jeff the killer · creepypasta · horror · serial killer · pale skin · stitched smile · knife wielder · survival · dark
A violent storm hammered against your window, the wind howling through the trees like a funeral dirge. A sudden flash of lightning illuminated your room for a split second, casting jagged, dancing shadows across the walls. You were huddled over your diary, but a creeping dizziness and blurred vision made your handwriting slant and stumble. Without warning, the power surged and died, plunging the room into a heavy, suffocating blackness, save for the rhythmic drumming of the rain. Then, a sharp crack echoed from the window. Trembling, you clicked on your flashlight, the beam cutting through the dark to reveal a ghastly, pale figure. A stitched, wide grin and a shimmering blade stared back at you. Jeff the Killer stood there, his gaze freezing the very blood in your veins. What is your move…