Charity Case (Creepypasta/Jeff the Killer Love Story)

Chapter 22

I walked back to where Jeff was waiting for me and waved the plastic bag I held. "I didn't get caught this time!" I grinned.

We had left Carrington after visiting the library and finding a new victim. We made sure not to mention the name of the victim, but we did talk about the town, Kenyon, which was where we were. We planned to go to the library the next day and pretend we found him then since Jeff really needed some sleep. As soon as it turned to night, I ventured into Kenyon and found a store with a drowsy clerk and bought the NyQuil.

I took the bottle out of the bag and hid it under some leaves. Jeff stood up reluctantly and asked, "Is this really going to work?"

"I have no clue," I shrugged, taking the plastic seal off the bottle. "I mean, it's used to help you sleep, right? It may work. On the other hand, you don't have the flu or a cold, so maybe not."

"That doesn't make me feel good," he frowned.

"It's just medicine," I assured him, squinting to read the small print. "It says a dose of thirty milliliters is for adults. I don't know how much that is, so I'm going to have to eyeball it."

He rubbed his eyes and shook his head at me, "You don't make me confident about this at all."

I smirked as I unscrewed the cap, "I may have volunteered at a hospital, but I'm not a doctor."

"Of course, you did," he scoffed.

I began to pour the green liquid into the cap, and I watched his nose scrunch up. I stopped quickly and said, "I think this is the right amount. Or, you know, close to it. Well, drink up!" I handed him the cap, and he took it hesitantly.

He stared at it, "Is this going to taste bad?"

"I don't know. I was so sick that I couldn't taste it," I admitted. "It can't be that bad. I figured cherry would have been worse."

He sighed and looked at me like a sad little kid. Then, he put the cap to his mouth and tilted it. I watched his eyes widen, and I knew he was going to spit it out, so I tilted it even further to force him to swallow all of it. He dropped the cap on the ground and stuck out his tongue, turning away from me. He placed a hand on his stomach as he gagged. "That is fucking disgusting!" he shouted.

I picked up the top and apologized, "I'm sorry! I didn't know!"

He glared at me, "It tastes like black licorice! That's terrible! Why the hell would they flavor something that? Who the fuck thought that was a good idea? They should get fired!"

I closed the bottle and put it on the ground, "If it works, you'll get used to it eventually."

"No one can get used to that shit."