Abigail (Jeff The Killer Fanfic)

Chapter 4

Lately, all Abby could think about was the masked thing. She wasn't sure if it was a man, a female, or even a human. She couldn't really tell. If the other monster had been wearing clothes like this one, it would look like a normal person, just abnormally tall. She went with the assumption it was another horrific creature. Despite how terrifying that thought was. 

He had been in her house. She'd already been stalked by it, but she only ever saw it lurking in her windows, outside, and in her dreams. But now, it was almost always in her house. Not literally, but she felt like it. She always felt the looming presence of it. 

She would see it concealing itself in the shadows of her room, hiding in her closet, and even sometimes just sitting on the couch. Sitting on the fucking couch. It was driving her even closer to the brink of insanity. She felt like it was purely mocking her. Showing her she had no power against it, and that no matter what precautions she took, it would always have a way of being there. Knowing exactly where she was, and what she was doing. She knew it was toying with her and knew it was enjoying every second of it. 

She didn't know how much more of this torture she could endure. She didn't know when she'd be pushed over the edge and be forced to just end it all. She didn't know when it would finally get bored with her and kill her. She didn't know if she'd ever escape this hell. 

Speaking of hell, Abby woke up with a loud scream, bolting up in bed with tears running down her face. She'd had another nightmare. Of course. She wished she could just stay up, and never sleep, but that was quite literally impossible. It would always end up with sleep, or death. For her, it was always haunting sleep. 

She heard banging on the wall, a sign her neighbor was home and telling her to shut up. She banged her fist against the wall as roughly as she could, hoping her neighbor could feel the absolute anger radiating off of her. 

As her eyes focussed on her surroundings, her heart dropped. Why couldn't, for one day, a single fucking day, wake up and not be faced with something worse than her nightmares. 

Across from her bed, on the wall, was a carving. Someone had taken a fucking knife to the wall and she knew exactly who. She also had no idea what it meant. The carving was an O with an X through it. She recognized it from her dreams. She felt sick to her stomach, and leaned over the bed, vomitting again. She couldn't handle this. She couldn't handle any of this.

Even simply staring at the symbol made her feel ill, so she got out of bed, and uneasily made her way to the kitchen. But as she opened her bedroom door, she was faced with a note taped to the wall. Not just one, but at least ten.

And more. And more. There were notes all over the walls of her apartment the farther she walked through them. They were the notes she always saw in her dreams, hung from the trees. Her heart dropped to her stomach, and she felt like her entire world was crashing. How had she not waken up? How long had she even been sleeping? She was sure it would take more than a few hours to do this.

She pulled one off the wall, staring at it blankly. How had her life come to this? She didn't know.

She felt like a shell of her former self, at this point. She was so overwhelmed with emotions, she could practically feel none of it at this point. She slid down the wall, pulling her knees up to her chest and burying her face in them.

That's when she finally broke down. In the middle of her apartment, surrounded by daunting notes, and mind filled with the hell she has been facing for so long. She cried, uncaring of how loud she was being. She just cried. For what felt like at least an hour.

The longer she cried, the more anger she felt. She felt as if the sadness was flowing away with her tears, and uncovering much more on the inside. As soon as she finally stopped crying, she was just tired. Tired of anything and everything. She just wanted all of it to go away.

In a frenzy, she gathered all of the notes from all over her house and tried thinking of a way of disposal. In the end, she chose to just rip them to shreds, and dump them in her trash can. She grabbed a knife from the kitchen. No matter how she did it, she would make sure she couldn't recognize that symbol on her wall. All it did was remind her of... them.

She went to her room and proceeded to scratch out the symbol with her own knife. It had been large, so it took a while, but soon enough her wall was just an absolutely destroyed cut up mess. 

She finally felt like she could sit down, and calm down. It was gone. All of it was gone. So she would be okay, she decided. She sat in her bed, placing the knife under her pillow.  

Her hand shook as she wrote down a note in her journal for her to remember later. Maybe she could answer it some day.