Killer Romance [Book 1] [Jeff the Killer x Reader] [JTK]

Chapter 23: Duplex (Day 8) Edited

He was standing nearly five feet away from you.

The breeze was intoxicating as it filled your lungs with lament and morality, scraping the sides of your throat like it was meat hung up to dry. The sky didn't take the same approach because it didn't feel obligated to alarm you of your demise. Instead, it cast a grey shadow along its edge and drained the color from existence. It was all sucked up by the moon. But it wasn't the same moon that the rabbit once jumped over. It was more illuminating, more violating. Its curves were as slick as the fox that darted back into the woods behind you, escaping the foggy, cold night.

His face lacked all the natural accessories that a person would wear. Even from your point of view, you could see the purple shadows underneath his eyes and the pale, chapped lips begging for mercy and solitude. He told you that your ending would be in the exact place you were standing, happy or not, and asked if you were alright with that. You shook your head and instinctively peeled your eyes shut as if there were kaleidoscopes on the backs of your eyelids showing you fortunes better than the one you received.

The click of the gun was almost more deadly than the actual bullet, and the sound of its detonation haunted your dying brain until you were distracted by the insane amount of pain entering your chest. As the metal orb started to protrude into your heart, you screeched at the top of your lungs and bellowed in agony. It felt like a million needles were being yanked in and out of your body's organs, and you became quite aware that what you were feeling was worse than what you would feel if someone was scooping out your eye or pulling your tongue straight from the root until you choked on your own blood.

When the leaded slug reached your back after tearing up the inside of your heart and arteries, you fell backwards onto a bed of roses and slammed your head against the dirt. You saw torpedoes of a gooey substance flying out of the hole in your chest and screamed all the while. It was gushing out the same way an orange would produce liquid when squeezed to the point of malleability, quick and never-ending. You had no clue that much blood was in the human body. You couldn't believe that you were still breathing either.

And that's when a wolf attacked you and started to eat away at the flesh you exposed to the sky. You were terrified, and your hysterical cries could be heard miles and miles away by all the onlookers and passers-by that only cared about their own life. Your throat exploded with pain as you ripped your vocal cords trying to make him stop. It was eating your flesh, pulling out your stomach and intestines just to watch you bleed and stain the roses below with red tears.

But it still got worse. Especially when you felt a gallon of dirt fling onto your face and cover the inside of your screaming mouth with bacteria and worms. More mulch came crashing down upon the organ soup that was the remainder of your torso. You truly believed that you had lost all feeling in your midsection, but you hadn't. You were fully aware that there were now worms swimming around the pool of pain awaiting their afterparty feast of flesh. You could even feel the weight piling up on top of you as the hole you were in was being restocked with seventeen bags of deceit-ridden powder meant to relieve people instead of drown them. The wolf was laying beside you, victim to his own foolishness. But the devil saved your head for last, and that was the moment when you gave up. His eyes told you that he would never break a promise, and he had promised that you wouldn't be alive after your breaking point.

You screamed one last time for his amusement, inhaling pounds of scorching dirt infested with bombs. They went off as your entire lungs became filled to the brim with the mixture of mulch and your blood, and you imagined the way the goo squeezed out of your collapsing alveolus like juice.