This story are the thoughts of Jeff the Killer as he meets Bedlam...
The weirdest occurrence happened. I did my last kill for the night and was about to go back to my hideout (a new one, I’m on the run all the time), when the strangest thing happened to me...
I sprinted down the street and turned a corner towards... a playground. Here’s the thing, I never get lost, so this was a first for me. But instead of getting frustrated with my sudden loss of direction, I felt my carved mouth move into a larger smile. I saw someone on the swings on the very edge of the playground, and their built said it was a girl. Her age, I wasn’t sure of. It was dark, I couldn’t see her very well, anyway. But, of course, the darkness was an advantage to me. I moved closer to the girl as she swung back and forth on the swings...
Back and forth... Back and forth... Back and forth...
I crept closer. But as I was only a few yards away, I froze... and realized something...
She was looking at me the whole time. I stood there, I was still crouching in the darkness. She had stopped swinging, and was now frozen, like I was. I kept my eyes locked on her as she stood up. She had something behind her back, and wiggled her finger, gesturing me to go over to her...
“Who’s there?!” I turned my head to see a little boy, about nine, at the very edge of the playground. Near some houses. I heard a subtle whoosh of air and I looked back to where the girl was... and what do you know, she was gone. The boy saw me, and I ended up giving him a few stabs.
I was a bit confused as to where the girl went, where she came from, or what she was doing there in the dark. Now that I think about it, she didn’t really look like a girl that you would find at a playground. When she stood up, she looked very large in size. Tall, but pencil-thin...
I saw her again the next night after another kill. That tall, stick-like girl. I found her and followed her, and got a closer look, but in better light. While under a streetlamp, I saw that, in fact that she wore no shoes, only stripped, black and white stockings and sleeves. She had tight, grey shorts and a red t-shirt. And her hair was blue, I don’t think it was a wig, really... Nor dyed. Authentic, real hair in a blue shade. I knew that she noticed me, but I wasn’t afraid. We kind of stared at each other for a few seconds before some noise took my gaze off of her, and she was gone with a gentle whoosh.
Later, I realized she was following me, and I lost her eventually. She reminded me of Slenderman in some way, tall, thin, stalking, even comes and goes randomly. What have I done? I thought. Is she going to stalk me until we kill each other? Or maybe she’s friendly? No matter, she’ll die sooner or later...
The next night was very different from yesterday when I thought she was friendly. Friendly my foot, turns out she had a croquet mallet behind her back before on the playground. I went to find out if she was at the playground again, and there she was. She gestured to me with her finger again, and I moved toward her with curiosity. What an idiotic idea that was!
Next thing I knew, I ducked under a croquet mallet being swung over my head like a baseball bat! She chased after me for a few blocks before I jumped over a dumpster as an old man passed by. Again, she seemed to gracefully and quickly glide away into the darkness. As for that old man? He didn’t see me, so I spared him. "That stupid girl!" I thought in fury. I’m going to find her tomorrow and end this!
I met her back at the playground again the next night. I knew she was waiting for me, as was I for her. I gripped my knife and walked up to her, and I finally spoke.
“Who are you?” She stood there, leaning on her mallet. We stood in silence for a few moments. “Answer me!” I snapped slightly. The girl scoffed.
“Polite little boy, aren’t we?” Her voice was muffled, and I realized her face wasn’t really a face, but a mask. It was pale with pink cheeks, and the red paint over the white, plastic lips were shaped into a heart and into a twisted side grin. Her voice was almost... Friendly, and perky. But reminded me of a badly tuned music box. Out of all of those features, her eyes stuck out to me the most. They were a bright yellow, with no pupils.
“Answer me.” Her music box-like voice snapped me out of my trance staring into her eyes.
“What do I say?” I glared at her. To my surprise, she took out a random candle and matchbox from her pocket and lit it.
“What the heck are you supposed to be?” She held the candle to my face and squinted.
