The Irony of it all (Jeff the killer) (In edit)

Chapter 18

>sorry for no updates :C My computer wouldn’t save, and every time I tried to write, it would delete, I’ve written this chapter at least 20 times…

Sorry its short, I was in a rush to update.

Sorry.

Oh, this chapter is dedicated to EmoSilentScreams

~Irony out~<

-BRITTANY’S POV- >Just in case you don’t know who Brittany is, she’s the girl who beat Irony half to death in chapter 7 (I think) with Ethan and Faith (Faith is dead.)<

I ran as fast as I could, the cold air brushing against my face.

I replayed what had just happed over in my head.

*Flashback*

“Oh Jakey, I wove you.” My boyfriend and I sat on the picnic table at the park. It was dark out, and the perfect time to be alone with him. I twirled my perfect blonde locks, fluttering my eyelashes, and giggling.

Jake smiled at me, like the little rebel he was, and pulled me onto his lap. I bit my lip, and brought my fingers to his button-up shirt, slowly unbuttoning his shirt.

“Awe, how cute. Jeff look, the little whore woves Jakey.” I looked over, and saw two people, a man and a woman, hiding in the shadows, the woman spoke in a mocking tone. I slid off Jakes lap, and we both got up.

“Who the hell are you?” Jake got up, and pulled out a small hand gun.

I smiled, knowing I was protected.

“Jake, is it?” The man spoke, in a deep, raspy voice, that sent shivers down my spine. “Do you really think that can protect you?”

The man chuckled to himself, pulling down his hoody hood.

My eyes widened when I saw his… face.

His smile…

It was horrifying. “What the hell are you?!” Jakes shouted, pointing the gun at the man.

Before I knew it, the gun was on the floor and Jake was screaming from the pain in his newly twisted arm. I was too busy watching the man drive his large knife to jakes thigh to notice that the girl was walking towards me.

She pulled her hood down, and smiled innocently at me. I recognized the unnaturally green eyes, the soft brown hair that reached mid-back, and the average tanish-pale skin. What I didn’t recognize, was the scar on her eye.

“I-Irony?” I stuttered. “What h-happened t-to your eye?”

Her smile grew into a more sinister one, as she began to laugh, pulling a knife out, that’s was about the size of the man’s knife.

Then she stopped, and looked at me intensely, with anger, before whispering. “Run.”

That’s when I turned and ran as fast as possible.

-IRONYS POV-

I laughed, running after Brittany, with knife in hand. I knew exactly where she was. I saw her dive behind an old red pickup truck, and I stopped running, because I didn’t want her to her my footsteps.

Quietly, I walked over to the pickup, and walked over to her, where she was breathing heavily, and didn’t even notice my presence. I could hear her whispering to herself over and over “Oh my god, oh my god! This can’t happen, this cant fucking happen to me!”

I laughed. She turned over to me and screamed, backing away.

“P-Please don’t! I promise I will never try to hurt you!”

I pressed my figure to her chattering red lips. “Shhhh, it will be over soon.”

Tears rimmed her eyes, and I couldn’t help but feel a small amount of sympathy for her. She could be me, and I could be Jeff.  >DON’T THINK SEXUALLY, SHE MEANS JEFF COULD HAVE KILLED HER. YOU HAVE DIRTY MINDS, STOP.<

I shrugged off the thought, and ignored the pleading, as I shoved the knife into her side, she screamed in pain, making me feel better, but I was still unable to shrug off that feeling. I focused onto what I was doing, her pale blue eyes were beautifully showing how much pain she was in.

I laughed, and pushed my blade deeper, turning it slowly. She attempted to push me away, but she was too weak.

 Far too weak.

I took the blade out of her side; and pushed it once into her shoulder, because I loved her pain.  

It was beautiful.

She was close to death, when I pulled away, and looked into her eyes.

I sat next to her, and spoke.“It’s ironic, really.” I let out a small chuckle, with a single tear streaming down my bloody face. “Years of your torture and abuse from you, and this happens. You felt nothing whenever you hurt me, why do I feel sympathy for you? I loved the feeling of doing this to you, but afterwards I regret it, why?”

She looked at me, with hate in her pale blue eyes, ovoiously to weak to say anything.

She didn’t need to say anything.

I suddenly felt angry. I jabbed my knife into her eyes.

She didn’t deserve them.