Chapter Six

880 30 13
                                    

Jeff the Killer's Point of View

Messing with Jack was fun. Not as fun as stealing part of Jane's knife collection (or sometimes her mask, if she pissed Jeff off too much), but close enough.

A few hours later, Jack had practically choked Jeff by forcing him to eat something ("What the Hell are you? My Mother?"
"No, dumbass. If I recall correctly, you killed her.")
And about ten minutes after Jeff had finished, Jack told him to get ready because they were going to start the missions for this week.
"C'mon," Jack said, placing a CD in his duffle bag.
"Hamilton?"
Jack nodded, opening the Mansion's door.
The walked out back and continued walking until they got to a road.
"Hey, Jack, can you die of blood loss?"
"I dunno."
"Can you close your own wound?"
"If I'm not dying."
"Great," Jeff announced, taking out his knife and cutting at Jack's wrist. "Sorry. Walkout to the street like I'm chasing you."
Jack listened, running out in front of a black Ford Explorer, as he turned to face it, the brakes came to a halt. Jeff watched Jack fall.
If you're wondering how good Jack's acting was, it was horrible. He stumbled into the road like a drunk Frankenstein. When the care stopped, he automatically fell down. Not stumbling backward and then falling. And his scream sounded like one from the old horror movies, prerecorded and far too deep.
Jeff chuckled to himself, now hiding by a nearby tree. He could've been a director instead of a killer.
An old guy stumbled out of the car. His hair was perfectly white and skin pale.
Jumping out from his hiding place, Jeff stood behind the man placing his knife against the stranger's throat.
"Shh... Hand us the keys," Jeff whispered, earning a scream from the guy and a muffled no through tears.
Jeff grinned.
"Go to sleep." His knife sliced the man's neck, a satisfied smile as blood spattered across his face.
Jack stood up and ran back into the woods to retrieve their duffle bags.
Jeff smiled and got the keys, which were in the car. He also found the man's wallet, a pack of cigarettes, and lighter.
"How nice of him to leave us gifts," Jeff said to himself, grabbing the light and a cigarette. He lit the thing that would grant him lung cancer and began smoking.
It was so quiet, Jeff had forgotten about Jack. Maybe this is why he jumped slightly as the trunk slammed close. Soon, he felt someone's breath down his neck.
A tingling feeling with a little bit of excitement sparked in Jeff's chest.
"Hi," Jack mumbling, slipping into the passenger's seat. "Are you seriously fucking smoking?"
Jeff smiled and turned on the radio.
"No," Jack said, taking a familiar disc out of his pocket. He opened the golden Hamilton case before taking out something that Jeff hadn't expected-a Three Days Grace album. He injected the disc and the first song started up.
An awkward silence filled the car.
"Where's your mask," Jeff asked, trying to fill the silence.
"Wow. Seriously? Do you think I'm ugly or something? Jesus Christ, Jeff. Why don't you just ask me where Jenny put my eyes," Jack said all of this fast, and automatically crossed his arms. He also turned his head away from Jeff. "You know, not everyone is as confident as you are. Or likes it when you yell. They think it's really annoying. Even Nina has said she's wanted to kill you at times. You're that fucking rude the only person who loves you hates you."
"I didn't mean that. You just never show your face. I don't think you're ugly at all," Jeff's loud voice became very soothing and Jack turned his head to give Jeff a curious look. "Ca-May I ask you a question?"
Jack nodded, giving Jeff permission to ask him.
"Who's Jenny?"
"She was an old classmate I trusted." And Jack stopped talking for a while.
"Do you really think I'm not ugly?"
Jeff nodded. "You're almost as beautiful as me. But if you tell anyone I said that I'll kill you and keep your head on my wall."

Eight Days | Eyeless Jack x Jeff the KillerWhere stories live. Discover now