Jeff the Killer: My Experience

Why did I do it? I should have learned my lessons with Candyman and Bloody Mary! How do I get myself mixed up in these things?

It was a stormy day Friday, April 13.

I'm not superstitious, but bad things always happen to me on Friday the 13. I spilled milk on my favorite T-shirt, I flunked the Math test, I spilled my lunch on the cutest boy in school, and then I twisted my ankle in P.E. Little did I know my day was about to get a whole lot worse.

After the bell rang, I was confronted by Jeffery, the new kid. Jeffery had just enrolled in the school, and I was appointed to be his guide. Jeffery was nice enough, but he was just a little too creepy. He had a wide smile painted to his lips, bread white skin, and dark, soulless eyes that seemed to see through my soul, seemed to search for my deepest, darkest secrets.

"Cat, You're a great artist. Can you do me a favor?" he asked me.

Cautiously, I said, "You know an awful lot for a new kid..."

"Word got around about your artistry." He took out a piece of paper and showed it to me. "Your friend Christine gave this to me. Look familiar?"

Indeed, it did look familiar. It was the picture of Pinkamena Diane Pie in her Cupcakes outfit, the dress sewn out of Cutie marks with Pegusus wings stitched on, and her necklace of severed Unicorn horns.

"But... but...!" I spluttered. Christine had gon missing three days ago, and I had been worried sick about her. Tears trickled down my cheeks, and I was beginning to like Jeffery less and less with each breath.

"Now, I would like you to..." I didn't wait for Jeff to finish. I flung my backpack over my shoulder and burst through the school doors. I'm known for being the fastest runner in the school.

I ran down to Maple Avenue, the neighborhood next to mine. I stopped to catch my breath and looked around. No sign of Jeffery.

I turned back, AND JEFFERY WAS RIGHT THERE IN FRONT OF ME.

"Cool it, Cat. Just listen for a second, will ya?" he said.

"Get away from me, you creeper!" I sobbed, and swung my backpack at him. He ducked. It didn't phase him that I was going crazy. Like it was perfectly normal for a girl to attack him.

"What do you want?!" I asked finally, giving up my attempts to knock him sideways.

"I just want you to draw a picture for me. Here." He gave me a paper and a creepy looking pen with rubber spikes on it. "Draw."

I was confused, then inspiration struck me. I wrote down on the paper, in words that looked like they were scrawled on by a five year old, "I aM nOt A sErIaL kIlLeR".

Just then, the rubber spikes on the hand turned hard. I yelped, and dropped the pen. Drops of my blood dropped onto the paper.

Jeffery beamed, "Thank you. I will keep this forever!"

I sucked on my sore fingers while Jeffery walked away. I picked up my backpack again and and walked back to my house.

—

I slept uneasy that night. My fingers hurt, and I couldn't get the look of Jeffery's face when I began to bleed out of my mind.

Suddenly, I heard a creak. I sat up abruptably. A shadow stood there, a couple feet from my bed.

"Dad?" I asked. "Is that you?"

"Your daddy's still sleeping, Cathie."

I reconized the voice. It was Jeffery's voice.

I tried to chuckle, "Oh-ho-ho! Very funny, Jeffery. But... how'd you get into my house?" I felt for my baseball bat.

"Please," he giggled. "Call me Jeff."

I wrapped my hands around the bat's handle. I probed for the right time to throw it.

"That's enough reminsising. It's time to begin..."

"GET OUT!" I screamed, and flung the bat.

It hit Jeff in the forehead, and he moved towards me. I tried to dance out of his path, but he grabbed my wrist and didn't let go.

I kicked and screamed, bit and spit, and hit him with my free hand, with no avail.

He took out a needle with a syringe, and plunged it into my neck. Then he let go.

Slowly I slipped from conciousness, woozy and cofused. I began seeing double.

"Coedine," Jeff rasped, "works every time."

I tried to keep myself awake, but the drug kept dousing the adrenaline I forced into my blood.

"Stay awake... stay awake...!" I murmered to myself.

"Go to sleep... go to sleep..." Jeff countered gently.

And I passed out.

