(Jeff's POV)
A chuckle - probably around the fifteenth - escaped my throat as my eyes roved over the girl lying slumped on my bed for the millionth time. I couldn't get enough of looking at her - she was purely addictive. This was only made stronger by the fact that she was now mine.
I liked the sound of that.
Mine.
Mine.
Mine.
You're mine, Annabeth Blackburn.
Ugh...
Annabeth tried to force her eyes to open, but as she attempted it, an insane headache seemed to be threatening to split her head open. Surrendering to the pain, she briefly ceased her attempts before trying again. After a whole lot of pain, she managed to crack them open, only to have them flutter shut again.
Goddamn it.
Cue attempt after attempt after attempt...after attempt.
Finally, finally (it felt like a millennium had passed), the teen got her eye muscles to obey her and open.
Where.... The world blurred for a second before coming into focus, and Annabeth realized that she was staring up at a ceiling that was most certainly not her own.
Emily...then Jeff...
That's right!
Everything flooding back to her in a torrent of memories, Annabeth sat bolt upright. Once again, she probably looked like a zombie, but that was the very, very least of her worries. She was in a twin disheveled bed with coarse black sheets. The fabric of the blankets scratches against her arms, and she wondered how anyone could bear to sleep on this.
"Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty ~" cooed an all-too-familiar voice.
With a mental scream of horror, frustration, and just "this is bullshit", Annabeth swiveled her head eighty-one degrees to the left. Her eyes fell on the last person she wanted to see - her most hated enemy.
Jeff the Killer.
Though he was difficult to make out in the dim moonlight streaming through the window, Annabeth didn't need to see his face. She'd already memorized every inch of it because it'd popped up so many fucking times in her head.
She wanted to say something, anything to show that she wasn't afraid, but nothing came to her. I'm not afraid of you? You won't get away with this? Let me go or I'll kill you?
They would all be lies, and Jeff knew that. She despised him all the more for it.
The best she could come up with was a half-whisper, half-snarl. "Jeff."
The killer raised his eyebrows and smirked. "That's me, doll."
Annabeth ground her back teeth together, fighting the urge to punch that arrogant look on his face. Calm down, Annabeth. Calm. Down.
Managing to restrain herself, she spat out, "What the fuck do you want?"
Silence.
Jeff lowered his head, the strands of his charred black hair shielding his icy eyes from view. Annabeth narrowed her eyes. Was this his latest trick? No...she'd seen this somewhere before...
His broad shoulders started shaking erratically, making the chair he was slumped casually in rock violently. It's unsteady legs creaked in protest against the hard floor, but no one alive in the room noticed it, the killer too busy having his fit, and the victim too busy watching said fit.
A mad giggled split the air in the room, seeming to drop the temperature about a hundred degrees, though no thermometer could have detected it. The change wasn't real - it was all in Annabeth's head. Nevertheless, goosebumps broke over her skin, making her shiver. His laugh was so...
So...
The chuckle grew in volume and strength until it had evolved into a unbalanced, deranged, manic laugh. "What do I want?" Jeff giggled. "What do I want? I'm disappointed, sweetcheeks. I thought you were smarter than this. Obviously, what I want is..." he trailed off, letting the suspense, the anticipation, the apprehension grow tense, painful, agonizing. At least to the girl. The killer was basking in it.
"You."
I apologize for how short the chapter is. I would've extended it, but I haven't updated in a while, and I didn't have much time to write (or type). This seemed like a pretty good ending point, so, yeah.
As usual, thanks for reading, and I'll see you guys soon!
P.S.
Peace! XD