Hello, whoever's reading this. I kind of like that you're reading this. But, do you really believe it? Do you think it's fake? Let's find out.
Do you believe?
Would you believe it when I head to your house carrying a sharp knife that is ready to cut and slice your skin? Would you believe it when I enter your house, feigning good intent? How would you feel if I slipped unknown into your room, eager to begin.
I am very eager to begin.
Can you say you would believe it when I begin to slice you open? Will you believe it when your blood starts to pour out of you and colors us bright?
I'm going to slice you open.
I know I would believe it. I would enjoy it too. I would love it when your eyes snap open and you see us standing there, already covered in your blood.
We're all covered in your blood.
I'll love the look of fear and terror that would cross your face when you understand what's happening; when you finally believe.
Do you believe?
And when you try to scream for help, I'll love that look of miserable understanding when you realize that no one will come to help.
They can't.
I'll cut you into something pretty, I promise. I'll make it hurt a lot, I swear. That's what you want, right? Isn't that what you were asking for when you laughed while reading our story?
Who's laughing now?
No? Then, it's what you deserve. For not believing. I'll show you pain. I'll give you so much pain, you'd start to scream. I can't wait to hear your screams. And when you beg me to stop, I'll laugh.
You're begging him to stop.
I'll smile at your ruined face and say, "But, you wanted this, right?" Then, I'll laugh more as I make the final cut that would end your life.
We're laughing.
I can't wait. Oh, don't be afraid. Please don't. I won't come after you right away. But, she will.
I'm coming.
Don't be scared. That thumping you hear is just her coming to your door. I'm the one banging on your window. I just want to carve you into something pretty. I want to make you beautiful. Do you believe now? Okay. Now, GO TO SLEEP.
Shh . . . Don't worry.
YOU ARE READING
Dear My Sanity (A Jeff the Killer Story)
Fanfiction*FIRST BOOK IN THE Dear My Sanity SERIES* "Look at your hands. Their blood is on your hands." Jamie stares at her blood covered hands. She clenches her jaw, a muffled scream coming from her. I let her scream but I look around, knowing the police wou...
