Murder and Mutilation (Jeff the Killer Fanfic)

14. Forked

Jeff

I'd just begun walking my way back upstairs when the bathroom door opened and out walked Snow, blood-free and wrapped in a towel. I practically choked just seeing this much of her but she didn't seem like she could be bothered to care. Probably lost too much blood to even be stable, I was surprised she was upright and walking.

"Quit your gawking," she patted my chin and I straightened up as I snapped my mouth shut, "shower's all yours."

"Thank you," I murmured, "you look a lot better."

"Well I'm not drowning in my own blood so that's a good start," she said sarcastically before she walked down the hall and ducked into her bedroom, leaving me to set my drink on the counter and close the door behind me.

I turned the tap on but before I stripped down I inspected the wound, looking over the neat little stitches all lined up across my back. It was a little smaller than I'd expected but it felt like it ran from my shoulder down to my hip. After a deep breath and another drink I stripped out of my jeans, stepping into the shower for what was probably the first time in months. I turned the heat up in the hopes to feel it but to no avail, instead just accepting the rushing water and the relief it brought. The only thing that was going to suck—

"Son a bitch!" I hissed, the water seeping into the cut on my back as I slammed my fist against the wall, "oh God that stings..."

It might've hurt but at the same time the pain itself was a relief. Reminded me that I was still alive. I took full liberty of the shampoo and body wash, weeks of dirt and grime washing away before I finally shut the water off and hopped out. I felt like a whole new person as I wrapped a towel around my hips, getting a better look at myself in the mirror as I grabbed for my glass and knocked the rest of the whiskey back. My body tingled with warmth and the stinging sensation in my back eventually faded; I traced the lines of my scars and prodded at the dark circles around my eyes, laughing to myself about how shitty I looked. There wasn't any dirt or blood left beneath my nails though, my hair was still a tangled mess but at least it wasn't coated in grease anymore. A knock at the door shook me out of my self-admiration and I let it swing open to reveal Snow now dressed and holding out something I hadn't expected: a new hoodie.

"U-Um, sorry," she laughed, her face flushing pink as she tried to keep her eyes on the ground, "I got this for you a few days ago...good timing, huh?"

"Considering the other one has a massive cut in the back now, I'd say so," I chuckled incredulously as I took it from her, "thank you. I can't believe you actually thought of me."

"Don't think too hard on it. I also have some guy's clothes here— sweats and shirts— if you want me to wash your jeans."

"I...actually might take you up on that offer." I nodded, giving her a teasing snicker as she looked back up at me, "what, did your last one night stand leave his pajamas when he bailed out the window?"

"Oh fuck off," she groaned, slapping my chest as she walked by and collected my pants, "for your information Tom stays over a lot so I have a spare change."

"Are you sure he's not your boyfriend?" I playfully accused as I followed her back to the bedroom, earning myself another groan.

"He's not my boyfriend!" She kicked the door open and rifled through her closet for a minute before tossing a black shirt and a pair of sweats at me, "my head won't shut the fuck up when he's around me..."

I raised an eyebrow as she walked back out into the hallway but simply shrugged, getting dressed and feeling both comfortable for once and yet oddly exposed. In the light I could see the scars on my arms from hundreds of struggles, nails and knives both cutting through my skin. I wasn't keen on getting any more scalpels shoved into my back though and when Snow finally returned I could see the exhaustion in her eyes. She'd been through a lot in just a few hours, I wasn't surprised that she was tired.