Beautiful Disaster (Jeff the Killer) [On Hiatus]

8*~

Everything is in Salem's point of view unless otherwise stated.~~~~~AND THIS LITTLE SYMBOL~~~~~~~MEANS~~~~~~TRIGGER WARNING~~~~~ IT'S IN THE DESCRIPTION OF THE STORY. YOU'VE (kinda sorta) BEEN WARNED

Keep it creepy.

-smile.

*

Jeff and I immediately turn to the door, where Slender still stands with his oddly bare, paper-white head nearly touching the ceiling. His head is turned to me, and I nod with what might be a mildly impatient look on my face, urging him to go on.
     He appears to glance at Jeff, whom I see shift slightly out of the corner of my eye. Slender nods before looking back to me.
"Salem, your blood shows traces of magic, that, ironically enough, traces back to one of the original Salem witches. There were three sisters: Elizabeth, Victoria, and Helena. Your mother was Helena. I gathered from the blood that she passed away quite a few years back. Most of this is most likely news to you, and I apologize if you hadn't had any idea about it, and had to find out this way."
   I think, to Slender only, Is it at all possible to rid my body of the magic?
     He sighs deeply. "There is one way, I suppose; to bleed it out. But there is only one record of it being successful, as of January ninth of 2016." I nod and stand up quickly, my legs shaking as I exit the room. My footfalls drown out the thudding of my heartbeat in my chest.
  I make my way to my room, the steps occasionally creaking underneath my weight. I come to my door, opening it just enough to slip though, then slamming it closed behind me. I quickly walk to the bathroom that's connected to my room, but I don't make it past the doorway without beginning to stare angrily into my reflection's crimson eyes.
  I grab my phone off of the bed, putting "The Diary Of Jane" by Breaking Benjamin on loop at full volume. I set it on the bedside table and walk back into the bathroom.
     I sit on the floor and pull my slightly dulled blade out from its spot in my drawer. Without a moment's hesitation, I dig the blade into the scarred, mutilated mess of skin that is my forearm. I repeat this process, going over a few of them multiple times until I have to go through blood to make them any deeper.
  Suddenly, I hear my door close, and a voice that isn't familiar to me sounds out. I quickly stand, shoving my blade back into the drawer and cutting my hand in the process and pulling the rug over to cover the blood. Without realizing my hand is bleeding, I place it on the counter as I reach over to grab a towel. Before I do, I see Eyeless Jack's reflection in the mirror. His masked face is turned to my arm, still bleeding and forming a dark puddle on the counter.
   "I-I uh... Was wondering if you knew how to cook a kidney without the inside getting hard..." He speaks quietly. I wrap my arm to stop the dripping before I turn to him and hold up my index finger. He nods and walks to my bed, sitting down as I close the bathroom door to clean up a bit before making Jack his... Did he just say kidney and it slipped the fuck past me? God damn, Salem, get your shit together.
A few moments later, my arm is wrapped up, my bracelets are on the bathroom counter--some are soaking in water in the sink to get the blood off--and I step out into the room. I walk to my dresser, pulling out a sweatshirt. I turn to see Jack looking at me. I raise an eyebrow at him, moving my finger in a circle to tell him to turn around while I change my shirt. He does so, picking up The Amazing Book Is Not On Fire from my bedside table. He flips through it as I switch shirts, throwing the dirty one into the hamper. Once the oversized sweatshirt is on, I drum my fingers on my dresser. Jack turns around and I begin to walk down to the kitchen, and he follows.
     I pull out a nonstick pan from the cabinet, as well as a plate and a plastic spatula. I look to Jack and grab the kidney that he held out to me. He tells me, "Just leave it bloody, it's best that way." I nod and just drop it straight into the pan.
     I push it around for a bit, rolling it around occasionally. Eventually, I assume it's done, so I plop it onto a plate. It lands with a slightly disturbing squish, and I hand it to Jack. BEN walks in as I'm washing up the pan.
   "I thought you ate them raw," he says to Jack--who, I should mention, is practically inhaling the kidney--with a confused expression on his face.
Jack mumbles something along the lines of, "Iyuhm trihying suhmthn defrontuh." I finish with the dishes in the sink and head up to my room. As I pass by the second floor, I decide to stop by Jeff's room.
  I knock three times, and almost immediately I hear Jeff's deep, raspy voice call out, "Who is it?" When I don't answer, he opens the door and looks straight over my head. God damn, I'm short compared to him. He looks down after a moment and steps back, reluctantly opening his door for me. As soon as I'm out of the way, he closes the door and walks to the corner of the room where he appears to be sharpening knives, all varying in size.
  While he's not looking, I move to adjust the gauze to stop it from cutting off the circulation in my hand. The sound of stone on metal stops suddenly, and I look up to see Jeff staring at me. His eyes hold multiple emotions, and confusion is among them.
  "Why do you do it?" He asks. The single question that I had hoped he wouldn't ask rings through the quiet room.
     After a moment, all I do is look up at him and shrug my shoulders. As he opens his mouth to speak, the large beast of a dog comes barreling in, crashing the door down onto the floor, and pulling the hinges out with it. BEN trips over the door, coming down on top of the dog.
   "God fucking dammit, BEN. This is the fourth time this had happened. You're explaining to Slenderman why this door is broken again." Jeff stands, still holding the now sharpened knife. BEN and Smile stand up and book it simultaneously, BEN running into the doorframe and mumbling an incoherent curse word.
     Jeff drops the knife on the bed next to me and walks up to the door. He gets his fingers underneath the edge, his hair moving to cloak his face.
Dat ass. I mentally slap myself. I shake my head and stand up, moving to help Jeff with the door.
"No, no, it's fine. Just go sit down or something. I dunno, do some girl shit." He says, not even struggling as he puts the door back up into the door frame, backing away slowly to ensure that it won't fall. I hadn't moved from my spot, and Jeff looks down at me as he stands up straight. I keep staring up at him, unaware of how creepy it may be.
"You better not be trying to pull off any witchy voodoo shit on me." He appears to be holding back a smirk, and I can't help but to smile a bit. I cover my mouth and turn around as I walk back to sit down on the bed. I pick up the knife, making brief eye contact with Jeff as I look past him and at a target with various holes in it. Beneath the holes is a picture of some chick with a mask and long black hair, though not quite as long as mine. Without blinking, I throw the knife at the target and hit the black-haired girl in the eye.
"Well, shit." Jeff looks to me, a surprised look in his eyes. "What else have you got hidden up your sleeve?" On instinct, I pull my sleeves down and bunch the cuffs up in my small hands. He takes a few steps towards me, reaching down and gently taking hold of my hand, bringing it up slightly and pushing my sleeve above my elbow. There's no red on the gauze, which I suppose is a good thing.
     Jeff glances up at me before beginning to slowly unwrap the gauze. I try to pull my hand back but Jeff stops me.
"It's alright. Just trust me."
I let my arm go almost completely limp in his hands as he reveals my entire forearm, letting the gauze fall to the floor. The cuts are a deep red, the edges around each one raised, some higher than others. After a few long moments of silence, he leans his head down and lifts my arm a small amount more. He seems to think for a second. Suddenly, a pair of somehow soft, yet rough lips are against my arm, moving from one cut to the next. I feel my cheeks turn a light shade of pink as he picks up the gauze and wraps it around my arm again, then placing my arm back by my side.

