Love me~ (Jeff the Killer Love Story)

Chapter 3

Her head was turned, staring rather intently towards a doorway that lead into a lone dining room. She felt her blood turn to ice as her breath hitched in her throat, clearly startled by the sudden sound. Her hands curled up into fist, shaking a bit nervously, and a chill ran up her spine. Did one of the girls upstairs wake up and accidentally break something looking for her? She didn't hear any footsteps, unless her friend was trying to sneak up on her and surprise her. Could it have been a ghost, like the ones in story books, trying to mainspring some mischief? Cause she hoped not. She didn't like ghosts or the supernatural, things she couldn't touch or feel. She enjoyed the warmth, the feeling of skin, and seeing all her friends' happy faces. Or perhaps someone broke in while she was sleeping and hadn't left yet. She did hear several tales on the News about a bad person breaking into people's houses and severely hurting them. Some had even been at a few of her friends' homes and she couldn't even check on them thanks to the police. Was there a- what did they call it? A loon? Was there some loon here in the house with her and the people upstairs? She could already feel his or her's eyes on her and she stood there like a kid who was caught with their hands in the cookie jar. She could already feel their hot breath in her ear and their cold hands wrapping around her throat. Her hand instantly flew up to her neck and she sighed in relief when there was no hand actually there. It was just her imagination, though it felt evocative. It evoked a fear in her, one she wasn't too keen on and she knew she needed something to protect herself with. Fighting with only her bare hands would end grimly, as the word strong did not suit her one bit. She was, however, fast on her feet and could, as her father would say, vamoose out of there. That probably wouldn't be such a bad idea now, seeing as she already said goodbye to her friends, but she wasn't that lousy of a friend to save her own hide. Especially when her own friends were in danger. The least she could do was lead the kook out and away from the house.

So she stepped into the dining room, flipping the light switch on, and skulked around a large dining table. Her heart pounding in her chest as she anxiously looked around the room, keeping her vision alert to any unanticipated movement. There was no sign of life though, asides from her, in the room and the silent ambiance surrounding her made her feel jumpy. Like one of those people in a horror movie. 'That's the last thing I want to compare the situation to.' she thought peevishly. As she took another step, a strange crunch sounded out, making her stop in her tracks. Glancing down, saw little colorful bits and pieces of a broken vase scattered about. She crouched down, interested in the different shades of blue, and went to pick up a piece. Only to have her left pointer finger nicked by a sharp edge. Her hand flinched back, dropping the small shard, and she was forced to stifle a laugh, which was a peculiar reflex of her's when it came to pain, at the stinging pain. She briskly brought her injured finger up to her mouth and sucked at the salty bitter-tasting  liquid leaking from the cut. As she did that, her right hand moved over to the sliver of pottery she had cut herself on and warily picked it up, letting it rest on her palm. She shifted it around for few seconds in her hand, feeling the honed edge tickling her flesh, before running her thumb along the smooth ceramic surface of the fragment. How easy would it be for her to just scoop up some of these pieces and give them a squeeze? Letting them get embedded into her skin and spilling more of that nasty tasting red liquid. Or to try and swallow them like pills, to see if they'd tickle her insides like they did her skin? She should definitely get one of her friends to try it out for her, see if the outcome would be like she imagined. She took her finger out of her mouth, wiping the saliva off on her shirt, and stood up, placing the small shard into her pant's pocket. It probably served her no purpose, but it was pretty shade of light blue and she wanted to keep it.

With the mystery of what made the sound now solved, she continued on her search for the person who caused it. Pretending to be a great detective on the hunt for a national jewel thief while doing so. She walking into the next room, which happened to be the living room, and avidly searching for another clue of the person's whereabouts. Coming up short though, her pursuit had to be put on halt. Although she had the perfect evidence that someone else had been here, she had no lead of where to go next since she didn't hear any footsteps. There was nothing she could find that pointed her in the direction of the crazed pot smasher. Who even does that? Just break into a stranger's house and break all their pots? It's not like you're going to find money in there, unless the owner just so happened to hide their stash inside. She strolled over and sauntered up the staircase, having decided to check in on the sleeping girls to make sure that fruitcake didn't try to hurt them. She ambled down the hallway and into their room, inhaling sharply at the sight that laid before her. The girls, whom she had helped into bed earlier, now laid about the floor hacked up into pieces. Their heads, which had been severed from their necks, all sat align on a large pink dresser with little cuts on their faces and their eyelids missing. One even had a broad smile carved upon her cheeks, making her grin from ear to ear. A pungent smell wafted through the air hitting her nostrils, making her face scrunch up in distaste. She was too late, whoever was here had already got to them. She could only pay her respects to her lost friends now, whom she had failed to protect. She didn't even know their names, not that it mattered to her, yet she felt like she betrayed them. Leaving them all alone while a madman or woman ran amok, she really was a bad friend. Tears started to form in her eyes, as she felt kind of heartbroken, and had to turn her head to avoid looking into their somber eyes. She stuck her bottom lip out, pouting, before noticing something written sloppily on one of the walls in a familiar red paint.  "Do you like my masterpiece? Next time it'll be you, if you decide steal one of my targets again. And you wouldn't want that. So I suggest you leave this neighborhood now unless you want to go to sleep. ~JTK" she read out loud, confused as to what the message meant. What did it mean by "stealing one of my targets"? What does sleeping have to do with this, sure she was tired but she didn't need this person's help with that. And what does JTK stand for? Just there kidding? Just the king? She wasn't familiar with text talk, only hearing about it from other girl who used this thing called a cellphone, so she had no idea what it could mean. All she knew was that she could leave now, without feeling bad. And sure, she was sad just a few seconds ago, but friends always come and go for her. These friendships never last, she never got to see any of the friends she made after the first meet, and they always gave her the silent treatment like they were mad at her. All she wanted was their love, she wanted to hear them say that they love her. But they didn't have to say it, she knew they loved her, and she loved them too. 'Help me!' 'It hurts so much!' 'Make it stop, please!' 'I'm sorry!' she shook her head and let out a huff, the soft feminine voices whispering in her ears reminding her of the girls. Whoever this JTK was, they can have what they want. She wanted just wanted to get home, get something to eat, and go to bed. "Sorry girls, this JTK guy won. I'm going home, I had fun though. Sorry you had to be chopped into pieces." she muttered, looking back at their heads. She'll just have to try harder next time.

There was a dark chuckle coming from her blind spot, also known as her left peripheral vision, and as she turned her head to look, she saw a glimpse of white pass by the doorway before hearing footsteps run down the hall.