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Behind Doors {Jeff The Killer x Reader} 06
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Literature Text
You didn't get any sleep after what happened in the early hours of the morning.
It wasn't you exaggerating either, you hadn't actually managed to lay down and try to saviour whatever hours you had left until school curfew began and the sound of the nuns knocking on each and every door would wake you up. But it didn't. After you had been staring into the empty spot for what seemed like an eternity, you had been shaking and the paper you held in your hand had been crumpled and torn by your hands. The remnants of it left forgotten on the side of your bed --you contemplated burning it-- and you sitting on your bed, waiting until the hours went by.
And that they did.
You had trouble concentrating while you were getting ready, albeit slower than usual, your eyes were feeling extremely heavy and the sound of footsteps had been left as a track played on repeat on your brain, it was painful enough to cringe because of the room, it was so empty, so devoid of life and so, so quiet. You couldn't stand it anymore, even if you knew that your brain was just replying the scene --and his face, it was embedded in your eyes-- for the sake of it, you had changed, grabbed your bookbag and debated on whether or not to bring your sketchpad.
After what felt like an eternity, you didn't bring it with you. A part of you, a small one, knew why exactly you didn't want to bring it. You were actually scared of finding the old sketches of the killer --yes, it was a killer, it was him,-- you later realized, when walking down the stairs towards the main yard as you headed to the cafeteria, thankfully, alone. Your group of friends were either still getting ready for school hours or were already inside, eating.
You didn't exactly feel like eating, you also didn't feel like walking the main yard alone, even if there were a couple of other students that with their laughter and chatter managed to ease a little the cold-morning air, it helped as a sort of reminder that you weren't alone. That maybe the feeling of being watched was just your sleep deprived-mind. You hadn't been sleeping well despite your protests of claiming you had been getting actual, real, sleep. You always woke up, nightmares or no nightmares, and then sleep was hard to come by.
You ran a single hand through messy [hair colour] hair, sighing deeply. You'd have to remind yourself to go check up on the nice nurse and ask her for a stronger medicine, or pills, to help out with your problems.
When you finally reached the doors and extended your hand out to grab the handle and open it, your eyes flickered briefly to your wrist, feeling sort of at ease that the mark had long been gone. Then you actually began to question if it was just a trick of the eyes and light that managed to create the mark, it was a better thinking option than the one that seemed logical but at the same time it didn't, it actually managed to unsettle you to think that someone was inside your room.
"Um, we kinda need to go places and you're in the way." An unknown voice behind you snapped you out of your thoughts. With a small cringe, you looked behind your shoulder, meeting two girls who seemed rather un-amused by you blocking the way. Muttering a small apology, you took a step to the side and opened the door for them, ignoring how they seemed to stare at you before snickering and walking inside the main building.
You decided to remain outside, using your foot to hold the door in place while you rubbed your other arm, eyes locked onto the pair until they turned a corner and the only thing left to be heard was the sound of their footsteps and --rather loud-- laughter. You decided to wait a couple of seconds more before entering the building, keeping a slow walk towards the cafeteria.
The fact that the halls weren't as crowded as any other morning made you feel quite confused, out of place. The last few weeks have been like this actually, and while you actually didn't care for that certain feeling a while back, it was certainly bothering you now. You've walked the same halls for years now, done the same routine countless times, heck, you've worn the same uniform, gone to the same classes and talked to the same group of people ever since day one!
So why did you feel so out of place?
Frustration began to quickly cloud your vision, and before you knew it, you were wiping tears that began to roll down your cheeks. Stopping right in your tracks, in the middle of the empty hall you began to furiously try to wipe the tears, they kept on flowing freely now and that single thing managed to upset you even further. Biting your lip you shook your head and took a deep breath.
Alright, calm down. There isn't a need to have an existential crisis right in the middle of the hallway. You sighed, your throat felt like it was burning. Maybe crying could wait for later, you had classes to attend to and the single thought of having people worry about your being right now was the last thing you needed in your mind.
Heading towards the cafeteria, you actually began to have second thoughts. Just behind those doors you could hear the idle chatter of all of the students and a strange pull towards the place had begun to invade your thoughts, however, your fists clenched and un-clenched, your eyes averting to the end of the hall. You suppose you could skip breakfast, you weren't up to it anyways, and going there would only arise questions and conversations that you at the moment didn't feel like answering or simply ignoring.
Knowing your group of friends, they wouldn't drop the subject.
