maybe it's shocking to him that I've been here so long that it's become my normality.
"What the hell could you have possibly done to stay here for that long?" He finally asked.
"Many things," I answered quietly. "Too many to count, actually."
"Well there's no way in hell that I'm staying here for years. I'm getting the hell out of here as soon as possible." he stated.
Ah, there he goes again. "You've tried that already." I pointed out.
"It's called gaining their trust, sweet cheeks." He sneered.
These nicknames are getting on my nerves. "It's Emily." I corrected him.
"Whatever," he responded.
That was the last thing that was said for the rest of the day.

~

Vanderbilt's POV
"They don't really seem to hate each other, but they certainly don't seem to like each other, either." Dr. Jones stated. "How exactly do you see them 'helping' each other?"
"Give them time, Jones. This is only day one. Let them form some sort of a relationship. It'll happen." I replied, smoothly.
Of course it wouldn't happen, I knew. It wasn't exactly my full intention for them to 'cure' each other mentally. No, I had entirely different intentions.
"I sure hope you know what you're doing, Vanderbilt." Jones said before turning and leaving to have his next session with his full-time patient.
I stared intently at the brunette kneeling on the concrete floor across from the infamous killer, Jeff. Her icy blue eyes were glazed over, as if she was in deep thought. Her hair draped down past her shoulders, almost touching the floor. I remembered back when she first came here; her hair didn't even reach her shoulders. Oh, how she's grown. 10 years have really taken a toll on her; she's grown to be quite a lovely young lady. It's hard to believe that this girl before me is the same girl who killed my younger brother.
"Oh yes, I know exactly what I'm doing."