Loved By a Killer - A JTK Love Story

Part 2

PHOENIX'S POV

I woke up the next morning still pondering the events of the night before. My head was spinning with unanswered questions: Why did he spare me? How the heck am I still alive? Does this mean they're all real? What the hell is going on? I was still pondering this as I grabbed the book I was reading, Harry Potter, and headed down to breakfast, trying to ignore the stares that always seemed to follow me. I rolled my eyes as I saw several people cross themselves. Why are they acting like this? Let me explain.

My name is Phoenix Jade  Laiken. I'm 18 years old, and I'm...different, I guess. I have long wavy black hair, pale features, and intense electric blue eyes that everyone here finds creepy. I also have a preference for dark colors, mostly black and red. I love to read, and listen to rock music

Why is this an issue? Because I live in a very religious group home with about twenty other people. And to them, dark colors, fantasy, and rock music are strictly off limits and "sinful." This place also condemns tattoos (I have two) and talking about gay marriage (which I support). This doesn't put me on good terms with anyone, but frankly I couldn't give less of a damn. They're not staring at me 'cause I'm pretty (I used to get told that alot, but I never believed it) they're staring at me 'cause I'm weird. The fact that I was wearing a black Supernatural shirt with a pentagram on it only made matters worse.

More than once people kept trying to sneak up behind me to see what I was reading. The third or fourth time this happened, I turned around and faced the offender, Jessica Landis, with a smile. "May I help you?"

"I was just wondering what unholy piece of trash you were reading this time, ScarFace," she said.

I twisted around so that the pentagram on my shirt was in full view. She grimaced and closed her eyes. "It's called Harry Potter. It's full of fantasy and magic and adventure. You should try it."

"All the people who read that are going to hell. You're probably learning tons of dark magic right now. Witchcraft is evil and everybody knows that."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I must have missed that fact somewhere. Now will you please leave? I have better things to do than listen to gibberish." She gave me a look and stalked off. I grumbled as I resumed reading.

ScarFace. People have been calling me that since I first started living here, and I've been here a year and a half. And it's not because I have scars on my arms, either. Mostly it's because of my Glasgow grin scar.

See, I was depressed before I started living here, and I was a cutter. When I was 13, I hit an all time low and didn't care about the pain anymore. All I wanted to do was smile, but I couldn't. So I took a razor to my face and basically gave myself a smile. I didn't care If I died, either, because I would die smiling. My parents discovered me, however, and took me to the hospital, where I required tons of stitches. They told me I would have the scar forever, and due to me being pale all over it's not exactly hard to see. I also have slightly slurred speech as a result.

After breakfast, everyone went down to service, which lasts from 9 to 11. I had to pass the little chapel on my way back to my room and therefore hear whispers of "Repent, sinner!" and "Look, it's the one who's too good for God."

I went to my room, slammed the door, collapsed on the bed, and looked around. It was basically a normal teenagers bedroom with posters everywhere, covering the blue walls. It's the only thing in this place that feels like home.

I had two hours to myself since everyone was at service, so I decided to listen to my Ipod. By the time service was done I was listening to Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen and singing at the top of my voice. When I sang the line "Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me," I heard several people scream and doors slamming, followed by loud gospel music. 

"These people have no sense of humor," I said to myself.

JEFF'S POV

Five days have passed and Phoenix has been on my mind alot. Now before you say anything, I'm not in love. This isn't a love-at-first-sight thing, this is more of a I-really-want-to-get-to-know-her kind of thing. I want to know why she acted so accepting. It's bugging me. Most people scream in terror when they see me. Some even try to fight me off. But she...she didn't say anything, or do anything, she just closed her eyes and waited. And why the heck wasn't she scared when I touched her? She even leaned her face into my hands, as if she wanted comfort or something.

I tried to ignore these thoughts as I crept towards the residence of my next target. When I climbed in her mirror she screamed...not in fear, but excitement. "Oh my god, it's Jeff the killer!" Fangirls. I rolled my eyes.

"Can I hug you?" she asked.

"Absolutely fucking not," I responded, but she didn't pay any heed to my words and hugged me anyway. I threw her off of me easily and sent her crashing into her mirror. Shards of glass flew everywhere. I walked over to her, picked her up, and pinned her against the wall while holding the knife to her neck. Now she was getting scared.

"But...but...I love you," she said. 

"How nice," I responded. I pressed the knife closer to her neck and saw little drops of blood appear. She started gasping for breath. 

"Go to sleep," I said, before slashing her neck. Blood spurted everywhere as I threw her corpse off me. I licked the blood off my fingers before letting out a shout of maniacal laughter, which continued as I finished off the rest of her pathetic family.

And yet...when I walked out there was Phoenix on the corners of my mind again. All I knew right about then is surprisingly I'm glad I didn't kill her...yet. Time will tell. And for time to tell, I have to see her again.

I started off towards the home.