With one swift movement, you turned around and began to walk towards the nurse's office. Once reaching it, knocking on the door before it opened, revealing the nice nun from before. Her expression changed from serene to a confused --dare you say also kinda frightened?-- expression before she ushered you inside and told you to take a seat. Which you did, and realized once you were sitting down just how heavy your body felt.
"I take it you didn't have a goodnight's sleep?" The nun asked and you turned to look at her, she had held on to your bag and was carefully placing it somewhere where it wouldn't be disturbed. You raised a single eyebrow, shooting her a questioning look.
"What makes you think that?" You asked, genuinely curious to know her answer. Now that you thought about it, you didn't exactly know her name, you felt your cheeks warm at the thought. You've been here a couple of times already but you still haven't learned her name --has she even said it?--
You watched as she walked into another room before coming out a couple of seconds later with a silver tray with two teacups, you noticed how steam was coming out of both of them. The nun proceeded to put the tray in one of the counters before going back into the other room before coming out with a foldable table, sat it in front of you before putting the silver tray atop of it. You didn't utter a single word, not until she spoke.
"Well, you look like you haven't slept in ages-" this is actually true, you shifted on your seat, "-and it's a day off, you're not supposed to be wearing this uniform." She offered you a sympathetic smile and your mind reeled back to the events prior to coming here. So that's why those two other students were looking at you weirdly.
You let out a whine before hiding your face behind your hands. Of course, and to think that you were going to walk into the cafeteria wearing the wrong uniform! On these days, students have a certain uniform that is comfortable to wear throughout the day without breaking the dressing code. Gosh, you felt awfully stupid right now.
"Ugh, I was gonna make a fool out of myself..." you muttered, lowering your hands from your face before looking at the nun, she had been holding one of the cups and was handing it to you. You reluctantly took it and immediately recognized the smell, chamomile. She usually made this certain tea whenever you were here, it somehow managed to get you sleepy.
You frowned, were you actually that bad looking? Surely you couldn't have missed so much sleep to look so bad, could you? You were almost tempted to ask for a mirror but instead brought the cup to your lips, blowing a bit to cool the beverage before taking a small sip, which grew into a full gulp of it. It tasted surprisingly good, more so than before.
"You had breakfast right?" She asked and you shook your head, lowering your eyes when she frowned, clearly disappointed. However, she didn't ask any more questions, something for which you were extremely grateful.
You actually spent the whole morning there in a comfortable silence --at least to you it was-- with Sister Abigail, whose name you learned when you spotted a hand-sewn pillow with her name in it, she had asked what you thought about it and it was actually well made, which led to asking her about her past and other nonsense. The only time she ever asked about your situation was to know more about your current dilemma to which you actually spilled out the fact that the pills had no effect in your sleep whatsoever, she gave you a new batch and told her to tell ASAP if the pills didn't work.
You refrained from telling her about the occurrences of early in the morning after she had asked you about having any sort of hallucinations, you lied, because maybe what you had seen was actually a product of your imagination and your sleep deprived mind.
At least that's what you've been telling yourself for the last hour. After having left the place, you had been playing with the bottle of pills in your skirt pocket for what seemed like an eternity. You had gotten weird looks from the other students as you walked around the front yard, sitting down in random spots and just staring into the sky in deep thought. Your friends had actually managed to find you --not a hard task, seeing as the uniform you were wearing was extremely different from the others-- and you chatted a bit with them, as expected, you did get the comments on the bags underneath your eyes.
One of them had handed you a mirror and when you took a sharp intake of breath and you felt your cheeks warm up and your friend's laughing when they saw your expression, did you think about taking a nap. Heck, the day was still young and sleeping for a couple of hours before dinner didn't sound like much of a bad idea.
There was even one point where you asked any of them if they for some reason heard footsteps in the morning, apparently none of them had. So you quickly dropped the subject and tried to be social for what little amount you had before you grew bored and you were beginning to doze off every now and then, your friends had helped you walk towards your room --joking about how they were worried about you falling asleep on the way back to your room--
You didn't protest because even though they were joking around, you could clearly tell just how worried they were about you. A part of you felt loved, actually liked the fact that they cared, that they tried to get you to be comfortable, a bitter thought managed to settle itself into these thoughts and you realized that these people here actually cared, not like the ones from your hometown. You'd rather not recall those memories, not right now, hopefully never.
