Some of you may be thinking, "Hey, I've already seen this fanfic!"
Well, that's because you have. It's been reported to get rid of these nasty trolls that decided to crush my self-esteem in the comments section. Here's a message to all that are thinking about trolling, because I suppose the message in the previous version didn't get past some people's thick skulls. "Please don't be a jerk. If you don't like it, don't read it. Say you read it and didn't like it, be a good person, and instead of being mean to me via comments, don't comment at all. Or if you have the horrible urge to be a troll, troll me via note. I don't want mean messages clogging up my comment section."
And with that said, enjoy my first CreepyPasta fic!
WARNING: Contains slight JanexJeff
Disclaimer: I do not own Jane or Jeff the Killer.
The sound of heavy footsteps sounded throughout the wood floored hall; the only noise audible in the cold, dark winter night. Outside, the snow was falling at a steady pace, coating the ground in a thick, soft blanket of white. Looking out through the many tall, decorative windows in the corridor, it was a beautiful winter wonderland. Yet, the woman didn't even allow her black, seemingly soulless eyes to stray but a hair from their path. No, she kept her eyes trained straight in front of her.
Panting slightly from running, she briefly pondered the exact reason she was rushing to this particular room; a room she dreaded and feared. A room that sent unpleasant shivers up her spine when she did so much as stand outside the door.
A room that occupied a true madman.
Though he hadn't done anything too frightful for quite some time, and seemed to be settling down a bit from his usual psychotic tendencies, she couldn't help being wary of the fact that he could snap at any minute. Still, they were fairly sociable with each other, normally engaging in small talk or bickering about small things about each other that drove them absolutely insane.
So, you may ask, "If they spend so much time together, why is she so scared of him now?"
The answer lies in the darkness. The last time she had witnessed her 'friend' during the night hour, he had brutally slaughtered both of her parents.
A few silent tears streamed down her pale face as she realized that she had reached her destination. As she stood and stared at the door, a shiver ran through her feet and up her legs due to the chilled wooden floor, urging her to enter the room. She hesitantly reached for the doorknob, cringing as it made a quiet squeaking sound when she turned it. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she pushed the door open slightly, peering in and offering a soft, shaky whisper to the dark room.
She received no response.
Shaking in fear, she entered the room, quietly closing the door behind her. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she made out the shape of a bed. "J-Jeffery...?" she tried again, cautiously approaching the bed.
This time, a low, sleepy grumble broke the deafening silence, making her jump slightly, as she hadn't realized that she was only about a foot and a half away from the bed until she heard it's occupant shuffle the covers a bit. She stood frozen in fear, tears spilling freely from her eyes as she made out a dark figure slowly sitting up in the bed. Finally, the man spoke.
Though, instead of the voice being menacing and threatening as she first expected it would be, she was surprised to hear her name roll effortlessly off his tongue in a calm, smooth tone that almost made her knees buckle out from under her. She tried to speak, but no words came out, for she feared that they would be her last.
When the man known as Jeffery received no response, he leant over to the side of the bed and flipped on a lamp resting on his bedside table. Her eyes widened a bit at the sight of the him. Tufts of his long, sleek black hair were sticking out in gravity-defying angles in random places across his head, pulled out of his face by a plain black eyemask that was more than likely once rested over his lidless eyes to allow him better sleep. She found her gaze drifting down to his mouth; that ever-present smile carved deep into his cheeks.
"Jane," the sound of his voice broke her out of her trance, "What are y- What's wrong?" his tone transferred from confused to an odd mix of annoyed and concerned.
"W-what makes you so quick to assume something's wrong?" she finally managed to squeak, but immediately clamped her lips tightly shut, as she realized that that was probably not the right answer.
"You're crying." he gestured lightly with his bleach-white hand to her moist, reddened cheeks.
"O-Oh, that's just because... Well, you see, it's..." she had a hard time not squirming under his expectant gaze as he gestured for her to go on. "... I had a nightmare..." she finally sighed.
He raised his non-existent eyebrows. "A nightmare? Do you mind if I ask what about?" She looked down at her hands which were folded politely in front of her waist. Rocking back and forth on her heels, she mumbled something indecipherable. "I didn't quite catch that. Speak up."
This time, she spoke just loud enough for him to hear the words, "... About you."
He stared at her blankly, unnerving her with his wide, faux smile. "... About me?" his voice contained a hint of curiosity.
She felt dread at the thought of possibly triggering 'the feeling', but gave him a slow nod as a response to his question.
"... I see...." he stared into her pitch-black eyes with his light, glassy ones, "So tell me, why did you decide to come running to the source of your fright for comfort?"
Something about his words and the bitterness in them triggered emotions deep inside her, long since buried away and forgotten.
She tried to bite back a sob, but failed miserably, the sound emerging from her throat, strangled and desperate. "It's because..." More tears. "It's... because..." More sobbing.
And before Jeffery could even get a word in, all strings had snapped, and she became a crying mess; arms laying crossed on the bed mere inches from him, her head resting on them as she weeped uncontrollably.
Jeffery became uncomfortable. He'd never tried to console a girl before. I suppose now is the time to learn. was his thought as he gently grasped both of her arms and chided her up onto the bed so that she was sitting facing him. Now, he wasn't exactly sure what to do next. He wasn't just going to sit there and watch her cry for the rest of the night. He slowly and cautiously moved both of his hands up her arms and neck, resting them on either side of her face.
Jane immediately ceased her sobbing and looked up at him with wide, surprised eyes, shock written all over her face. He avoided her gaze in some desperate attempt to save some embarrassment. Her eyebrows lifted as she spotted a pale pink hue dusted over his bleached, leathery, hollow cheeks, unaware that he could blush at all. He took a deep breath and finally met her gaze, rubbing his long, boney thumbs gingerly under her eyes to clear away some of her tears
"Please, quit your crying," the area where the corner of his mouth used to be twitched a bit, as is he was trying to smile at her, "I've no clue how to handle a crying woman."
A small part of her wanted to bolt out of the room and into her own bed to hide under her covers and die from embarrassment. Another part of her wanted to lean in and kiss that charming grin he was attempting to adorn right off of his face. Though, she ignored both of these urges and only stared at the crazed man whom was now tucking a strand of her curly raven locks behind her ear. Her fingers subconsciously started nervously playing with the seam of her white nightgown. But, when his never closing eyes flicked down at her hands, she immediately halted her actions.
"So..." his eyes looked back up to meet hers, "Are you going to answer my question?"
She swallowed hard and spoke in a quiet voice, her seemingly soulless glistening black eyes gaining an emotion that Jeff could diagnose as only... adoration.
"It's because you're the only thing I still have..."