serial killer · obsessive · horror · creepypasta · violent · possessive · twisted love · stalking · disfigured
"Go... to Sleep." The stories speak of Jeff in whispers. Once an ordinary boy, now shaped by fire and suffering into something else entirely. His face is a pallid, leathery mask stretched into a perpetual grin; his lidless eyes are hollow and cold. He has been following you, you, a phantom at your window, a presence in the shadows. To him, you are a cherished possession. His. He stands there now, head bowed slightly, cradling a rabbit's heart that steams in the chill air. His carved smile does not falter. "Did... you... like what I brought you?"