Creepypasta One-Shots

Night Shift (Jeff x OC)

Content Warnings
• I don't think I have any warnings for this one. It should be pretty fluffy.
Word Count: 2300+
Summary: Okay, so to clarify, yes this is the same girl from the first story in this book. I've decided to move some things around and have her get with Jeff instead. Her inner turmoil is pretty much the same, except now she's in New Jersey and not Maine.
Jeff does his grocery shopping late on Friday nights. He's taken a liking to the single cashier that works those hours. When she inquires about his supposed illness, he's forced to reveal his identity. Things go much better than expected.

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Jeff's life was very, very structured. He had a steady job as the night janitor at the local high school, and tended to revolve his weekly schedule around the hours he worked. Of course, he ended up sleeping most of the day, and needed to find time to run all his big boy errands after dark. There was only one grocery store within miles of his house that was open late enough for him to shop, and so this was the very same grocery store he drove his beat up old sedan to every Friday night.

He also tended not to like to be out during the day, anyways, regardless of his work schedule mandating he be nocturnal. Even with a surgical mask on, people tended to notice his... more unusual features. He looked perfectly normal from the neck down, but unfortunately, his face was something he tried his best to hide. The way the taut pale skin of his face pulled at the dark rims around his lidless eyes gave him a very intense expression, even when his mouth was covered. When his mouth wasn't covered, well... he wasn't a stranger to being recognized.

ARC's public file on him was first made when he was a teenager, and was left to become very outdated. Up at the top of the webpage, typed out in a bold font, was the title he'd since regretted giving himself ever since he wrote that terribly composed manifesto.

Jeff the Killer.

Oh, how he hated that's all anyone ever saw him as. In reality, he hadn't ever actually succeeded in killing anyone. Not his parents, not his bullies, and not his brother, Liu. His ARC file states this clearly, but those who look up these files tend to only be looking for the action, not the resolution.

Jeff didn't succeed in running away. He got picked up by the cops the day after, was deemed mentally unfit for trial, and was hauled off to the first mental hospital that'd take him. He filtered in and out of various rehab centers for the remainder of his teenage years, and eventually came to settle down in the town of Leighville, New Jersey. This was the very town he'd lived in ever since.

The sun always set much sooner later in the year, so it was pitch black outside on this particular November evening. Thanksgiving break had just begun, so he'd have a week off of work that he wasn't quite sure what to do with. Still, it was 9:00 PM on a Friday, which meant it was time to grocery shop.

He kept his gaze trained on the ground as he passed through the automatic sliding doors, into the blindingly bright grocery store he'd come to be so familiar with. Already, his eyes were burning, but he wanted to get into an aisle before whipping out the eyedrops.
He shot a glance over to the checkout stations, seeing only one cashier working. It was a girl he'd come to recognize, even from afar he was struck by the vibrant deep red hue of her braided hair. Before she could notice him looking, though, he ducked into the first aisle he could and fumbled through his hoodie pocket to retrieve a little squirt bottle of saline solution. He tilted his head back, wishing he could squint at the fluorescent lights that lit the store, and thankfully was able to wet his eyes without much delay.

Honestly, he should start wearing sunglasses when he came here. The harsh white light made his head feel like it was gonna explode.

As part of his overly structured life, he generally bought the same set of items from the store every week. Hot dogs, boxed mac n' cheese, anything he could shove in a microwave, and the various drinks he liked. He also made sure to pick up whatever fresh meat was cheap, as his... dog... was a picky eater, and needed to be bargained with.