Ouch.
That was the only thought that went through Annabeth's head as she trudged out of the self-defense class. Today the instructor had been pushing extremely hard, going on and on about how important it was to know how to fight, because...well...
There were killers going around.
"Kids, I have an important announcement to make."
Annabeth perked up. If the self-defense class was closing, her father would be pissed.
"Today we're going to be working extra hard to learn the most efficient self-defense tactics, okay?"
Kara, a sixteen-year-old girl, raised her hand. "Why, Ms. Smithers?"
Their teacher hesitated before replying. "Because...do any of you know about the Creepypastas?"
Annabeth exchanged a baffled look with her friend Ava. Creepypastas? Of course they knew them - they'd learned about it on the news. "Those...special...serial killers? The ones that can't be killed?" Annabeth spoke up. Ms. Smithers nodded. "Yes. Apparently, the number of killings done by their hand has increased dramatically these past few weeks, especially in this region."
The effect was like dropping a hand grenade in the room. No one spoke. Haunted eyes darted around, like the Creepypastas might suddenly appear out of thin air and mass slaughter the class.
"On an interesting note," Ms. Smithers said, "The most killing seems to be being committed by Jeff the Killer."
Annabeth racked her brain. Jeff the Killer, Jeff the Killer, Jeff the Killer, Jeff the Killer...oh. Right. That guy. The one who'd supposedly been burned by bullies, gone insane, cut a smile into his own face, and massacred his whole family.
Yep. Real nice guy.
"How do they know it's him?" Annabeth asked.
"For three reasons," her instructor responded. "For one, Jeff's weapon is a kitchen knife, correct?"
The class nodded.
"Well, most of the victims were killed with multiple stab wounds, in a fashion that only a kitchen knife could make. And also, most of them have a smile carved into their faces, just like Jeff himself, with the words 'Go to sleep' written on the wall in their own blood. 'Go to sleep' is Jeff's catchphrase, according to the authorities."
The situation unsettled Annabeth. Murderous killers that couldn't be killed themselves running rampant through the area? It was enough to make the toughest gang member cry for his mommy. Still, she reasoned, there are lots of people in this region. What's the chance that me or my friends will be one of their victims?
Annabeth winced a little as her arm muscles ached from the immense strain she'd put of them earlier. Even so, it was worth it. She knew a considerable amount of self-defense now, enough to give herself a decent chance of not being raped or killed. That aside, she also had a ballpoint pen up her sleeve, though that was probably just paranoia taking over.
No more worries for today, Annabeth, she chided mentally. You're about to go to a party, so fucking enjoy yourself.
As she stood on the sidewalk, waiting to cross the road to get to the YMCA, a strange voice caught her ear.
(Note: Of course, the voice is deeper since it's I-think-you-know-who's)
I don't wanna die,
I don't wanna die,
I don't wanna die
So you're gonna have to
I don't wanna die,
I don't wanna die,
No I don't wanna die
So you're gonna have to
Blood is getting hotter
Body's getting colder
I've told you once,
I'm the only one who holds her
I don't wanna die,
I don't wanna die,
I don't wanna die
So you're gonna have to
The hair on Annabeth's neck immediately stood on end at the singing voice. She recognized that song - I Don't Wanna Die by Hollywood Undead. She used to be obsessed with it, and though she still liked it today, it didn't really drive her crazy like it had back then.
It wasn't the song itself that unnerved her, though. It was the voice. The sound of that voice just sent shivers down her spine, set alarm bells off in her head, and every instinct in her body screamed, DANGER!
Straining her eyes, Annabeth made out a figure about twenty yards away from her. It was about 6'2, nearly a threatening ten inches taller than her. From what Annabeth could figure, the top of her head would reach to about...say, his chin?
Whoever the guy was, he was wearing skinny black jeans and black combat boots. He had on a white hoodie, it's hood yanked fully over his head, obscuring his face from view. This was the type of guy who'd send any delinquent on a run for his money. But most disturbing of all...he kind of resembled that Jeff the Killer dude, with the same white hoodie, black jeans, and black combat boots, and the same tall, toned physique. Surely it couldn't actually be him, right?
Whatever. Annabeth decided. She didn't know and didn't really want to know. Her mother had told her never to let anyone push her around, but Annabeth was sure she hadn't meant Pick a fight with any random guy. If this creep bothered her, she's bite back. If he left her alone, she'd leave him alone.
As the cars stopped at the red light, Annabeth took the opportunity to hurry across the street. Making it to the other side, she reached the YMCA, excitement and anticipation flowing through her body. A party! She was going to a party!
Unbeknownst to the girl, the mysterious man's eyes followed her body the entire time, his gaze running appreciatively over her curves. Part of him wanted to go over there and confront the bitch right now, but that would spoil the fun, now wouldn't it?
That didn't make her situation any better, though. That girl belonged to him. He'd chosen her a month ago, and he had no intention of letting go.
You can't run from me, doll.
And there we have it. This story just sucks more and more, doesn't it? O_O
If you are patient enough to read this piece of crap, thanks so much. *hugs*
See you guys soon!~