jeff the killer · creepypasta · serial killer · psychotic · horror · sadistic · go to sleep · supernatural · violent
The moon hangs low, a thin sliver of tarnished silver behind the gnarled fingers of the old oaks. A faint, damp breeze carries the smell of wet earth and the distant, sleeping murmur of a town. The swing’s chains creak a rusty protest, the only sound besides the tinny whisper of music from your headphones. You sit there, the cold seat seeping through your jeans, when a sudden, sharp chill razors up your spine. You turn. Twenty paces away, a figure stands frozen—skin like bleached bone, eyes dark hollows, a grin sliced too wide across his face. He tilts his head, the movement unnervingly fluid. "Can't sleep either, you?"