Novel & Cerita Jeff The Killer Creepypasta Story

She turns herself around as she found herself a vacant table, with her eyes still on me, I focused on the next customer in line and tried not to mind Elaine who was sitting right in front of the counter. Hi, my name is Sef Janessa Addison. Well people around me call me Jeff, and I really don't know why, they have their reasons though. They said Sef sounds like a man's name while Janessa is too long, and so they stick up with Jeff (which totally makes me sound and look like a brute). I'm attending Jameson University, which is where everyone is an elite. Sometimes I really feel like I don't belong there but for my dream, I've learned to deal with it. Cinderellas of today do not rely on their P

Connor shook his head and walked out. Jeffery remained in his same position, his eyes staring ahead, at nothing in particular. He remembered his sweet princess, she used to say she'd marry him when they grew up, he remembered one particular memory that was imprinted in his head, she got a cat and it licked her lips, she cried her eyes out and asked the maid to burn it, Jeffery was shocked, she had cried for it to be bought for her and now she wanted it dead?

“You okay? You okay? Tell me you’re okay.” I shook, a laugh ripping out of me half- hysterical, half-grief. “I’m fine. We can’t let her keep doing this,” I said. I sounded small. I felt small. But the fear under that smallness was hot and controlled. “She’s taking them and she’s sucking the life from everyone she can, Jeff. She’s a priestess. She’s been hiding it.” He did not argue. He only looked at me like I’d just told him the world would end tomorrow. He swallowed and turned his back toward the cave as if to make sure nothing else would drag me back.

He laughed, shaking his head. "Mr. Jeffers, I promise you this is real. I've done the research, and what I find most intriguing is Darick 'The Bloodthirsty’, leader of The Brooklyn Blood Brothers, has done some horrible things that’ll surely make the front page,” I explained, trying to keep my voice even. "Such as…?" Mr. Jeffers waved his hand, motioning for me to continue. "Rumor has it that he leaves gruesome bite marks on the neck of his victims," I whispered, hoping the suspense would win Mr. Jeffers over. “Vampiristic marks.”

moment I knew I was safe with Jeff and knew he was serious about protecting me. I let it all out, I told him everything I knew. Everything that had happened leading up to Ketzias murder and even about my recurring dream that was really a memory. He listened quietly and asked very minimal questions. Once I was done I let out a sigh of relief. Telling Jeff all of this made me feel a bit better and it was like a weight was lifted off my shoulders. I wasn’t in this alone and that made it easier to breath. After I was done I expected him to freak out a bit about all this supernatural nonsense but he took it all in and acted like it was a normal Tuesday. He was asking me how the fire started but

Its jaw slacked and released its hold. Jeff jerked his head at the sound of a resounding thump, then realized it was his heart. His vision tunneled, and a pressure buzzed inside his head. Oh my god! Pakora! He looked down at the cat in horror. I’ve never killed anything larger than a bug before, much less someone’s pet! He fumbled with the key in his palm as it slickened with sweat. The world spun, reminding Jeff of a carnival ride from childhood. Once, Preston and some other kids asked Jeff if the sideshow workers abandoned him. It made him feel like a monster.

In that moment, getting to Victor was all that mattered. The door to Jeff's room—the room directly above the living room—was already unlocked, so she threw it open. Jeff was lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood. His face had been slashed with five straight lines like the claws of some giant creature had ripped into him to the point where he was barely recognizable, but she knew it was him. Blood streamed down either side of his mouth, and there was a massive, gaping hole in his chest where his heart had once been.