Jeff's Nightmare
It was a normal night for Jeff. He stalked the streets, went to houses he had scoped out for months, killed the occupants, and made a mental map of everything and everyone around him, so as to not get caught.
Tonight was no different. Jeff roamed around in the woods. He walked past one of the giant redwood trees, and, just before he was out of earshot, shouted, "Hey Slendy!" In greeting. "Good evening." Slenderman replied nonchalantly; his attention was focused elsewhere as he strung up the rest of his uneaten victim.
Ahh yes. Tonight was a good night. The smell of rotting flesh as he entered his house was most appealing. "Smile! I'm home!" Jeff called out. The eerie smiling dog bounded over to Jeff and began to growl in content as he scratched behind his ear. "How've you been boy? Well, I think I'll go to sleep now. It's been a long night. See ya in the morning.
Jeff entered his room, closed the door, and pulled off his bloodstained jacket. His bleached white skin shone in the darkness of his room, riddled with scars and gashes that had never gone away. sighing, Jeff dropped the jacket on the floor, before sliding his black jeans off as well. Jeff neared his bed, covers in a heap and blood stains and other unidentifiable substances smeared across the walls came into view. Jeff stetched softly before plopping down on the bed, bouncing a little. He placed his knife on his bedside table and swung his legs up onto the bed. Not even bothering to pull the blankets over himself, Jeff huddled up; knees touching his chin and his hands underneath his head. Jeff lay there for a few moments before his vision dimmed and he slipped into unconsiousness.
Jeff's sleep was fretful and tiresome. He couldn't sleep. Everytime he tried, he'd wake up again. Glancing at the clock told him that it had only been about twenty minutes since he was last awake. This continued for a couple more times, before the serial killer growled softly to himself in frustration, and moved so he was now stretched out and laying on his back. Jeff lay there staring up at his ceiling. A few minutes later, Jeff decided that trying again might not hurt.
As he let his mind empty, getting ready to sleep, Jeff became aware to a small scratching noise, and a slight movement on the edge of his bed. Startled, the killer slowly rose to a sitting position on his mattress, and focused his eyes in the dark to the spot where the sound and movement was coming from. Jeff soon realized that the source of both things, was located behind the heap of blankets on his bed.
Jeff reached his arm over to his bedside table, silently picking up his knife. The killer crouched on his hands and knees as he inched closer to the edge of his bed, knife at the ready. Jeff tentatively peeled the blankets away, then ripped them away at the last second. He stopped.
Sitting on the floor, leaned up against the killer's bed, was a small child. He looked to be about six. The child rocked himself back and forth against the bed, and scratched at the wall next to him. If Jeff could blink in confusion, he would. Jeff staed for a few moments, before a small smile spread across his lips and his eyes turned murderous. Jeff chuckled softly, holding his knife up. "Who the fuck're you.." He whispered. "Why don't you go to sleep..?" Jeff raised the knife above his head, ready to stab the boy, but was stopped by a small voice.
"I can't...", the boy said eeriely. The boy never ceased in his ovements, rocking and scratching nonstop softly.
"Why not." Jeff said darkly. The smile vanished from his lips and the hair on the back of his neck raised; he was getting creeped out. Which wasn't a normal thing for Jeff, making everything seem even creepier. The boy stopped his scratching and rocking abruptly, putting Jeff on edge. Slowly, the boy turned around to face Jeff. His face looked exhausted, dark purple bags hung under his eyes, and his face was very pale. "Because I have insomnia..." The kid whispered creepily.
Jeff's eyes opened in fear and he backed away from the child, scooting to the other side of his bed. The child advanced on him, sliding onto the bed and inching closer and closer to the murderer. "I can't 'Go to sleep' mister." The child's voice seemed to have gotten deeper; more threatening. "I can't Go to sleep," He growled out, taking another step towards Jeff each time he said it. " I can't GO TO SLEEP." The child was now on jeff, faces inches apart. Jeff Stared up in horror, unable to move as the knife was wrenched from his hands and held above himself. "I CAN'T GO TO SLEEP... But you mister.. you can." The knife was pluged downwards and buried deep within Jeff's chest.
Jeff screamed loudly, shooting up out of bed. He touched his chest, making sure there was no stab wound. Sighing, the killer realaxed, and leaned against the wall. He got up and went to get a glass of water, scolding himself for being scared of a silly dream. Jeff sat in a beat up chair, letting the water soothe his parched throat, before heading back to his room. Jeff fell back onto his bed with a groan, and buried his face into the pillow for a few moments. His head turned to the side and stared at his alarm clock. 2:35. It had only been twenty minutes sice he had first fallen asleep. Jeff sighed. He relaxed once more, slowly drifting off again. But before he succumbed to his slumber fully, his foggy brain noticed something odd. Unfortunately, sleep consumed the killer, and he was unable to wake himself up. The last thing he thought of before slipping into unconsiousness was: 'Where is my knife..?'
The room became silent. Then, out of nowhere, tiny scratches could be heard at the foot of the bed.