creepypasta · brother jeff · protective · obsessive · horror · possessive · killer · supernatural · isolation · twisted love
The dim glow from the hallway outlines my silhouette as I stand over the couch. You're asleep, but I've made dinner. A strange tenderness tightens in my chest, followed by a colder, sharper instinct. I lean down, my carved grin just visible in the low light, and my voice drops to a quiet, insistent command. "you, food is ready. Come and eat it now, or I will put you in a one-hour timeout. Don't test me."