—

I awoke an hour later. I thought it was just a nightmare, and was relieved that it was over.

I tried to shake my head, but it was strapped firmly into place. So were my arms and legs, strapped to my bed. I looked up, and Jeff was standing there.

At least, it looked a little like Jeff. His skin was bleached white, his lips a bright red, and thin black hair. The only reconizable feature I saw was the eyes that seemed to probe my soul for weaknesses.

"Good, you're awake. Now we can get started." he smiled, making his sick grin even wider.

He advanced towards me holding a jagged knife. I thrashed about uselessly as he walked to the right side of my bed. I began to cry.

"Don't cry," Jeffery smiled. "It will be all over soon." He twirled the knife in his hand.

"Besides, Christine didn't cry this much when I was her turn. She took it like it came, without fear..."

That did it. I was boiling mad. No, try livid! How dare he? How dare he kill my friend and use it as a trick to let him kill me?

I noticed that one of the straps tying me to the bed was loose. The left leg strap.

I let Jeff lean down close enough to me so that we were looking eye to eye.

"Bye, Cathrine. Thanks for the lovely picture."

Then I kicked, and my leg came loose. I kicked him in the side, and he dropped the knife. I caught in in my teeth, and used it it cut one of the arm straps. Then I undid the rest of the straps.

"No!" Jeff roared, coming at me with another needle. I dodged it. He had swung too hard, and it brought his arm back to his stomach!

"Ughh..." he groaned, dropping to the floor.

I glared at Jeff. He had gotten a taste of what it was like to be the victim.

"I'm going to call the police!" I trembled as I started to skid out of the room.

Jeff coughed, "N-no! P-please...! H-help... m-m-me...!"

I stopped and whipped my head around. I glared at him with an evil death glare.

"Help you?! Just like you helped all those people who begged you for their lives?! A lot of people suffered because of you!"

"P-p-please...! J-just... let me g-g-go... and y-you won't h-h-have t-to worry about your f-friends b-b-because of me...!"

"Oh, just like I won't have to worry about Christine anymore? Any more of my friends you killed?!" I started towards the door again.

"Christine's... s-still... alive...! Sh-she's still at m-my place... in the b-b-b-basement!" he babbled.

I stopped. I stared into Jeff's eyes. They had grown cold, sad, and frightened. The poor thing was telling the truth. I couldn't do it. I really couldn't leave him like that. He looked just as scared as I was.

"Gimme the address first." I mumbled.

He gave me the address. Then I asked him, "Where'd you get the coedine? Do you got any adrenaline in there?"

"Y-yes! I got some adrenaline... in m-m-my b-bag!"

I found a black bag and a shot of adrenaline. I plunged the needle into Jeff's neck. Slowly, he recovered, and stood up.

"Now get out." I growled.

Jeff stared at me. I stared back. We stared at each other for a while. Jeff was breathing hard, as if trying to process what just happened.

Finally, he grabbed me by the shoulders. I struggled, then realized what he was about to do.

He leaned down to my ear, and rasped, "T-thank you... thank you."

And then he left through the window without another word.

—

The following day I rode my bike to the address Jeff had given me. The place was broken down and deserted. Blood covered the walls in spatters. I walked down to the basement, and sure enough, there was Christine. She looked beaten, battered and bruised.

As soon as we got out of the building, Christine started drilling me with questions.

"What happened? How'd you get outta there alive? Where were you? Wha-" I cut her off. I didn't want to talk about him.

I brought Christine back to her parents' house, and they were relieved. Christine told them that a strange man had taken her when she was walking home from choir. He beat her with a bat and told hier that I was next, and that we were gonna die together.

Chris's parent's drilled me with questions, but I told them some things were best left unsaid.

After that, I left. I was unsure where to go from there. I had made it. I had survived. Jeff told the truth about everything so far. But was he really going to stop hunting my friends?

The next week, I was reading one of my dad's Things Do Happen! magazines. I came upon an article about a strange murder. A man in Rhode Island was doused in lighter fluid and lit on fire. His face was then painted white, his lips red, and his hair dyed black.

I realized what that murder was talking about. It was the story on how Jeff the Killer came to be.

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