That was an hour ago, now you laid in bed in your uniform, not bothering to change out of it, you were alone in the bedroom anyways. Bottle of pills just besides your bed, on your nightstand. You had been staring into the ceiling, the taste of the tea still present in your mouth. Grabbing the translucent-orange bottle, you popped open the lid and took one of the pills, looking at it your lips turned into a thin line.
"Well, here goes nothing." You swallowed the pill, cringing at the fact that you didn't have water.
When you came around once more, the first thing you noticed just how stiff your body was. You instantly deduced it was because of the fact that you had heard some commotion, it was a distant, barely recognizable sound, but your mind had registered it as sound made by something --you quickly threw the word someone away-- rattling. Someone was shaking something.
You also came to realize that the room was lit up by your lamp and there was an extra weight in the corner of your bed. Standing up and scooting back, you rubbed the back of your neck as you let out a yawn, feeling as your muscles popped when you stretched. The rattling was still there, there was a pause, followed by the object stopping and then repeating the same action. Your vision was still fuzzy and your mouth opened to call Layla out on waking you up, however, something in your brain clicked and a cold shiver ran down your spine.
Layla had moved out a while back, the only one with the key to the bedroom was you-
"It's so funny how you need pills to sleep," a male voice spoke, a familiar one, and your eyes widened, "what? is the guilt eating you alive?" Then he chuckled.
You were almost tempted to scream, no, you wanted to scream, but seeing the black-haired male sitting so casually on your bed managed to make you so nervous, so afraid, your body wouldn't move. Your brain didn't want to move, you had caught sight of the weapon he had. It was almost as if he was taunting you, the knife laid right next to him, and his attention wasn't even focused on you. He was more focused on the pills, he threw the bottle in the air and caught it before it reached the floor.
"Say, [Name], is it helping you with those nightmares of yours?" That's when he turned to face you, completely ignoring the pills that fell to the floor with a dull clatter, followed by the sound of the contents spilling out. "Oops."
Your form began to shake and you bit your lip, your lungs ached to scream, your legs were feeling like sprinting out but the knife was right besides him, he was faster than you, a flash of images from the last time you saw him ran across your mind. You closed your eyes and shook your head, trying to erase the awful images from your mind. There was so much blood, almost thinking about it made you recall the horrible smell. You were sure he reeked of it.
You almost whimpered when you felt his weight shift and your eyes shot open, taking a huge jump back, your head hit the bedframe and he trapped you in between his body. Using the bed frame to sustain himself. The stitches were back and up close, you noticed he didn't exactly smell of blood, but there was another smell that you didn't --and didn't want to know-- recognize.
"What? Not going to scream?" He asked, the smile on his face seemed to widen, "you like to pretend like you're some big deal, doll." He leaned back. Sitting across you, still too close.
You were baffled, confused, nervous, but most of all, the anxiety and fear were going crazy in the pit of your stomach and you felt like you couldn't breath, almost as if you did, he would slice your throat open. Except he didn't because he had left the knife forgotten behind him. You couldn't even begin to comprehend why he was being so careless. You could easily kick him right now, but-
You cringed and scooted further back when one hand went to reach your face, despite your throat feeling like it was hard to swallow, you managed to speak; "P-please don't-- don't touch me."
If he could've blinked, you were sure he would've, he seemed confused before rolling his eyes and forcefully grabbing your chin. "Don't do any stupid tricks, like the last one you did. Or I'm getting rid of your eyes." He warned, and you nodded, your eyes were beginning to tear up. It was in that exact moment that another image seemed to flash by, this one being of the time when you spit right in his eyes, you felt yourself become even more afraid.
Was he just luring you into a false sense of security before killing you?
The two of you spent what seemed like forever like this, except that his gaze was so intense that you at some point had decided to avoid his gaze. He then scoffed, breaking the silence. He removed his hand and you could still feel it as it were a burning pain, his rough hands brought unpleasant memories that left you like a wreck.
"You haven't screamed, you haven't pleaded for your life-" you could almost hear him frown, "why the fuck haven't you? You're trembling, and I'm just touching you."
You bit your lip. It wasn't that you didn't want to scream, it was that your lips wouldn't budge to let it out, you knew better, you knew better, you knew better...
"I'll be good, just please--please don't touch me." The words left your mouth in a mere whisper, you were so ashamed and shocked, and where did that come from? You felt another wave of emotions and images that you didn't want to deal with. God you felt so stupid, so embarrassed. You sounded so pathetic.
A small part of you hoped that he'd listen to your only request, you couldn't bare the single thought of him ignoring you. You've tried before, pleading, trying to not rage the person, but that never worked. It never worked.
