Tonight was one of those night. He could feel it in his, pulsing through his veins. He could hear sweet sound of faint screams in the wind as it drifted through his ears. He could see red in the white moon, like blood trickling down pale skin as his knife dug and dragged through it. The knife stood as his brush, the skin as his canvas, the blood as his paint. And like an Artist to a painting, he would dab and stroke until they were beautiful.
So, why was it he was standing outside of your house this night? Sneering at your laughing form through your bedroom window? No, not because you were happy, of course. But because of what you were being brought joy from.
His jaw clenched and his sneer deepened as you let out and overly round of laughs - like you were rubbing it in his face, like you knew he could see you - as you clutched your stomach and the phone, tightly. His own grip mimicked the action shortly after, only onto his knife. He ignored the pain as the blade dug into his palm, ignoring the wetness that would stain his hoodie.
Now, before the story gets to far, is it such a sin for him to take what's his until the end of time? You were more than friends, before the story ends, and he will take what's his.
His grip tightened around the knife, digging it deeper and he started to make his way towards you back door. The screams seemed to get louder, his blood pumped with anger as he reached towards the knob. His pale hand stopped on the knob, his pale white skin seemed to glow under the moon. Those screams in the air, they sounded so much like yours. His cut out smile got wider as one grew on his lips. His black hair moving behind him as he moved with the opening door, making sure not to make a sound so you wouldn't know.
He quietly closed the door behind him, the deranged smile still present on his face as he walked forward towards the living room. He knew your parents were out of town for a few days. He had you alone, with him, so defenseless. His bloodied hand slid out from his pocket, the blood dripping onto the floor. He drug his hand along the wall as he made his way up, slowly, quietly, not wanting to alarm you.
Your love had been so strong for far too long, he was weak with fear that something would go wrong.
His bloodied hand, slid back into his pocket as he rounded up onto the bedroom door he had been through so many times, he could remember them all as he leaned his ear up against the door. He could remember you laughing because of him. He could hear you saying his name. He could remember the way you moaned because of him. But all that was ruined, he was brought back by the sound of your angelic laughter because of that stupid new friend of yours.
He heard you say one last thing and another sweet laugh, before you hung up. He could hear rustles from inside the room. He knew you were getting ready for bed, you weren't expecting him. Not until tomorrow at least. But he would do this now. He needed to do this now. When he heard no more rustling in the room, he slowly turned the knob and pushed the door opened. His hand gripped tightly around the handle of his knife as he gazed over your form, laying on the bed, still oblivious to the fact he was in the room.
He walked across the floor, coming up besides the bed, still staring intently at your resting person. He fiddled with the knife in his pocket. He didn't want to do this, not to you, but there was no other way to keep you. So he thought. You were his and only his. He wouldn't lose you.
You quickly turned around and sat up, staring up at Jeff with a surprised, but happy look. He almost caved, looking at you the way you were now. The light shinning in your eyes, the glow of the moon reflecting of your hair creating a halo, the smile on your face all forhim.
But he couldn't take the chance. So before the possibility came true..
He leaned over and despite your confused face he always found so adorable, he pressed his cut up lips to yours, in a sweet, loving kiss. Or as sweet and loving some one such as him could make a kiss seem. And you wasted no time in kissing him back. His hand slip up your arm, to your neck, then tangling it's self in your hair. He used his grip to pull your face closer, making the kiss more passionate. He ignored the fact your hands flew up to tangle in his, as the hand in his pocket slowly pulled out the knife. He didn't want to alarm you of his movements as he felt the sharp weapon brush against his side as the rest of it slipped out. Your eyes were closed and his, never blinking, went down towards the knife as it moved forward. He felt no guilt, only relief as he knew you would never be able to leave him soon. You would always be his. The tip of the blade stopped moving just inches from your stomach.
He took all possibility from you.
He gripped your mouth tighter to his as you let out a scream, when the blade pierced through your belly, the warmth of your blood ran along his hands and splashed onto his hoodie. He could feel the grip tighten on his hair and the warm tears stream down your face, he could feel against his pale cheeks. He pulled his mouth from yours and shoved you down on the bed, the blade sliding out as your flew back. His hand quickly covered your mouth, as another scream released. You shook as you looked up at him, seeing a new glint in his eyes as he stared down at you. You have never been afraid of Jeff, but now you were terrified.
He leaned down, bringing the knife with him, poking your stomach with the tip of it. His lips became level with your ear and if this had been any other situation, you would have jumped him at the sound of his voice and his breath tickling your ear. "You are mine and you will always be mine. No one else's."
You let out another muffled scream and you searing pain into your stomach, you started to thrash and shake as the knife twisted and repeated it's process once again. You started to feel cold, the only warmth coming from Jeff and the blood gushing out of your new wounds. Finally you had felt your fist connect with something and that something cracked. you had punched Jeff's nose. He flew back, bringing the knife with him as he held his nose with his free hand. A string a curses started flying out of his mouth.
And as weak as you were, this would be your only chance to try and escape. You tried to scramble up quickly, only to scream and clutch your stomach while doing so. This caused the blood flow from your deep wounds to gush stronger, your bedding, top, skin and pajama shorts now becoming stained. You stood up on your feet and wobbled and you tried to your best to get to the door and open it. The blood seeping through your fingers as you neared the door. You heard a loud, frustrated growl and didn't need to look back to know who it was.
He watched, still holding his nose in pain as you fumbled with a bloody hand to open the door knob and finally winning that battle. You were always a feisty one with a strong punch and that's one of the reasons he had fallen for you. You were strong, but right now, that only pissed him off. He watched with flaming eyes as you quickly stumbled out the door, trying to scream. He ignored the pain in his nose as he stomped out after you, the door was swung back at him, only to have it be busted off his hinges by the same man.
"Come here you fucking bitch!"
>He roared as he jumped down the stairs after you, ignoring the fact he almost slipped from your blood. He rounded into the kitchen to find you panting against a wall, your eyes half lidded and you breathing extremely heavy. He looked down at your stomach, watching in twisted satisfaction as the blood flowed out of them and down your body.
As he walked tauntingly slow, closer to you, you knees started to wobble. They almost gave out until a hand wrapped itself around your neck. Causing you to gasp for air and groan. You looked through blurry eyes at Jeff's face.
His nose was broken and he had blood coming out of it. Running down over his lips, dripping form his chin. The glint now only stronger in his eyes, his grip tightened as you tried to talk. You felt the cold tip of his knife press up against your chest, right where you barely holding on, thumping organ was. You were to tired to fight, but still strong enough to cry but that didn't seem to stop him as he rammed the blade through.
He watched as your eyes went wide and you convulsed, then you coughed, your warm, sticky blood spraying onto his face. His smile grew wider as your jerking stopped and your eyes glazed over, lingering on his face. The light left your eyes, all signs of life had gone from your body and he felt it growing cold, despite the blood still pouring from your wounds.
You were his and he made sure you knew that.
Now you could never leave him, you would be with him forever.
And the last thing you saw before you died, was his blood covered, crazed smile, beautiful, face.
He let go of your neck and watched as your limp body dropped to the floor with a loud thud, the knife still prodding from your chest. Your hazed eyes, staring straight ahead. He clutched his head as his smile grew to the point his carves started to bleed. He griped his hair tight, and threw his head back, letting out a loud, maniacal laugh that would send chills down the spine of even the most mental serial killer.
And he took one last look over at you before he ran a bloodied hand over his dirty face. He pulled up his hood and kicked out your patio door. The sickening smile still present on his face as he walked away from your house and not a worry in the world was left on his mind.