Addictive (Jeff the Killer)

Salvation

Alise grunted, her eyes opening sluggishly. The light streaming in from the window burned, making tears well in the corners of her eyes. She hissed, blinking them away and letting her eyes adjust. She groaned.

“What time is it?” she muttered to herself, trying to force her body off the couch. Her feet came into contact with something solid when she went to move her legs out of her scrunched position. Her eyes flickered to the end of the couch, and what she saw there made her leap to her feet.

Jeff was sitting, just as he was the night before, but he seemed to be resting. His eyes were still open—typical—but they looked glazed over. Crawling closer, she bumped him with a toe gently. He shifted, but his eyes didn’t lose their glassy sheen. Taking the chance, Alise stood up quickly. She made her way silently to the kitchen and grabbed a knife. Am I really going to do this? She asked herself.

Flashes of the horror of the night he almost killed her and remembering the closeness they shared in the janitor’s closet, she figured she had no choice. Of course, she had never killed anyone before, so she didn’t quite know how to go about it. She stood before him, biting her lower lip and wincing. Would she have to… stab him in the chest?

“If you’re planning on killing me,” his voice broke her train of thought, and she jumped back. “You might want to go for the throat. I doubt you’re strong enough to force that knife through my chest or muscle,” he mused, barely even looking at her. Alise almost took a second step back, but she quickly regained her composure and forced her body on top of his, pressing the sharp edge of the blade against his throat.

“Don’t patronize me,” she hissed. She was almost shaking with rage and fear by that point; if he was awake, she’d have to do this quickly. Alise doubted he thought she would actually do it, and that drove her even more to slide the knife into his flesh.

“I’m not,” he smirked, one hand lazily moving to the side of her face. She twitched away, but he caught a strand of her hair and flipped it between his fingers. “Just giving advice, kitten,” he murmured, tugging the strand closer to his face, forcing her head to jerk towards him. She pressed harder on the knife. His voice had a natural husk to it, making her shiver.

She slid the knife slightly to the side, watching as a trail of red followed. It wasn’t enough to kill him, not even significantly harm him. Jeff smirked, tangling his fingers in her hair. “You can’t do it,” he chuckled. Alise made the mistake of looking in his eyes. Almost immediately, she got lost looking in them. She searched for any sign of humanity in those dark eyes, and she found nothing. He leaned closer to her, making the knife cut deeper. She unconsciously let up on the pressure.

“You’re not like me,” he breathed in her ear, making her shudder.

What am I doing? She thought suddenly. Alise dropped the knife, forcing her hands on his chest and shoving off. Her back hit the coffee table brutally, and pain lanced up her sides. She yelped, falling on her hands and knees. Jeff was laughing above her.

“You’re so easy,” he cackled. She hissed, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. Why couldn’t I do it? Why?

She stood, brushing the water away from her eyes with a sleeve, and quickly stalked to the kitchen. She had to get away from him for a while. She opted to go for a walk. Grabbing her apartment keys, she vaguely registered that Jeff was following her before shutting and locking her door. He raised an eyebrow, stalking behind her. “Go away,” she growled.

“Nope,” he smirked, popping the ‘p’.  Anna whirled on him.

“You inconsiderate ass!” she cried, slamming her palms into his chest. His eyes widened slightly, a little surprised by her outburst.  “Go! Go! Go!” she continued to scream and fight even as he grabbed her wrists roughly. He glared over her head at a person who stopped to stare, and they quickly hurried off.