“It isn’t Halloween yet, kid!” She chuckled, but her eyes grew wide as she looked into mine. She drew back again, licked her fingers, and took the flame out.
“Holy crap! It’s Jeff the Killer!”
“What do you mean it’s not Halloween?” I said through clenched teeth.
“Well, it’s true.” She said with a bit of a sassy tone. She crossed her arms. “What do you want, kid?”
“What do I want?!” I tried not to shout so the whole neighborhood could hear me. “Why are you following me?!”
“You started it!” She shoved her finger into my face. I snatched up my knife and slashed at her finger. She managed to dodge it and made an impressive backflip. She suddenly took out a deck of cards from her pocket and flicked one of them at me. I ducked, but it came back around like a boomerang and grazed my cheek. The girl caught the card as I fell in against the wall again, shocked of how quickly everything went. I touched my stinging cheek and felt the blood drip down it. I was furious!
“Wow...” I looked up at the girl again, she was leaning on the mallet the same way as before.
“What a baby! I thought you were a deadly killer, not a knock-to-the-ground-easily killed killer!” And she stuck her hand out, telling me she wanted to help me up.
“I’m Bedlam.” She said.
“I can get up myself...” I mumbled angrily under my breath, doing so. “Why did you offer to help me?” Bedlam rolled her eyes.
“Can’t I be a friendly kind of girl?” She swung the croquet mallet over her shoulder and glared at me. “Or does every boy think that girls are scary and evil?”
“Did I say that?” I hissed. She ignored my angry statement.
“We’re both killers, aren’t we?”
“Your point?”
“We don’t have to be rivals and try to kill each other at every moment we’re seen by the other!” She hung her head down and her music box voice turned sad. “I need a friend, Jeff...” I frowned.
“Why do you need someone like me?” I scoffed. “I work alone.”
“Come on, man!” She took the chin of her mask, lifted it up... and showed her face. I gasped.
What a terrible sight! Bedlam’s face was twisted and mangled, like she had been in a huge car wreck! Her eyes were ringed with black and blue bruises, she had no nose, she had no lips, and barely any teeth.
“You see,” She began, putting the mask back.
“I have a mask because of the tragedy that happened to my beautiful face! An idiot of a jock girl thought it would be funny to throw the basketball right into my nose, I ended up losing that and my lips in surgery. And another time she took out both my eyes and most of my teeth...” She paused, fury and insanity was coming upon her.
“...I snapped, Jeff. I found my favorite toy...” She stroked her croquet mallet. “And bashed her head open while she was sleeping.” Bedlam looked up at me.
“I’m just like you Jeff, a runaway, a fugitive... But with one exception... You don’t hide your face like I do... No, sir, you aren’t afraid of people seeing your... beautiful...” She lifted her hand up and stroked my face.
“...Beautiful face.” She paused again.
“I just want a friend, Jeff. I want to kill with you! I want to be like you!” I stood there, shocked. Both at her face and the fact she wanted to be like me. My grin grew wider.
“...I’m sorry I tried to stab you, Bedlam.” I said softly.
“I’m sorry I teased you.” She said back. “Let’s go, we should go and kill together.”
I felt so happy, I had a friend now...
I knew I was beautiful.
Well, hello there,
Readers young and old,
You're in for quite a treat,
A true tale to behold.
As you can see,
With a title such as this,
I will tell you the tale,
Of how Jeff killed Christmas.
It all started late,
On a silent Christmas Eve,
And our favorite killer, Jeff,
Had something up his sleeve.
Seeing that it was Christmas,
Jeff wanted to do something new,
Something extra special,
But, what was he to do?
Just then, he heard something,
His feet made him pause,
He slowly turned to see,
A fake, drunken Santa Clause.
The wheels started turning,
Jeff had a plan,
He clutched the knife in his pocket,
And that's when it began.
Old Saint Nick saw Jeff,
Heading strait his way,
Maybe he could get a dollar,
From Mr. Jeff today.
