Knife Play (Jeff The Killer)

X

"Rooming with Jeff?" I echo back to Toby as he leads me through winding, seemingly never ending, corridors

Toby's eyes crinkled, indicating he was grinning beneath his mask "There was no other vacancies"

I shake my head "This place is huge, and you're telling me there's not even a cupboard that I could've stayed in?"

He shrugged "We have a lot of creepy pastas coming in and out all the time, they all have designated rooms for when they want to stay"

"So really this is just a foster home for fucked up kids?" I ask

"Sort of," Toby stops in front of a brown door which is seemingly well kept. Although, in places, the paint was peeling still and there were a few marks, compared to the rest of the corridor it was an improvement "this is your room"

"It's not exactly my room if Jeff already owns it" I raise my eyebrows as he gestures for me to open it. I push the door open and peer inside, curiosity overtaking me. Although not as horrifying as I expected, it certainly isn't home sweet home.

Scratches have torn off the red paint that once covered the walls, now just leaving the grey brick beneath exposed. There were some drawings along with the scratches, but they don't seem to symbolise much expect frustration. There's one bed on the left side on the room and another in the corner on the right. I can already guess which one is Jeff's; the unmade, mess of a bed which looks as if it hasn't been washed in the last decade. And the knife that is laying on it is a bit of a give away.

Toby confirms my thoughts as he gestures to the second bed in the corner.

"That's yours"

I nod and walk over to it, plopping down on it.

"I'll leave you to get settled" Toby pauses "oh and if Jeff tries to stab you in the night- try to die quietly" he chuckles and waves before turning and exiting the room, closing the door behind him.

I never liked to be alone in my old life. I found it easier to be with people and listen to their mindless chatter than listen to my own thoughts. My own thoughts were dangerous. And they still are.

I stare down at my own bed, it's pretty standard, a black bed frame with a mattress and white sheets. I probably could've done a better job of decorating but I suppose beggars can't be choosers.

I lie down on the bed, the pillow being surprisingly soft. Other than having a few blood stains the bed is rather comforting. So comforting that my eyes begin to close and the business of my mind fades to black.

***

Meanwhile

Toby glances at me as he walks into the room "Stop sulking, Jeff. Slender will sew your lips into a smile like he did last time"

"That was some Coraline shit, man..." Ben comments, scratching his head before putting his hat back on and continuing with his game

I grimace at the memory. It was rather unpleasant having stitches on my mouth. And not being able to talk, that was the worst part. Slender got me to do all kinds of jobs he knew I'd never do willingly. Son of a bitch. Although everyone found it rather ironic that he chose the guy who carved a smile into his face to stitch up into another one. Sally wouldn't talk to me for that entire week, she said it looked I looked too happy.

I frown and continue to sulk.

That girl is dangerous. Sure she might understand me, or at least not be afraid of me but that's only because she's just as fucked up as we are. She's nothing special and they need to realise that. And she needs to get out of my fucking room.

I growl and grab my knife. I need to get out of this house. I need to stop smelling her bubblegum scent wherever I go in here.

"I'm going out to do a job" I can barely choke out the words. That bubblegum scent is intoxicating

Toby raises his eyebrow in amusement. That's the only reason he's nice to her. To get back at me.

"Oh? When will you be back?" He asks

"Later" I spit. "Tell slender I'll be back tonight"

"Yes, sir" Toby chuckles "try not to let her distract you"

"Fuck off"

***

The door slams and suddenly I'm awake again. My eyes don't open immediately and I keep them shut, something tells me I don't want to see what's going on behind my eyes.

I steady my breathing and try to get my chest to rise and fall convincingly, as if I'm asleep when a shuffle alerts me that someone is standing over my bed. Shallow breaths are heart from beside me and a cold, leathery hand cups my face.

"You're so damn..." A raspy voice. Jeff's. That's who it is. I think he noticed my breath catch in my throat as his hand quickly withdrawals from my face "annoying" he quickly says, hatred suddenly replaced with the tired, content voice that was there before. He takes three strides over to his bed (I counted) and then the creaking of his bed is heard as he gets onto it.

I let my eyes open and look over at him, his white jumper is stained with fresh blood and he's fiddling with his knife, watching the light of the moonlight catch on the metal.

I bite my lip and wonder if I should try and make conversation. It's probably best not to, he did just call me annoying and the last thing he probably wants is to make conversation. So instead I roll over into my side and glance at the red wall that's before me.

"Goodnight, Jeff" I murmur. I'm not even sure he heard me for a few moments, but then a begrudged "Go to sleep" comes from his bed and I smile slightly. I shouldn't feel so accomplished that he just talked to me without sounding malicious but I do.

I close my eyes once again, ready to sleep until morning comes when it hits me; finally.

I'm in the goddamn creepypasta mansion.

***
I'm sorry this took so long to come out lol I'm trash <3