Jeff The Killer X Slenderman Novels & Stories

He had been a promising kid, fast with a blade and loyal to a fault. Now, he was a corpse. In a bid to humiliate him, they sat his body upright, his head lolling back against the chair, his eyes wide and vacant, staring at nothing. "My God, Uncle. Look at his chest," Nathaniel whispered. I stepped closer, my jaw tightening until it ached. Stefan’s designer shirt, once white, was now a deep, matted crimson. But it was what was pinned to the shirt that caught my eye.

Mindy hurried excitedly to answer it, and three dubious-looking men in shabby costumes walked through the door. The moment I saw their leader, a man with a large mole on his face, the blood in my veins went cold, and my fingernails dug deeply into my palms. It was them! In my past life, these three "exorcists" took Mindy's money and struck me to death with a so-called holy scepter drenched in dog's blood! Suppressing the murderous rage surging inside me, I lowered my head obediently and stepped aside. The fake exorcists entered the bedroom and theatrically circled Sam's bed, before a mole-faced man slapped his thigh dramatically.

“You’re a good person.” Jeff’s laughter was foreign even to his own ears. “Really?” A surge of energy empowered him. His transformation seemed deeper now, beyond the surface. There was a rush inside him. “But I’m not a person at all, remember?” He slashed Preston’s forehead, and blood trickled from the gash, diluted with rainwater. “I’m a monster!” Preston went to cover the bleeding, but Jeff climbed on him, restraining his hands. “You know,” he said, pointing a claw in Preston’s open palm. “I should thank you.”

“You're treating me like trash, Jeff. I came to you with my grievances, and you promised to help me. The first attempt didn’t yield a thing, so what next?! I want Jessica White dead. What is stopping you from killing her?” A masculine voice I assume belongs to Jefferson, and lets out a gruff laughter. “You are so naïve and clueless. What was I expecting anyway? The daughter of a murderer will always long for blood even though she can't even wield a sword.” “Oh, please, getting rid of that girl is not hard-” “Why don’t you do it yourself, then?” Jefferson snaps. “Huh? Rhea Luther, if you think it's just ABC, then do your dirty work yourself!”

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, this case is straightforward." He began pacing slowly. "The defendant had both motive and opportunity. She was actively searching for the deceased on the night of his death. She was the last known family member attempting to locate him and it is well known that she ran away from her home at an early age." He looked towards my direction. "And before the end of this trial, we shall prove beyond reasonable doubt that Dr. Karma Kuntz murdered her father." He returned to his seat. "The State calls Mr. Viktor Schneider." A middle-aged man in an expensive charcoal suit approached the witness stand. He took the oath before sitting.

“Tsk, you could do something bad to me.” Jeff smiled slightly because his intelligent brain was indeed devising brilliant ideas to rape Cylo until he could no longer walk normally. But seeing his condition, it seemed he had to postpone his brilliant plan for now. His focus now was to introduce himself to this hired killer. “Okay, let's talk.” Jeff stared at Cylo, who wasn't looking at him. “My name is Jefford William Ricardo. I am the leader of the Black Wolf mafia, and I am very interested in you, Cylo.”

All I had was the truth, and the tiny, breathing reality in my arms. The light from the Reaper intensified, then collapsed inward with a sound like a universe sighing. Where the massive construct had been, a single figure now stood, knee-deep in the dust. Jeff. He looked exactly as he had in the penthouse. The same face, the same eyes. He was dressed in simple, dark clothes, but they looked out of place, a costume. He was a creature of pure energy wearing the skin of a man. He took a step forward, then another, his movement unnervingly smooth. He didn't seem to walk so much as translate across the space between us. In moments, he was standing before me, close enough to touch.

said a third guy with a voice that could be mistaken for that of a masculine female. “You didn’t need to kill the old woman,” Jeff said as he walked up to her body and nudged it with his work shoe. “She wasn’t supposed to be here,” said the deeper male voice that they later learned was Jeff’s father. “She recognized me from that summer we spent buddying up to Joe.” “Are you sure there’s even a shadow walker here?” Jeff asked. “I remember when Joe found out you were part of the APM. He asked to join.”