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randomphyre · 1 year ago

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Jeff The Killer Reborn: "Midnight Visit"

The moon bled in through the window, illuminating the dimly lit room as a man sat entranced by his TV. His gaze was hooded and lifeless, as if he was hypnotized by the programming presented before him. But suddenly, the trance had been broken by a thud that had come from his laundry room. The man jumped at the noise, looking in the general direction of where the room was before turning his TV down and standing up. He grabbed a knife from the kitchen and mustered the courage to approach. Jeff readied himself as he could hear the man's steps getting closer. Jeff held back his urge to laugh, already knowing how this story went. He always knew. He had gone through the motions so many times. And Jeff knew that the movies he watched never lied. People really were as gullible as he thought they were. They'd turn their attention to any sound and then cautiously walk towards it, instead of assessing their options or even charging in guns blazing. They always walked right into the trap he had set. As the man inched towards the door, the knife trembling in his hand. His lips parted, as if to speak, but he hesitated for a second before the action followed through. "L-Listen here, man! I-I've got a weapon...a-and you're trapped in that room! I-If you don't tell me who you are right now a-and get out of my house, I'll get you out myself!" Jeff almost chuckled quietly to himself. Despite the man's attempt at intimidation Jeff could hear the fear in his voice, the meekness in his tone. This man wasn't a threat, and he couldn't be if he ever tried. Jeff sighed to himself as he waited behind the door to see if the man would make the first move. The man tried again. "I-I'm gonna call the police if you don't get out of my house right now! D-Do you want that? Huh?!" As the man raised his voice, the shakiness of it only became more apparent. Both of them knew that he was just wasting his time trying to intimidate the mystery man on the other side of the door. The man took a solemn shaky breath before slowly reaching for the doorknob, his hand still trembling. As Jeff heard the creak of the doorknob slowly turning he knew his time was now. As the man threw open the door, aiming his knife towards the general direction of the room he saw nothing at first, just the pitch blackness of the laundry room, the moonlight from the windows bleeding in slightly. But as his eyes adjusted, he could finally see. At the back end of the small room stood the silhouette of a man, his messy long hair visible against the wall as he stood straight and still. The man stood frozen, his heart sinking lower in his chest as this altercation had quickly become like an old western duel, Jeff noting such in his mind. If the man were smart he would've struck him by now, catching Jeff off guard and ending the altercation fairly quickly, but his own fear and anxiety prolonged the suffering. He would never strike first and Jeff knew it. Jeff relaxed his position, and finally decided to strike. as he charged towards the man, the moonlight shined on his pale face, his mouth wide and manic, the blood dripping from his last meal. his eyes were dark and sunken, looking more like vacant circles save for the small bloodshot eyes hiding within them. He readied his hand in a stabbing position before the man took a swing.

Jeff moved out of the way before it had made contact and he grabbed the man's wrist and squeezed, causing him to yell in pain and drop the knife. Jeff's movements were always deliberate and unpredictable, confusing most of his victims. Jeff swung his arm forward and made contact with the man's stomach. The man screamed in pain as he fell to the ground, grabbing at the wound. Jeff let the man go as he fell, and quickly sad beside him, looking at the man like a curious animal. Jeff looked to the knife still in the man's stomach as he squirmed on the ground like a decapitated worm. Jeff grabbed the hilt and ripped the knife from his stomach, making him yell in pain once more.

