se·cret
/ˈsēkrət/
adjective
not known or seen or not meant to be known or seen by others.
noun
something that is kept or meant to be kept unknown or unseen by others.
de·sire
/dəˈzī(ə)r/
noun
a strong feeling of wanting to have something or wishing...
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Third POV
Jeff lost track of time at this point, but he can tell the month is almost over. This time, he followed Toby's warning. He stopped shouting at the camera, stopped his mindless fits of laughter, and reframed from attacking anyone that tried to give him food. However, the killer couldn't stop throwing himself at the cushion walls as a form of entertainment. He found it hilarious how no matter how much force he puts into it he'd bounce right off- with no injuries.
His black eye and bust lip as healed as well as his bruised cheek, thanks to Jack's aid. But because of his antics, Jeff has been moved to a chair and strapped to it with leather belts. To say that made things much harder would be a understatement. Maybe it's because normally the killer wouldn't care how long he'd be force to spend in the white room, but now he has someone he desperately needs to get back too.
At this thought, the door to the white room opens. There's stands hoodie, without his cloth mask which is odd. His stoic eyes looks at the camera then at Jeff. He grumbles as he quickly goes to Jeff and undo his restraints, much to Jeff's surprise.
"Its normally the faceless fucker doing this after some drain out speech on of I learned my lesson." He said mockingly.
Hoodie doesn't answer, making the killer raise a brow. "Brian. Why are you doing this? Any idea how much trouble you'll be in with that octopus?"
