To Live without Fear [Jeff the KillerxReader]

9

No signs of forced entry or exit. No alarms set off, no footage of the escape, no tunnels dug with spoons. Jeff the Killer had escaped Holding after less than 4 hours, scott free and completely untraceable.

You wished you knew his secret.

Police and News interviews were tolerable. You had no fear of speaking. But the moment your parents got home, all hell broke loose.

You were on parental house arrest. The doors and windows were always locked, and one of them always had to be in the house with you. They pulled you out of public school and registered you to an online learning program. And if that didn't sound like prison enough, they barred your window. That's right, actual metal bars on your bedroom window. Your parents had full out Harry Potter'd this shit.

Though you weren't technically confined to your room, you had kept yourself holed up within it for the past two weeks. You had hoped that this silent protest-along with your loud verbal protests whenever they walked in, of course- would convince your parents to stop ruining your life, just a little bit. On the contrary, they seemed perfectly happy with you staying in your room 24/7. In their opinion, that was the safest place for you, anyways. So you opted for plan B.

Over the course of several days, you snuck food from the kitchen into your room. You stuffed your stolen rations into an old hiking backpack that you hadn't used in years, along with some clothes, all of your money, a tent, a sleeping bag and other various necessities. By the end of the third week of your confinement, you were ready to rock n' roll.

You left your panic button and cellphone sitting on the bed. It was the dead of night, and the house was silent as the grave. You crept ever so carefully down the stairs. A single noise and your parents could wake up and send you back to the drawing board. One step made a small creak and you froze. Three seconds went by. Five seconds. Ten. Your parents didn't stir, and you continued. Once you were on ground level, it was smooth sailing. You unlatched the front door and stepped out into the fresh air for the first time in nearly a month. You could relish in it later, though. Right now you had to get moving. You jogged off into the night and never looked back.

The sun was just starting to rise as you hopped on the first bus out of town. It was nearly empty, containing only you, the driver, and a weary-looking man in a suit. Nevertheless, you kept your hood up and your face turned to the window. Your parents would tear down the gates of hell to find you, and you were gonna make sure they would have a fucking hard time doing so.

You fell asleep at some point, and awoke to the jerk of the bus stopping in the next town over. You decided to get off the bus here, and hitchhike to somewhere out of state. It took a few hours of walking down the road, but you managed to hitch a ride with a trucker. His name was Jackson and he was a pretty friendly guy, so you ended up riding with him all the way to the next state. You parted ways, and once again you were on your own. It was evening and you had eaten nothing but snacks all day, so you stopped by a McDonalds for dinner, hit up a minimart for a few fresher foods, and set out to find a place to sleep. Turned out the outskirts of town were heavily wooded, making the perfect place to set up your tent.

You curled up in your sleeping bag and listened to the nighttime sounds. You were stiff from riding, your feet hurt from walking, and one could only get so comfortable in a sleeping bag, but you felt....content. You felt free. You could do whatever you wanted now, with no cops following you, no doctors prescribing new experimental treatments, and most importantly, no suffocating parents. With that happy thought, you drifted off to sleep.

In your dreams you heard it. The sound of your tent door unzipping, very slowly, very quietly. It was just enough to start pulling you awake. There was a slight rustle, and then another. More of your senses came back to you, and you could feel the cold night air on your cheek. You were lying on your side, your (h/c) hair sprayed across your face, and....there was someone leaning over you. You rolled onto your back and heard a dark chuckle.

"Go....to....slee-" The rough voice stopped short as you opened your eyes. Simultaneously both you and your attacker had the same realization, and the word came from both of your mouths at the same time; "You."

Jeff stumbled backwards out of your tent and you pulled yourself out of your sleeping bag. The Killer was at a loss for words.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, the shock of seeing you again evident on his face.

"What am I doing here? What are you doing here?!" You exclaimed, "Trying to kill me again? Really?!"

"Nonono." Jeff said, still in denial, "I left you behind. I gave up. I let you get away and here you are. When are you gonna leave me alone?!"

You laughed spitefully. "Me? Leave you alone?" Anger was building up inside of you, and you took a step towards Jeff. He seemed to sense your rage, and looked just a little bit afraid. "You ruined my life!"

You took a swing at Jeff's face, which he narrowly avoided, and launched into a full on rant punctuated by punches. "My parents took me out of school. They barred my windows. I lost all my friends. They never left me alone. I had to freaking run away to get a little fresh air! And all because you had to break in all stab-happy and RUIN EVERYTHING!!"

At the end of your rant you finally managed to land a critical hit; a swift, merciless kick right between his legs. Jeff collapsed to the ground with a slight whimper and dropped his knife. You picked it up. Seeing the killer on his knees like that was unbelievably satisfying. You pointed the knife at him and smirked, "You better start making up for it pretty damn quick."