Jeff grabbed the man's head and quickly snapped his neck, ending the altercation with him as the victor, like it had always happened. People were always as gullible as Jeff thought they were. As he wiped the blood from his knife, he looked at his victim lifeless on the ground as he analyzed his face. It had been an older man, maybe in his forties, with a scruffy mustache and rugged features and short hair. Jeff noted how he had been on the heavier side as he looked at the still bleeding wound in the man's stomach. The man was in average trucker get up, sleeveless plaid coat with a wife beater underneath. His eyes once full of a will to live, were now empty and vacant, like a doll that hasn't been cleaned. Jeff rolled his eyes and kneeled down to his bleeding wound before he began drinking the blood. It was all Jeff would consume after he escaped. He saw it as a reward for a successful hunt. As Jeff saw the man's skin turning paler, he knew that his meal was finished. He stood up, not wiping the blood from his lips as he grabbed the ankle of the corpse and began dragging it to the garage where all of the "fun" tools Jeff could use to make his victims more convenient to hide. As Jeff scanned the walls for possible candidates his eyes locked with an electric saw. What was left of his facial muscles curled into a somehow wider smile as he yanked it off the wall, breaking the supports suspending it. He plugged it in and finally had his chance. As Jeff finished putting the corpse's leg into a bag he grabbed all of the parts and went outside. He ventured deep into the woods, the moonlight illuminating his path as he found the perfect spot. He grabbed his shovel and began digging, dumping all of the parts inside afterward. He covered the holed and patted the dirt with his shovel before tossing it away, leaving just him and his knife once more. This is how Jeff had dealt with every one of his victims. This is how he got away with his crimes, and why the police could never find the bodies. As Jeff walks out of the woods back into the town he rubbed his eyes with frustration. "Dumb fat ass had barely any blood in him...it's probably just lard running through his fuckin' veins..." He murmured to himself as he donned his hood so people couldn't see his face. Though, with his dark clothing, he already blended in to the night anyhow. He made his way down the street with his hands in his pockets, keeping his head low.

As the moon shined brighter and higher in the sky, Jeff felt more anger bubbling in his chest, the same anger that dictated his day to day life of murder and solitude. He tried to ignore it as he walked past a house painted with a yellow that had faded from the sunlight. But as he was about to make his way down to the end of the street, he heard a certain voice yell in the house, one he knew quite well. "Honey! Can you help me lift this?" The voice said, the echo of the house making it sound distant. Jeff stopped dead in his tracks and turned his head towards the building, giving it a better look. The house was tall but quaint, the small circular window at the top feeling like an eye looking down on Jeff. He walked towards the house silently, watching his steps to avoid fallen branches and grass patches as he finally made his way to the nearest window. He squatted down to avoid being seen and peered inside. And there he was. After all of these miserable years fending for himself and feeding on the less fortunate, he finally saw his old bully Randy attempting to lift a piano. His short brunette hair was a bit messy but fairly clean, his outfit a t-shirt and cargo shorts. As Jeff felt the rage bubbling more within him at the sight his wife came into view, a beautiful woman wearing a pale blue button-up rolled at the sleeves and a short skirt. She put her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes playfully as Randy sighed in frustration at his futile attempts to lift the piano. "You need to lift with your legs, not your back, dear. You're gonna hurt yourself." She said cautiously as she took hold of one end of the piano and picked it up with him, setting it down flush against the wall. Both of them sighed in relief as they laughed at each other's exhaustion. He grabbed hold of her and held her tight in his arms, still laughing as he kissed her forehead and carried her out of the view of the window. Jeff scoffed after he knew they were gone and ducked under the window sill, muttering angrily to himself. "That piece of shit...I wonder if he's forgotten about me...probably has, the selfish bastard..." Jeff turned his head towards the ground as he rambled in whispers, talking to himself. "Why didn't he leave? I was on the news right? He should've left, unless..." Jeff turned his head up, staring into the brick of the house next door, his eye twitching. "...he's not scared of me."