"Hey, buddy, wanna help me out?
Now, don't go bein' cheap."
Jeff lunged at the man saying,
"Go to sleep."
He slit Santas throat,
While he squirmed and thrashed,
But there was no escaping,
Being cut and being slashed.
The drunk fell to the ground,
With a noticeable thud
His pupils started to widen,
As he choked on his blood.
Jeff grabbed Santas suite,
Soaked with crimson water,
That's when he knew,
He could start his Christmas slaughter.
When he achieved his looked,
He was on his way,
But not before he hijacked Santas car,
Or, I mean, his sleigh.
He drove threw a small neighborhood,
Rather quiet and kind,
The perfect setting for what,
Jeff was planning in his mind.
His plan was to sneak into each home,
All of the parents he'd kill,
Murdering almost the whole neighborhood,
To get his holiday thrill.
Jeff chuckled maniacally,
Stopping at the first house on the block,
At how upset this town would be,
Boy, would they be in for a shock.
He could just imagine it,
All of the children on Christmas day,
To see that mommy and daddy,
Were some twisted psychos prey.
He got out of the car,
And trudged through the snow,
Then he scaled the side of the house,
Up to somebodys window.
Through the window, he saw the parents,
Dreaming their Christmas dreams,
"It's a little too quiet in there,
Let's see if I can't get 'em to scream."
He snuck through the window,
And crouched by the bed,
He withdrew his knife,
And balanced it on daddys head.
He poked at daddy dearest,
Who awoke to the face of evil,
The man let out a gasp of fear,
"Yeah. I have that effect on people."
Jeff slammed the knife through his skull,
The mother screamed and tried to run,
But Jeff caught up and gutted her,
He seemed to be having a lot of fun.
When he was done with the mother,
He wrote his slogan on the wall,
But then he heard little footsteps,
Making there way down the hall.
He shot out of the room,
Then he slammed the door,
He couldn't let the child see,
His masterpiece of gore.
In the hallway he met,
A young little girl,
With eyes a bright blue,
And hair of blonde curl.
The girl looked at Jeff,
All dressed in Santas gear,
Her eyes lit up with excitement,
And her voice filled with cheer.
"Santa! I can't believe it's you!"
This was the best moment of her life,
Then she looked to his side, and asked,
"What are you doing with that knife?"
"It's, uh, for cutting the turkey.
I'm making sure it's fresh for tomorrow."
She glared at the knife again and said,
"I've got a better one for you to borrow."
She led him to the kitchen,
And opened up the drawer,
His eyes were fixated on a knife,
That he just couldn't ignore.
The monstrous knife with a serrated edge,
Put his bloody weapon to shame,
He pulled it from the drawer thinking,
'This will be better for my reindeer game.'
"Will this work for you Santa?
Did I help you out?"
Jeff patted the girls head with praise,
And said "Without a doubt."
He sent the girl back to bed,
And made his way out of the door,
He hopped in his car and continued,
With his night of unspeakable horror.
From home to home he went,
Having a ball with his slaughter,
Leaving behind a special present,
For every son and every daughter.
He decorated the trees with intestines,
And filled their stockings with eyes,
He made quick work of the parents,
Making sure the kids couldn't hear their cries.
He propped up his victims,
On the couch in the living room,
Placing their heads in their laps,
Making a rather picturesque tomb.
By the time he had finished,
He could see the early light of day,
He ditched the costume, got in the car,
And ended his night of horrid play.
His first annual Christmas killing,
Was very brutal, I must confess,
But we all know, that in his eyes,
He saw it as his greatest success.
That small town won't be the same,
They will forever live in fear,
Because in the back of their minds, they know,
That he'll do the same thing every year.
So, for those of you who live,
In a town of small population,
Be warned and prepare,
For a night of gore and devastation.
Sleep with a gun, lock everything up,
And don't forget this little thriller,
If you don't want to be the next victim,
Of the infamous, Jeff the killer.