A N G U I S H ➵ Jeff The Killer x Reader (Dark)

Memory 11

My own personal vendetta set against myself urged me to turn back, to succumb to a defeat I couldn't face. A defeat I feared would lead to death, an object of a cycle I could not afford to lose to. A loss that was as predictable as a pleasant Sunday morning bathing in the ignorance of bliss. A bliss I no longer owned; a bliss that I allowed to become stolen within my own observation. An observation I pitied in the likes of now. 

The painful harmony of birds resonated through my skull, other sounds simply silenced and twisted into white noise within the setting crafted into a nightmare. A realistically twisted dream, all of the dreams, wants, desires, forming into a cloud of misery. It reflected the birds as a massive extended metaphor. ALWAYS WATCHES. NO EYES. Except the eyes were still present. A fearful presence that highlighted the lack of knowledge of hatred, deception and treachery hidden from the eyes of innocence. An innocence that was evaporated. Gone, without a trace.

Walking through the corridor of death, I felt strangely confined in my own thoughts. Thoughts of the past that strangely subjected me to this current situation. Firstly, my mothers death - which at the time, I believed was entirely coincidental up until recently. I had my own theory on what had happened. I believed she had witnessed something she shouldn't have that ultimately lead to her fall, and afterwards, the causation of the fall went back to finish off the job. Quite farfetched, I know but everything had been all levels of crazy recently. Happenings that should be simply fantasy crafting their way into a sick reality. A weirdly strange lack of ignorance.

In the darkness ahead of me, although faint, I was able to pinpoint an outline of a door as I approached closer. The squawking of the birds seemed to increase in volume, a final warning urging me to flee. Oh, how I wished it was that simple. A simplicity I could not afford. My arm swung out once again, a sense of a fucked up deja vu influencing a tinge of dread developing like a pestilence. A pestilence that grew in size the longer I waited for my own sense of personal freedom. This door was different to the last, instead of opening with a silent creak, it swung open with a painfully loud squeak of protest. A protest that immediately had me cringing back in fear. My own personal perseverance didn't matter though, of course it didn't, as on the opposite side of the door I was able to catch sight of the devil himself. Jeff.

He was leant casually against a window sill, back facing me as he stared out into the darkness of the night. The sound of rain and thunder echoed in the distance, a pair of nuisances combining into a storm that I doubted would quit anytime soon. I stood frozen in a pool of panic, breaths coming out in frozen alarm in the expectation of confrontation, muscles freezing and ready to flee within a moments notice.

  "Took your fuckin' time," I had almost jumped in surprise, the words were leaked out in a venomous manner. He continued to stand still, without a care in a world as he regarded me like the vermin I was, "was wondering if you fucking shit your pants already, doll."

I stood like a fish forced out of water, mouth agape in an excuse to regain my thoughts. Alarm set in, twisting its ignorance into words that were better left unsaid,

  "I-I want to go home."  I had attempted to sound firm, confident but instead I sounded like a measly, foolish girl stuck in an unfortunate circumstances.

  "Home, huh? You don't have a fuckin' home anymore, dumbass." He hissed, a serpent twisting the ideology of being vague. I had no clue on what he had meant by that, and I wasn't sure I wanted to, however, when he pointed out of the window with a burnt finger, a dark curiosity set in. I itched two metres closer, figure raising in order to see the subject of his interest. I forced myself to hold back a sob as I watched the scene unfold. We were located a few buildings opposite my house that was no longer the way I had remembered it.

Instead of standing in a tall, beacon of hope filled memories, it stood tall in a barricade of smoke. Flames licked and roared at the sky, merciless in it's endeavors of destruction. A heartless destruction caused by the foundation of hatred present in the room with me. I had to hold back curses, my own safety being the only thing I owned anymore. Everything else was gone. Every memory of my mother, lost. Every memory of my childhood, lost. 

Gone without a trace.