Fatalities (Yandere Jeff the Killer x Reader)

Obsess & Punish

*11 Days Ago*

Sprinting away from the ancient factory, the creature couldn't help but pant as he expelled additional energy after his physical altercation with the investigator. I wasn't expecting her to be that in shape. No one has ever been able to keep up with me like that, not even close. After miles and miles were ran through, Jeff found himself overcome with extreme exhaustion, prompting him to finally stop running to catch his breath. Checking his phone, he saw the time was 10:40 PM. At this rate, am I even going the right way? I shouldn't have made Toby drive us out this far. Then again... I wasn't expecting this all to happen. Eyeing a tree, Jeff debated on whether or not to climb it to get some rest for the night. Biting his lip, he continued to ponder before finally deciding that it was probably best, as he was not in the right mental capacity to calculate how far the mansion was from his current location.

Climbing the tree with weakened arms, Jeff finally made it to a high enough branch to ensure his safety. Once settled in, Jeff touched his face with his right hand before pulling it away and observing the alarming amount of blood pooled within his palm; his chest heaved heavily as he thought back to his fight with (Y/n). Small giggles began to grow louder before turning into large cackles, Jeff holding his aching stomach with humorous tears in his eyes. I've never had... this much fun. As the maniac's eyes grew heavier with sleep, the last thought Jeff had before passing out was this: The next move is yours, (Y/n). Catch me if you can.

Daylight shone through leaves and branches onto the face of Jeff, prompting him to open his eyes and grunt with annoyance. Jeff suddenly felt himself involuntarily slipping off the branch before beginning to fall. With haste, Jeff pulled out his knife and immediately stabbed it into the bark of the tree, stopping his fall just in time. As he climbed down, the pasta observed his surroundings while he stretched, before deciding to run back the rest of the way to the mansion.

*10:14 AM*

Collapsing onto his bed, Jeff desired badly to sleep in an attempt to heal his wounds properly, before finding that it seemed to be easier said than done. Being unable to sleep, Jeff found himself staring at his reflection within a mirror, realizing the damage that the investigator had dealt was far worse than he could've imagined. His nose was broken out of place, along with matted and coated hair sticking to the unimaginable amount of blood plastered onto his face. His left eye was more swollen than he had imagined, almost being completely shut, along with large cuts on his cheeks and forehead. Lifting his shirt up, he noticed little to no injury, as a majority of her attacks had been aimed at his face. Jeff began to wonder about the girl's injuries; were they as bad as his, and if so, how about her mental wounds? The creature couldn't quite understand humans and their immense hatred for violence, as to him, violence was more than pleasurable. However, he found himself curious about more than that... what was the investigator like, otherwise?

Why was her home so plain and void of personalization? Did she think of him often, like he thought of her? Jeff found himself smirking. She has to be... I ruined her life. Not only was Jeff thrilled about the hurt and pain that he had caused the woman, he was thrilled that he was on her mind regardless of the reason for it. Why? He had no clue. But for now, that was enough for Jeff. With a warm smile on his face, Jeff exited his room, waiting for (Y/n)'s next move. He went about his regular life for 10 days, which included trainings and missions. Every single day at dusk and dawn, he turned his TV on and hoped the investigator would be there, giving a press conference about the murder of her ex-boyfriend, only to find himself disappointed and angered when he did not receive this.

Jeff persistently walked around the station as well with his hoodie on, only to find that her car was nowhere to be found. He found himself becoming enraged, infatuated with the idea of the investigator running into him, only to be let down each time. After checking with Ben and asking him to track (Y/n)'s credit card and bank account usage only to be told she had not been active within the past week and a half, this was the last straw for Jeff. Even checking to see if her vehicle was parked in her driveway, Jeff still found no one in sight. Punching his bedroom wall until there was a large dent shaped like a fist, Jeff disregarded the bloody gashes on his knuckles as he seethed at the mouth. I won't let you disappear; I will make you come back to me.

*Present Day; 6:19 PM*

Wiping his bloody knife off with his hoodie, Jeff began to grin maliciously from behind a building as he witnessed the investigator's car arrive at the station at long last. He watched (Y/n) get out of her vehicle hurriedly before walking into the police station. She was donning dress pants with a simple T-shirt and Converse along with no makeup, a mix of casual and formal. So, I DID ruin her mentally. My M.O. isn't the only one that has changed, I see. Walking away slowly and self-assured, Jeff made his way back to the mansion. Upon arriving and going up to his bedroom, he found himself able to quickly fall asleep in a deep slumber for the first time in weeks; comfort fulfilled Jeff as their previous dynamic fell back into place.

Art opened his office door after hearing soft knocking, before looking at the individual before him up and down with surprise. Heading back to his desk, he sat and simply continued writing the report before him. "I see you've gone through some personal... development, I should say," Art stated towards the investigator before him.

(Y/n) refused to look anywhere but at the chief of police in front of her, encouraging herself mentally before responding seriously, "I said I would come back and I did. I came straight here after stopping at home briefly."

Art paused his writing, staring up at the woman before him curiously. "Oh? I would assumed you would take your leave at home as one would normally, considering it's most peoples' place of comfort."

(Y/n) found herself at somewhat of a loss of what to say. After all, their last encounter had been anything but pleasant, and she was still dealing with the loss of Sam. Nonetheless, she had a job to do and could not let anything distract her again. And so, the investigator forced herself to shove her feelings down to be forgotten. Leaning against the wall, the investigator straightened her face and folded her arms. "I assume you've read my statement to the police force." Art put his pen down before leaning back in his chair and folding his arms also, giving the girl his full attention while nodding in affirmation. With a bitter smirk, (Y/n) continued. "Of course, I am nothing but crazy in their eyes. However crazy it sounds, it's truly what happened. The unsub is in his 20's as previously thought. Jet black long hair, no eyelids, pale skin, a carved smile on his face that seems to have healed long ago. Around 6' tall, medium build, typical attire consists of a hoodie and sweats or joggers it seems. We had a physical encounter and he is much stronger than he seems to be. Typical weapon is a large knife, though we already knew that from the autopsies. He seems to be infatuated with the idea of hurting people mentally more than anything."

Art seemed impatient with her repeated description. "Why are you telling me all this? I read the report already. How am I supposed to trust that you are mentally competent enough to continue being on this case?"

The woman stared back at the man before her with determination. "Because there is one thing I didn't report. I knew they already didn't take me seriously, but I know you do have respect for me, so hear me out." Art waited for (Y/n) to continue. Walking up to the man's desk, the woman took his pen and his notebook before drawing momentarily. Once she was finished, the woman put the pen down and continued to lean over the desk. "He has strength and speed that is not normal for a human being. I can't explain it, but I got the sense that he could've ended my life if he really wanted to, almost as if I were a bug under his thumb. I think he was simply toying with me. My brother disappeared 6 years ago when I was a teenager, and he was 22. He was a prodigy, a scientist. This was not like him. He wrote me a letter 1 year and 2 months before disappearing. He was noticing strange changes about himself, almost as though he wasn't in control. During our fight, this symbol was written or carved onto his neck," she landed her pointed index onto the paper, "the same symbol my brother told me had been on his body before disappearing." The circle with an X through it glared at (Y/n) inexplicably, as if it were taunting her relentlessly.

Art saw the determination in (Y/n)'s eyes as she glared back at the paper, knowing that she wanted to catch the psychopath more than anyone could imagine. Unfolding his arms and standing up, the man held his right hand out to shake, before the woman stood up straight and gripped his hand tightly. "I believe you. Where do we start?" The night was long as the full moon shone bright, illuminating the mysteries that were undiscovered by the investigator.