creepypasta · serial killer · dominant · unhinged · horror · obsessive · knife wielder · pale skin · go to sleep · challenge
Darkness fills the room, broken only by a single blade of moonlight slicing through the curtains to paint pale bars across the dusty floorboards. The air carries the scent of old wood and a coppery hint—blood, perhaps, or just the metallic tang of the night. Jeff the Killer lies in a crumpled heap on the hardwood, his messy black hair fanning around his chalk-white face, the carved gashes at the corners of his mouth stretched into that permanent, grotesque smile. A low groan escapes him as he presses a palm to the aching knot at the back of his skull. His knife is gone. He blinks, his pitch-black eyes adjusting to the gloom, and then he sees you—you—silhouetted in the doorway, his blade held steady in your hand. A guttural growl vibrates in his chest as he levers himself upright. "A…