Jeff 7 years later: Difference between revisions
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{{Note|'''Jeff - 7 years later<br>
[[File:Jeff the Killer 2015 by R.M..jpg|thumb|326x326px|Jeff at 20]]▼
''
picture by Banning Kellum
'''Author's notes:''' This is essentially a "reverse Joker" story about Jeff the Killer. Could an irredeemable monster like Jeff ever stop killing? A similar to the concept of Anakin leaving the dark side in Return of the Jedi.}}
Jeff stirred. It was near pitch black. He vaguely smelled a smoldering, musty smell. He felt like he hadn’t smelled anything but blood for so long now. Something about that bloody smell brought him a high that was like nothing else. After all these years, maybe he had conditioned himself to go into hysterics when he smelled it.▼
▲[[File:Jeff the Killer 2015 by R.M..jpg|thumb|326x326px|Jeff's post-surgery face and original face at 20 years old]]
▲Jeff stirred. It was near pitch black. He vaguely smelled a smoldering, musty smell. He felt like he
Jeff was sleeping in a tattered, abandoned bed in an abandoned building in New York. Now that he could smell things other than blood, he felt overwhelmed. That constant high he had felt for so long had suddenly waned, and now all he wanted to do was vomit. He vaguely recalls the day before.
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'''1 day earlier'''
Jeff gleefully stabbed his knife through the old
Two hands furiously grabbed at him, pulling him around. It was a woman who looked to be in her
The woman grabbed
The woman finally stopped shaking him as she heard the old man groan again. Jeff watched, slumped against the wall, his head and body battered. The woman lay the man on is side as she furiously pulled out a bandage and began wrapping his gut up. By the time she was done, the
Jeff had never stayed this long with his victims before. It was strange feeling. The woman began weeping as she desperately listened for a breath from the old man. Jeff watched her turn him on his back and begin CPR, desperately pushing her hands against his chest to simulate his heart.▼
▲Jeff had never stayed this long with his victims before. It was strange feeling. The woman began weeping as she desperately listened for a breath from the old man. Jeff watched her turn him on his back and begin CPR, desperately cupping and pushing her hands against his chest to simulate his heart.
Jeff watched the woman do this for what felt like hours. In between, she would fumble with her mobile on the 911 emergency hotline. She explained that the old man had no ID and was probably homeless. The emergency told her he wouldn’t have the money or insurance, and said “he’s just a bum. Let him go.” Eventually, she was hung up on. After what felt like hours of her compressing his chest and giving him breaths, she slumped over his lifeless body, exhausted.▼
Defeated, she began to weep. After about 10 minutes, she stumbled to her feet, shaking, and looked directly at Jeff. Her hazel eyes stared straight at him. Jeff wanted to break the gaze and react, but all his battered and dazed body could do was slump against the wall, staring at her blood-shot eyes. Finally, she walked away. Jeff lay there next to the man’s body for hours, trying to get his body to move again. He must’ve broken several bones this time. Strangely, the blood smell no longer was putting him into a high.▼
▲Jeff watched the woman do this for what felt like hours. In between, she would fumble with her mobile on the 911 emergency hotline. She explained that the old man had no ID and was probably homeless. The emergency told her he
▲Defeated, she began to weep. After about 10 minutes, she stumbled to her feet, shaking, and looked directly at Jeff. Her hazel eyes stared straight at him. Jeff wanted to break the gaze and react, but all his battered and dazed body could do was slump against the wall, staring at her blood-shot eyes. Finally, she walked away. Jeff lay there next to the
'''Present day:'''
Jeffrey turned over in the musty bed. He felt his face, his white pasty skin was completely hair-free. He had always thought it looked cool. Normally this was the time of night
He
The next day:
Despite how groggy he felt, Jeff rose when the dawn sun began to shine through the slits in the abandoned apartment. The police would probably track down his location soon. And the idea of brutally murdering any more police today filled him with nausea. Maybe he could cross the border. Is he wanted in Canada too? Jeff stopped by a local shop and walked inside.
The store
The man shivered, backed against the wall, speechless.
Jeff saw the pamphlets on a nearby desk.
Jeff walked out with a pamphlet, leaving the shopkeeper breathing a sigh of relief as he left..
'''Next
You want to look like -that?-
“I know!” Jeff snapped. “What would he look like at 20? Make me that!”The doctor studied the photo, then looked up at Jeff. He seemed to be realizing just how long Jeff had a burnt white face. “.. Sir, I’ve only seen 1st degree burns as bad as yours two other times in my 30 year plastic surgery history” the doctor said. Despite Jeff’s anger and frustration, the doctor remained calm.▼
"I know!" Jeff snapped. "What would he look like at 20? Make me that!"
“Okay, you can open your eyes”▼
▲
'''Many hours later:'''
Light streamed into my vision as the bandages were peeled from my eyes.
The doctor seemed calm. As though
He smiled as he handed me a mirror. He seemed relatively pleased with the results.
My skin was no longer bleachy white but I instead my skin looked more flesh-colored. Just more pale than most people. There was a bit of a plastic look to it but at least I no longer looked like a kabuki dancer. They even had tried to re-do my eyelashes. I felt a mixture of anger, relief, and calm. I
I dropped the mirror as I clutched my head. The voices roared in my head. I took a deep breath and waited. I did not act upon this intense urge. Even thinking about the smell of blood made me feel like vomiting.
“Sir, are you alright?” the doctor asked, checking my pulse.▼
The yells in my head slowly turned to loud voices, then those voices slowly turned to whispers. Whispers I didn’t have to pay as much attention to. I could think a little more clearly.▼
Eventually, I took my head out of my hands and looked at the doctor. “.... Thank you.”▼
▲The yells in my head slowly turned to loud voices, then those voices slowly turned to whispers. Whispers I
▲Eventually, I took my head out of my hands and shakedly looked
The doctor extended a hand to me. I slowly and hesitantly brought a hand up to meet his hand. This was the first hand I had shaken in 7 years. It felt kind of nice.
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'''1 year later'''
The soup was coming to boil. The kitchen smelled meaty and like spilled gravy.. It was a relentlessly cold night in Canada and I had been on my shift for hours. I saw that Bill was snoring at the counter. I noticed a few beggars were gingerly entering the door, seemingly uncertain of our kitchen. Bill
I didn't like to talk much. Nothing I'd said for the past 7 years had felt like it'd done anything but lead to people being hurt. But I would talk when I absolutely needed to. I left the soup to simmer and walked over the counter. I rubbed
He stirred and realised where he was. With a jolt, Bill frantically stood back up, nodded me a quick thanks and greeted the visitors.
I went back to the kitchen to finish cooking the soup. Even if I
I can never undo everything
▲I can never undo everything I’ve done in the past. And I can never be redeemed for who I was. But in my new life, I’m going to try while I can to make people a little less miserable. I don’t claim what I’m doing is morally “good” or “bad.” I’m doing this now because it lets me feel at peace. And now, that’s enough for me.
▲'''The end??'''
'''The End'''
▲Yes. Yes it is. Have a nice day.
{{by|PhantomStrider}}
[[Category:Trollpasta]]
[[Category:Jeff the Killer]]
[[Category:SUPR SKAREY IMAG]]
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