Personal Lock Down (Jeff The Killer X Reader)~Creepypasta

16: Affects...

*Present Time*
*Your Pov.*

Someone wrap their rough hand around my wrist spinning me around and yank me into into their chest and off the dance floor. I let out a surprised shriek, trying to claw at the person's hand, looking to see who is was but he was behind me. I struggled in their grasp as they stole me away to one of the dark corners of the club. I fought the best I could and the person chuckled darkly in my ear before spinning me around to face them.

"Hello, Doll." I met eyes with the bartender. Relief washed over me and I sighed, placing a hand over my racing heart. "Didn't mean to scare ya." He winked at me and I just rolled my eyes.

"Didn't scare me." I placed my hands on my hips, letting all my weight balance on my right foot. "Just startled." He let out a loud laugh before nodding.

"Whatever you say, Doll." I scoffed at his nickname for me and gave him a look that I was no toy. One he saw my reaction he chuckled and pointed to the empty table behind him. "Care to sit down and talk with me?" I looked at him, then the table, then him again. That killer could be watching and this guy would be  a goner. Or what if this man was some sort of druggy or rapist? I debated on whether I should or not and in the end, I shrugged. Why the heck not! I mean, I'm going to be pretty much living with a killer, why not have fun while I can!

He grabbed my hand and pulled me over to the table. He pulled a chair out for me and I took a seat. He pushed me in before sitting next to me. Well, he's a gentleman. We sat there for a moment, listening to the music and watching all the hormonal people as they danced and drank the night away. Lights scanned the room an looked as if they were bouncing off the walls. People laughed, chugged, flirted, danced, whatever you could basically do at a club. It was a stereotypical thing. I wonder what Tom would think if he knew I was here?

"You're very beautiful." I was brought from my own thoughts when the bartender spoke. I met eyes with him and tilted my head a bit.

"Excuse me?" I wasn't sure if I heard him right. Did he call me beautiful?

"I said you're very beautiful." He chuckled as he shoulder lightly bumped into mine. No one has ever called me beautiful before other than my Uncle. It was always hot or babe or sweet cheeks. Never beautiful. I narrowed my eyes. This was a man who was just flirting with me. He also seemed like a person that loved to go around and sweet talk girls. I shivered a bit at the thought, memories of my ex popping into my head. I shook my head before nodding lightly.

"Thanks." I muttered as I let my eyes travel to the crowd of dancing people. They all looked so careless, like nothing could ever touch them. I was like that one. In fact, I just felt like that. It's amazing how one small thing can really change a person's mood. I was just carefree and out there... And now here I am, feeling a bit nervous and self-conscious.

Why is it that people have these affects on us? Why is it that one word can make us either shut down or light up? Why is it that when most people have this powerful affect, they use it to their advantages instead of good deeds?

"You're very quiet now." I looked up at the bartender before shrugging and turning my gaze to the crowd once more. "Just ten minutes ago you were shouting and being all flirty and now here we are and you're just... Bleh." I rolled my eyes at his explanation.

"What does 'bleh' mean?" I asked as I turned to face him. I was starting to see right through him and if I was correct... This was all a set up.

"Nothing personal. You're very attractive. How about you and me go have a few drinks." He wasn't offering, he was telling. I smirked before shaking my head.

"I had enough tonight." I said as I stood up. "Thanks for the talk though." I began to walk away when I felt a hand wrap around my waist and me being pulled back into a hard chest.