Hopeless.
That's the only word I can use to describe how I'm feeling. Even then the word doesn't feel intense enough to properly explain the torment I'm experiencing. I feel weak and helpless. My body aches as I'm dragged through the woods by the hood of my sweatshirt.
I've been trying to stay conscious since we entered the woods. Jeff tied more random pieces of cloth to me leg to stop the bleeding, telling me it would "be a shame" if I died.
I don't understand it. He's going to kill me, so why not just get it over with? Why draw it out like this? Is it really that fun to watch one person suffer? And it has to be me because I'm the last person alive that saw what happened to him all those years ago, according to the killer himself. All I really know about what's going on is that I don't have anywhere to go. My family is dead, the cops couldn't protect me, and Jeff even found a way to get into a tightly guarded hospital just to leave a knife on my bed.
I regret what I said at that house. I was desperate to save that kid. I couldn't watch someone else die because of me. If I'm what he wants, then I'll have to cave until I can either find a way to get away from him for good or kill him, which is the very last resort. I have no clue what he wants from me or what's going to happen when we reach our destination, so I'm preparing for the worst. This freak said he wants to watch me suffer. I won't give him a show though. I know what he wants, but I won't give it to him. I can't show him that I'm scared or make him think I'm going to submit to him. If I don't entertain him, I'll die.
And that's the dilemma.
If I don't entertain him, he'll get bored of me and kill me. If I submit to him, he'll get bored of me and kill me. It's a lose lose situation, and I feel hopeless.
Snap
My eyes dart to the the source of the abrupt sound, which came from Jeff's fingers that are right in front of my face.
"Don't be zoning out on me, if you die now I'll have wasted my time and energy dragging you all the way out here."
I stay silent and glare at him, to which he scoffs and continues dragging me through the woods. After another few minutes, his pace begins to slow.
"Home sweet home."
As he jerks me up to my feet, I see a small cabin a few yards out. It's extremely run down and old, and it looks like a small gust of wind could knock it over. It's surrounded by a rather big clearing which is full of what looks like a training ground. Ropes, ladders, jumps, and straw-filled dummies are strewn along the property. I guess even seasoned killers need practice.
The overall vibe of the area is the most unsettling part about it.
It's quiet here, too quiet. The sounds you'd expect to hear near a city are nowhere to be found. The only things to be heard are the distant sounds of crows cawing and the rustling of dead leaves in the wind. I know we're far from people, and I couldn't try to escape if I wanted to due to my injuries.
"What, does it make you nervous?" Jeff inquires playfully as he fiddles with my hair.
"I can assure you that where I'll be storing you will be much, much worse."
A smirk tugs at his lips as he swings the front door open, which lets out a loud squeak that could've been right out of a horror film.
The inside of the cabin doesn't look much better than the outside. It's rather small. The front door opens right into a living room area to the right, and a kitchen to the left. There's a short hallway that looks like it leads to a bedroom and a bathroom. The interior looks like it's been rotting away since the 60s, with a few hints of modern appliances and furniture too. Most of the items in the house, however, look like they've been here for decades. Garbage litters the floor and the cobwebs on the ceiling are reminiscent to what you might find decorating a house on Halloween.
He tugs me over to a door that I had overlooked in the kitchen. It didn't match the look of the rest of the house. While all the others doors were made out of old, deteriorating wood, this one was made metal. It was still significantly damaged and dented, but it still looked far newer than the other doors of the house. This was a recent addition.
"Where does that go to?" The worried tone in my voice seems to amuse him, letting a low chuckle in response to my question.
"I don't know where you were expecting me to keep you. A beautiful room fit for a princess? You're my toy, do you know where those go?"
"I'm not a t-" he cuts off my protest with a hand over my mouth, leaning down and getting uncomfortably close.
"They go in dark corners and cramped boxes, left to deteriorate after their owners stop enjoying them," he whispers, "And once I'm done using you, I'll leave you to do the same. Full of cuts, bruises and scars, bleeding out alone on a cold floor until you die."
His mouth curves up into a sick smile as he removes his hand from my mouth. I'm too shocked and afraid to move, even when he pulls out his knife and prods me towards the foreboding entrance to what I assumed was going to be my living hell.
"
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A/N - I know, I know. Too long on an update. Trying to crank out at least 2 more by the end of December/beginning of January. Not gonna lie, I forgot this existed for a bit. I came back and were at 600 views, I can't believe it lmao.
I'll start trying to update more consistently. Just trying to figure out what I want for the story. That being said, thank you guys so much for the support! I'm glad people are liking it :)
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Lovely (A Jeff the Killer Fanfiction)
Fanfiction"Who the fuck do you think you are, sweetheart?" He chuckles and brings his hand up to my face, wiping a tear away from my right eye. He grabs my chin and wraps his fingers around my jaw, forcing me to look up at the ceiling as he brings his lips to...
