A Little Warmth (Jeff the Killer x Reader) short story

chapter five

Leave it to a bustling crowd at an outdoor flea market in the August heat to remind you why you rarely set foot out of your home. The only reason a hermit like you stepped out of your cave was to make a quick run for antique art supplies which were exclusive to being sold by old hags hoping to get rid of it not knowing its actual worth.

With your materials secure in your hand, you pushed through the multitude of sweaty people bargaining. The blazing sun bore down with its unbearable heat, and the crowd of people pushing up against your sticky body did not help with your frustration. You were desperate to get out of here and back into the comfort of your apartment enjoying the benefits of owning AC. Not watching where you were going you were thrown forward, accidentally knocking into another woman.

Your face flushed in embarrassment as you lifted your head to apologize.

"Oh, I am so sorry-" The moment you made eye contact with her you were awestruck. She had the most beautiful winter blue eyes, you were mesmerized. Staring into her eyes was like looking at two icy crystals that you could have stared into for eternity.

The sky was an orange-glowing color as the sun set, the sun's last rays of light shining through your curtains casting warmth around the room. Your mind was consumed by those captivating eyes, they sparkled with some kind of unique ethereal beauty. There was a saying that eyes are the window to the soul, if her eyes were bright then so would her soul—an intense desire to recreate them burned in you. You had sat in your apartment for hours, attempting to recreate them, but it wasn't enough mixing and blending colors. Nothing came close to seeing them in person.

A scratching noise coming from your balcony caught your attention. When you looked over you saw a familiar shadow looming over the door handle, it slowly turned and the door opened. The shadow slowly slipped inside. As the shadow passed by a window, a streak of light illuminated his face. The scar on his lips was enough for you to know it was just Jeff.

It had only been a few days since the confrontation, you figured he would still be upset at you. What you didn't know was what had been going on in his head the past few days. Jeff had taken notice of your reaction when confronted with the delicate subject. He'd always known you as a bold and self-assured person. But the way you crumbled under him, your confidence shattering into pieces. Your lips trembled, your hands shaking, apprehension clear in your eyes. This was a first for him; seeing you so vulnerable.

His expression remained vacant, empty, as he drew closer. You sensed a strange air about him; his steps were slow and tentative, his head hanging low. Your gaze dropped to his hands, something was in his grasp.

You froze as he reached you, his frame hunched as his outstretched hand offered you the cloth.

You nervously cleared your throat.

"What's this?" Your voice faltered slightly, a little shaky.

Jeff's tongue failed to form words, he felt his mouth go dry. Instead of responding, he gestured for you to take it. Your trembling hands were noticeable as you carefully unwrapped the folded cloth. Beneath the cloth, you could make out the shape of a round item, two small round items. Peeling back the cloth, you stared in awe at two lifeless blue orbs. The eyes that you had become captivated with at the market, now stared back up at you, the iris had become clouded. They had lost their liveliness, now they were pale and empty.

Blinking, you stare, taking in the gruesome gift. Jeff was closely watching your reaction, waiting for a response from you. He was the type to not express his emotions, at all. He had erased emotions like sympathy, unable to feel remorse or guilt for his wrongdoings. You were the only person he felt no anger or hatred towards. He had spent so long erasing any trace of fondness for you, and he thought he had succeeded. Even when he was resentful about your departure from his life, seeing you again, he knew he couldn't stay away from you for long. He might have worked on erasing his feelings, but he still clung to the faint memory of you.

Slowly, he raised his eyes to meet yours. Knowing this was out of character for him, you accepted the gift, not wanting to offend him. Was this his way of apologizing? There was more sentiment behind the gift, Jeff himself knew this, especially since it was for you, the only person he had gone through great pains to forget.

Keeping his voice low Jeff quietly spoke, "I tried my best to keep them fresh and intact. There might be a few scratches on the cornea but other than that-"

Interjecting, you questioned him."How did you get these?" It was too much of a coincidence for him to gift you the exact pair of eyes you had become entranced by. Unless he somehow knew...

"Oh you know, I just used a thin knife to carve out the eye." Jeff went on with the details. "It's incredibly difficult you know, the eye is like jelly. I had to be careful to not accidentally squish it-"

"No. These specific eyes. Did you know I wanted them?" The idea that Jeff had been watching you, maybe he had seen what happened that day.

His eyes watched you with a sense of melancholy, nostalgia even. From the moment he met you, he was curious about you. He had paid attention to your behavior, the things you were interested in, and all your trivial little habits. You failed to realize how deep of an impact you had on him.

Even he had recently just realized it.

Seeing how your creativity stirred and came together to create beautiful paintings from pain, he wanted nothing more than to be the cause of your motivation.

"I'm the only evil thing in this world"

Many times he had stared into his reflection in the mirror, no longer recognizing the monster he had become.

"Maybe I have turned into a monster"

The cause of his imperfections, of his dysphoria was from pain inflicted on him by other people. People who were supposed to protect, and influence his life.

"My body must have gone crazy"

"What do I do? I can't stop it"

He had killed the people who had started the fire of despair in his life, but this had only fueled the flames for him to lose all sense of morality. He became obsessed with the feeling of extracting life, the satisfaction he felt when he knew he was the reason his victims had ceased to exist.

"Are you my savior who found me alone?"

He had gone rampant, having no other "justifiable" reason to continue like this.

"Are your wings created from the same pain as mine?"

He had found you, someone who understood him.

"Am I the other half of you?"

You were complete opposites, opposites who mirrored each other. Behavior and personality-wise, you two were different. But you two got along so well and became intertwined.

"I'm not in pain anymore, you became my crown"

Like a saving grace, you had become his crown. Saving him from losing himself to misery. Your macabre paintings captured the beauty of dark things. Through you, he learned to see himself not as a monstrous being, but as something that had the potential to be perceived as beautiful.