Death's Slave [Jeff the Killer]

Chapter 17: The Mistake

After that agonising moment with Jeff in the shower, I decided I needed time to myself. Drying myself was easy enough, but dressing myself was not. Without any help, I didn't bother with my bra. While I was looking for a t-shirt as comfortable as my new sweatpants, I heard something - at least, I thought I did. I grabbed the first top I could see, and slipped it on over my damp hair. Paranoid, I grabbed my beautiful knife. Jeff had cleaned it for me that night after all was said and done.

Hearing the familiar creaking of the door, I spun around and yelled, "Who's there!?"

I received no answer. I saw nothing. The door hadn't moved.

God this place is creepy..

As I turned my back to the door, I felt a hand touch my arm. Whoever it was they were just out of view. I looked to my right. No one.

I froze. The noises could have been the monsters that roamed the house. They scared me, every one of them. Why they all stayed together, I would never know, but I knew they were all murderers. -but who touched me? Trying to calm myself I moved towards Jeff's stash.

Jeff barged in. I was still in my head, confused as to whether these things were real or not. Jeff was red in the face, soaking wet, and completely naked. He slammed the rotting door behind him, and charged me. Jeff grabbed my upper arms with his strong hands. His grip had the strength of a python, crushing me. I felt the pressure of my own weight come off my feet as he lifted me effortlessly. My toes barely touched the floor. The fire in his eyes was brighter than ever before. I was terrified.

"You think you can get away with disobeying me?" Jeff yelled, "I told you I wanted a kiss! What's the matter with you!? You were told from the beginning, I would kill you if you did not listen!"

Petrified and in shock, I could barely breathe. This man was going to kill me. My mind was racing, but there was no one to call out to, and no way I could talk him down. Then I realised, I was still holding my knife.

Idjit.

My forearms were free to move at least up and down. With all my strength, I swung the blade upwards and into Jeff's arm. I could feel the hot, red liquid spill onto my hand as Jeff yelled in shock and pain, then growl in anger. Immediately following, I ripped the knife out of his arm. Jeff yelped a little and dropped me, however, I soon found out it wasn't due to pain - it was anger.

Then, Jeff slapped me. He had slapped me so hard I dropped the knife and fell back against the wall. Jeff looked shocked that I had fought back, while I was shocked that I'd just been smacked.

"Stupid girl. You can't just do whatever you want! Life for you is not how it used to be and you better do as I say next time or this punishment will be your last warning," he threatened with malice on his tongue.

While I was still against the wall, Jeff reached for my waist with his good arm, and placed his injured arm between me and the door, leaning on his palm. Jeff began to pull my pants down, but left my panties alone. I struggled, fearing the worst. Jeff grabbed my throat to hold me in place.

"Take 'em off, all the way," Jeff instructed. I did as I was told and kicked my pants away.

Jeff then threw me onto the bed, where I landed face down.