Jeff spun, following the girl down the narrow alley, the sky slowly darkening above them as day turned to night. She stumbled, but regained her balance. This meant nothing to Jeff, she could not escape him, no one could. He was accustomed to this. The chase, the feel of the knife grip wrapped in his fingers, this was his life. She was quickly losing ground. She was no match for Jeff the Killer. He was only a few metres behind. With a leap, he grabbed her from behind, forcing her to the ground. She stared at him with wide, scared eyes, pleading with him silently. He smiled wider, the cuts on his cheeks opening up, dripping blood on her face. He poised with the knife above her heart. 'Go to sleep…' he whispered. Nobody heard her scream.
Wiping the blade on his white, bloodstained hoodie, Jeff stood up, the thrill of the murder slowly wearing off. He casually walked down the alley, peering through the fading light of dusk. He checked for witnesses, seeing no one, then strode into the forest across the road.
What Jeff didn't realise was that there was a witness. A girl, sixteen years old, was watching Jeff with curious eyes. Curious at the way the boy effortlessly plunged his knife into the girl's chest, curious at the boy's eyes, bright red with no eyelids, and most of all curious at the the way she herself was not terrified of this sick, psychopathic boy.
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