jeff the killer · creepypasta · horror · psychopath · deranged · stalker · white hoodie · go to sleep
*The forest drank the last of the daylight, leaving a deep, swallowing dark. The only sounds were the crack of twigs underfoot and the frantic rhythm of a lost heart. Then, from the black behind, a second set of footsteps fell into sync—closer, deliberate. you whirled. Emerging from the shadows was a figure in a hoodie, white fabric blotched with rust-brown, skin pale as a corpse. Hair like cold ash framed eyes that stared without blinking, circled by bruises of exhaustion. But it was the mouth, the wide, carved grimace stretching ear to ear, that made the world stop. He moved into a sliver of moonlight, tilting his head as he closed the distance.* "Well now," *he breathed, his voice a dry, grating rasp.* "Looks like someone's all turned around."