Loved By a Killer - A JTK Love Story

Chapter one

PHOENIX'S POV

I was just drifting off to sleep when I felt the warm summer breeze dance across my face. But something didn't feel right; I felt like I was being watched. I reluctantly shook myself awake, looking around my room for anything out of place.

The first thing I noticed was that my window was open, which was weird because I never open my window. I also locked my bedroom door before climbing into bed. I noticed a figure squatting at the very end of my bed...with what looked like a knife. With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I fumbled for the lamp beside my bed and switched it on. I stared in horror at the person crouching mere feet from me. I knew that face.

The paper white skin

The white bloodstained hoodie

The carved smile

The wide, staring eyes.

And that knife.

Jeff the killer.

Fuck.

I shook my head, hoping against hope that this was just a nightmare. Apparently my reaction pleased Jeff, because he laughed, enormously amused, before delivering his favorite line. He placed a finger to his lips.

"Shhh...go to sleep," he said in a quiet, creepy voice, before raising the knife above his head and preparing to bring in down in my chest. I closed my eyes, waiting for the end. A minute passed. Two minutes. The pain never came.

I opened my eyes, wondering why he hadn't struck yet. He was lowering his knife, and I noticed he had a weird expression on his face; it was like shock mixed with disbelief, with a pinch of curiosity. I raised an eyebrow at him, and as I watched he slowly reached toward my face. I flinched back and he slowed down, as if being afraid of scaring me even more. He then proceeded with more caution. I felt his hands, warmer than I expected them to be, cup the side of my face and start stroking across and upward. After a few minutes, I knew what he was doing.

He was stoking my scars, the scars that were left over from a suicide attempt when I wanted to die with a smile on my face. Scars that went across my cheeks and curved upward. Scars that frequently earned me the nickname "The Joker." I just stood there, curiosity mixed with fear. I looked up at him, and my blue eyes met his black

After about five minutes,  he picked up his knife and climbed back on the window ledge. Before he jumped out he turned to me and said "I'm going to take my time with you. What's your name?"

"Phoenix," I replied.

"I'm Jeff," he said.

Without another word, he jumped out the window and ran off.

JEFF'S POV

I chuckled darkly as I stared into the room of my next victim. Twirling my knife between my fingers, I just stood in the tree for a few minutes, just savoring the moment. I noticed she'd left the window unlocked. Hah. Foolish girl. It opened without a sound, and I climbed inside quietly and hopped on her bed just as she was stirring.

When she saw me, a look of pure, delicious terror came over her face and she shook her head, as if unable to believe what she was seeing. I smiled wide(er) as I observed her. I know what you're thinking sweetheart, I thought. This can't be real, right? Well you're wrong, because I am real. We all are, and you disgusting people aren't safe from any of us. 

"Shhh....go to sleep," I said, before rasing my knife above my head. She closed her eyes, as if she was accepting of her fate. I was seconds away from plunging my knife into her chest when I noticed something, something that stopped me dead.

Someone had tried to make her beautiful.

Starting at each corner of her mouth, there were long scars. Scars that went across her cheek and curved upward in a smile. I recognized the formation as a Glasgow Grin scar. She looks like me, I thought.

Almost unconciously, I started reaching my hands toward her face. She flinched as if she expected me to strangle her or something. But I didn't; I gently cupped her face in my hands and started stroking her scars, to see if they were real or just a trick of the light. They were, in fact, real, slightly raised and a little rough to the touch. She leaned her head slightly into my hands, and her eyes met mine. When she did that, I realized I couldn't kill her. More than that, I didn't want to kill her...yet.

I stroked her scars for five minutes, then picked up my knife and climbed back to the window ledge. I turned back to her and found myself saying something I'd never thought I'd say: "I'm going to take my time with you. What's your name?"

"Phoenix," she said.

"I'm Jeff," I said, noticing her slight smile in response. I jumped out the window and ran off.

Phoenix, I thought.