*Jeff's Point Of View*

I look back down at her, into her beautiful crimson eyes. Oh god. How long have I been staring? Am I creeping her out?
lookawaylookawaylookawaylookawaylookawaylookawaylookaway
I decide to look at what she's wearing. Black skinny jeans, socks with the Heath Ledger joker on them--no shoes--and a tattered and torn old-looking sweatshirt with what appears to have once been a band logo of sorts on it at one point. Without realizing it, I head into my closet and begin looking through my sweatshirts.
Blood-stained, blood-stained, blood-stained...
    After a few moments of rummaging through my sweatshirts, I find a large all-black one that's already pretty big on me. I yank it off of the hanger and walk out of the closet, awkwardly holding it out to Salem. Her dark eyebrows knit together in confusion as she reaches up to grab it.
    She looks up to me with a look on her face that almost begs for an explanation. "I figured you could use a sweatshirt that wasn't torn in nearly every single spot." A very small, almost unnoticeable smile graces her features. A thankful smile.
    God dammit, what's happening to me? Have I gone soft? Have I lost my touch? I'm supposed to hate everyone and everything. That's how shit works. What ever ha--
    My train of of thought is sent off the rails as I realize that she's putting my sweatshirt on over her old one, and I quickly turn around as she pulls off the old one from underneath it. She pokes my lower back and I turn back around.
    Jesus fucking Christ she's so adorable. The sweatshirt goes down to her goddamn knees. Oh, God, what's happening to me?
    To distract myself, I walk to the target and pretend not to struggle as I pull the knife out of Jane's eye. She really chucked it, didn't she? I get it out after a short moment and place it gently back in the case, right between my first knife and my third.
    Suddenly, the door crashes down after only half of a knock sounds. Slender stands behind it, staring down at the door and sending very confused vibes.
   "BEN?" He asks, his left hand still raised in the air. I nod. "Never mind, then. I'll repair the door, you can sleep in a different room tonight." With that, he walks away.
    I look to Salem. "Can I crash in your room, then?" She nods slightly and walks out of the room. My eyes follow her for a moment, then I realize that the rest of me probably should as well.
    I get to her room and she's already laying in bed, having already changed into her pajama pants. She still wears the sweatshirt, and she's plugging in her phone. I lay myself down on the opposite side of the bed, staring at the ceiling. I zone out for a bit, and a few minutes--I think--later, the pokes my shoulder. I turn my head to look at her and she waves. Her way of saying goodnight I guess. I smile slightly--an actual smile.
  "Goodnight, Salem." She turns off the light, and eventually her breathing evens out and I can hear it if I listen closely enough. And suddenly, it hits me.
    God dammit, Jeff. You've fallen for the girl.