As the words left his mouth, his rage reached it's boiling point as he slammed his fist in the dirt and stood back up. "This whole fuckin town is scared of me! There's no way he'd be so damn clueless..." Jeff paced along the wall as his gripped his fists. "I should fuckin show him. Show him what he gets for thinking I'd never find him. Show him what he deserves for ruining my life." Though, as he rambled, Jeff knew he'd only been lying to himself. It's not like there was a lot of life to ruin whenever he had snapped. Everyone at school hated him, his parents barely ever paid him any mind, his brother became more focused on his friends as he got older...maybe that's why he did it, he thought. In his eyes, he had nothing to lose. But he would rather lie to himself then face the truth. Jeff stopped thinking to himself and began devising a plan in his mind, one that would let Jeff finally have his revenge. Jeff waited until midnight before he would make his entrance. He knew Randy and his wife would probably be asleep by then, allowing him to be undetected. He tried the front door. It was locked. He tried the back door. Also locked. He moved to the window he had first seen Randy in and gripped the window sill, pulling up...it was unlocked. As Jeff pulled open the window he removed the screen and set it aside as he slowly and cautiously climbed into the window. As he was finally in, he looked around what seemed to be the living room. The piano sat still against the wall, the couch bigger than Jeff had expected. He checked for his knife in his pocket and began making his way through the house, checking every room to see which was Randy's. As he saw more and more of the house, he realized just how stereotypical it had been. It was as suburban as most of the houses in Wisconsin were. But, as he opened one room his eyes widened with surprise. It was...a kid's bedroom. The walls were lined with space posters and other related memorabilia. A tiny diorama of the solar system hung from the ceiling. as his eyes scanned the room, he finally caught sight of Randy's son. In high school, Jeff never thought of Randy as the fathering type, considering his usual behavior, but it didn't exactly surprise him either. The boy slept peacefully under the covers, his hair short with freckles dotting his face as his eyes laid shut. But as Jeff saw him starting to shift in his sleep, he turned to leave the room before a young voice called out to him. "Hello?" Shit. Jeff turned slowly towards the boy as the boy's face turned a bit scared upon seeing Jeff's face. "Who are you mister?" The child asked, half-whispering. Jeff stepped back into the room and shut the door quietly behind him. "Hello there little one. I am..." Jeff tried thinking of a name he could use, an alias perhaps. As his eyes darted around the room for a solution he looked out the window next to the boy's bed, the moon shining bright and filling the room with its pale blue sheen. "I am...Mr. Midnight." He said with a bit of a rasp in his voice, trying to sound more extravagant to the boy. his face lit up as Jeff told him his supposed identity, and the boy sat up in his bed. He seemed to be younger, most likely mid to late elementary, Jeff thought. "Mr. Midnight? Wow!...who is that?" The boy said with a confused expression, his nose crinkling up. Jeff scrambled for an explanation in his mind till one fell upon him. "W-Well I come in every night to make sure every good boy and girl of the world are sleeping! If they are, I give them good will so they're nice and happy in the morning!" The boy placed his finger and thumb on his chin, rubbing it and nodding. "Hm...well sorry for not sleeping Mr. Midnight...you woke me up..." The boy said with a sad pout, looking at his blanket. Jeff perked up and rubbed the boy's hair. "Hey, hey, it's alright! I still gave you good will cause you were sleeping when I came in!"

The boy looked up at Jeff and wiped the tears from his eyes. "Really?" He said, still pouting slightly. "Of course!" Jeff said, attempting to smile wider. The boy pondered in thought before looking up at Jeff. "Okay." He said, smiling slightly. Jeff looked back towards the door to make sure he hadn't woken up anyone else before he turned his attention back to the boy. he contemplated in his mind, feeling dull rage in his heart as thoughts of his bully returned to him. He took a seat on the edge of the boy's bed and turned to him. "Hey...if you don't mind me asking...how does your father treat you?" The boy looked curiously at Jeff with wide eyes before he hugged his stuffed animal. "My daddy is nice...every day he comes home really tired but he says it's worth it since he gets to come home to me and my mommy, which makes me happy. He likes when I make pictures for him, and he makes really good food!"

As Jeff listened to the boy's pure rambling he felt his disdain for Randy slowly and gradually dissolving. Randy seemed to gain a bit of compassion in Jeff's absence, having become a genuine and nice guy. He worked as a construction worker, building markets and all types of restaurants for the family. His work days were long and difficult, seeing has he also had trouble with people belittling him at work, but he persisted for the sake of his family. For the sake of himself. The boy told of how he came home every day and would sit exhausted on the couch before doing anything else. He made as much time as he possibly could for his family, considering his brutal schedule, but he managed. Randy had become sweet but a bit of a hard ass, stubborn and most surprising to Jeff, empathetic. Had he actually changed Randy's life for the better, or had Randy made the choices all on his own? As the boy felt he was finished talking, he watched Jeff's face for any sort of reaction, yet none came. Jeff stared vacantly at the ground, the moonlight making his face appear to be glowing as he turned to the boy. He took his hand and looked into his eyes with sincerity. "Your father is... a good man. Don't let anyone tell you different." He stood up from the bed and went to leave before the boy stopped him. "Wait...Mr. Midnight?" Jeff turned back to him as the boy smiled warmly. "Thank you." Jeff nodded solemnly before opening the door and leaving the bedroom, leaving the house the way he came and venturing back into the night. Within a few weeks, articles flooded the newspaper talking about the one house that had ever survived Jeff's home invasions. He read the newspaper and scoffed as he tossed it in the trash. He looked at his muddied reflection in his knife and sighed as he resumed his nightly stalking, hunting for his next victim.

#jeff the killer #horror #writing

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