A Little Warmth (Jeff the Killer x Reader) short story - asher - Wattpad

Story cover for A Little Warmth (Jeff the Killer x Reader) short story by gyu_chaos

A Little Warmth (Jeff the Killer x Reader) short story

Reads 1,262
Votes 27
Parts 7
Time 33m

Reads 1,262
Votes 27
Parts 7
Time 33m

creepypasta goretober goretober2023 jeff jeffreywoods jeffthekiller reader-insert short shortstory

Imagine making a friend while you're at a psych ward and then you meet again years later, but this time you're an artist and he's a murderer. Yeah...

 

That's kind of what this is.

(art on cover not mine! credit to original artist)All Rights Reserved

creepypasta goretober goretober2023 jeff jeffreywoods jeffthekiller reader-insert short shortstory

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7 parts

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*2016 Update* I plan on getting around to edit this eventually, so forgive the small grammar mistakes. ••••• "I won't kill you" he blurted out with regret. Confusion mingled with my fear. He regretted not killing me? "Who are you?" I asked, slowly moving toward the closed door. He looked at the painting on my easel, and smiled darkly. I saw it clearly for the first time, and my eyes widened. I had painted the man in my dream. His face, twisted in a smirk, dominated the canvas. A swirl of crimson paint surrounded him, and I saw myself in the painting, wearing a long, black evening gown, my hair in a long ponytail, my pail skin glowing, and I stared at the man with love in my eyes. The painting I had created shocked me to the point of forgetting to escape. "Nice" the man said, and yanked open the window above my bed. He crawled out of the room, crouched on the window sill. "Jeff" he said softly, watching me with interest. "Huh?" Came my dumbfounded voice. "My name is Jeff"

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Killer Can't Kill Me (Jeff the Killer fanfiction) COMPLETED

2016 Update I plan on getting around to edit this eventually, so forgive the small grammar mistakes. ••••• "I won't kill you" he blurted out with regret. Confusion mingled with my fear. He regretted not killing me? "Who are you?" I asked, slowly moving toward the closed door. He looked at the painting on my easel, and smiled darkly. I saw it clearly for the first time, and my eyes widened. I had painted the man in my dream. His face, twisted in a smirk, dominated the canvas. A swirl of crimson paint surrounded him, and I saw myself in the painting, wearing a long, black evening gown, my hair in a long ponytail, my pail skin glowing, and I stared at the man with love in my eyes. The painting I had created shocked me to the point of forgetting to escape. "Nice" the man said, and yanked open the window above my bed. He crawled out of the room, crouched on the window sill. "Jeff" he said softly, watching me with interest. "Huh?" Came my dumbfounded voice. "My name is Jeff"