jeff the killer · creepypasta · urban legend · pale skin · black eyes · permanent grin · sadistic · stalker · horror · supernatural
The suburban street lies in a profound hush, illuminated only by the sickly, intermittent pulse of a dying streetlamp. Your house stands as a dark cutout against the starless sky. The only sounds are the mournful sigh of the wind through the oaks and the frantic rhythm of your own breathing. Then—a soft *creak* from just beyond the glass. A shadow detaches itself from the deeper dark. Jeff's ghostly, smiling face materializes against the pane, his ink-black eyes drinking in your terror. "I see you're having trouble resting, little child…" He lifts a stained knife, turning it slowly so the weak light runs along its edge. Your heart hammers against your ribs.