You almost wanted to laugh at your own misery. He was no different from those animals... he wouldn't listen to you.
In fact, once you looked at him through tear-filled eyes you could tell he wasn't even thinking about listening to you. Both his hands seemed to move towards you, before one retreated and his fingers came in contact with your forehead, he flicked it and you let out a small hiss, followed by your hands flying up to your forehead.
He seemed to be thinking about something before his eyes lit up with an emotion you held no care towards knowing what it was.
Then, he did something that you didn't expect. His lips met briefly with yours, then he bit and in the process, managed to make your head hit against the bed frame. You let out a startled gasp when you felt a hot liquid run down the back of your neck, a throbbing pain coming from the bump, the male's lips quickly retreated from your spot and he had the audacity to grin. You felt like throwing up.
God, he just kissed you. This is so fucked up, you were almost afraid of what he'd do next.
You could taste your blood in your tongue, you could see your blood in his lips. He seemed excited, as if he was entertained, licking his lips he leaned in, closer to you and you tried to scoot back but were unable to. You felt oddly calm --a small part of you, the one that was thankful that he hadn't killed you but still kissed you and it felt extremely wrong, you wanted to cry-- but at the same time you were still nervous and felt like throwing up.
This is the same guy who killed Samantha for fuck's sakes.
"Blondie wasn't this entertaining, she screamed and cried and told everyone about me. While it is fun watching people start to realize that she's slowly losing it, it isn't nearly as fun as stalking someone who's drawn me and doesn't plead for their lifes." He seemed almost content, but in his voice you could detect the slight disappointment.
You blinked, did that mean he wasn't going to kill you?
"Your screaming is nice-- too nice. I like it," He mused out loud and your eyes widened, "nightmares cause you to scream right? [Name]."
You gulped. How did he-
"It's nice, it sets the mood." He chuckled, and despite yourself you wondered what mood was your screaming setting? How long has he been around to hear you screaming after each nightmare?
"Except that it's not good. I don't want you screaming doll-" then his hand was again in your face and he was caressing your cheeks in a soft manner, his thumb grazing the scar of the cuts he had managed to cause when he pushed you to the ground that night. "At least, not when I'm not the cause of those nightmares."
His nail dug into your skin until he drew blood, you watched as he leaned closer and licked it. You were almost tempted to push him away, your body wouldn't cooperate. You felt so useless, so frozen by the fear. He might not be like those guys back at your town, he might not hurt you if you don't ask him not to. Whether the thought was comforting or not, you couldn't exactly decide.
"Say, let's play a game. The same one I played with Samantha." He suggested, leaning back, he almost seemed excited. You were actually thinking about just how old this guy was, for God's sakes, he almost seemed to be your age!
You didn't say anything, you didn't have a say in the matter anyways.
"I want to see how creative an artist's mind can be. I'll let you live, only if you manage to keep acting like nothing's wrong."
I feel like you guys should pester me for updates if I don't update in the 3-day-schedule.
Just do it. Please.
Sorry for the extremely delayed update, I went through a seriously rough week.
I was fucked up all over and just acted really shitty towards everyone I know.
This chapter is long and finally Jeff gets to make more appearances,
erm, so no respect for personal space. Blood play is implied a lot after this and physical abuse is used.
[ Previous/ Next Part ]
Please excuse any grammatical mistakes, they should be pointed out
so I can fix them as quickly as I can! Critiques are always welcomed
and appreciated <3
Jeff the Killer belongs to his original creator.
You belong to yourself.
Story/plot belongs to PrincessSakura1221
Art belongs to Me also. I have it on my tumblr.
Just do it. Please.
Sorry for the extremely delayed update, I went through a seriously rough week.
I was fucked up all over and just acted really shitty towards everyone I know.
This chapter is long and finally Jeff gets to make more appearances,
erm, so no respect for personal space. Blood play is implied a lot after this and physical abuse is used.
[ Previous/ Next Part ]
Please excuse any grammatical mistakes, they should be pointed out
so I can fix them as quickly as I can! Critiques are always welcomed
and appreciated <3
Jeff the Killer belongs to his original creator.
You belong to yourself.
Story/plot belongs to PrincessSakura1221
Art belongs to Me also. I have it on my tumblr.
© 2015 - 2024 PrincessSakura1221
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Okay, fine. I can be creative... as long as I don't have another micro sleep episode I'll be fine. Now, GET THE EEEEFFF OUT OF MY ROOM NAOW!!