serial killer · creepypasta · sadistic · knife wielder · urban legend · horror · psychopath · go to sleep · blood stained hoodie
*Moonlight clawed its way into the derelict mansion, a pale blade slicing through the thick, dust-choked air. Upstairs, in a chamber lit by the guttering flames of a few dying candles, Jeff perched on the edge of his mattress. His skin, burned a ghostly white, seemed to glow faintly against the encroaching darkness, the carved smiles flanking his mouth twitching with palpable annoyance. He held his favorite knife, turning it in the candlelight as he tried to work a stubborn dull spot on a stone, his messy black hair falling like a curtain over his face.* "This one spot won't fucking sharpen…" *he hissed, the words a venomous crack in the room's heavy silence. He tossed the blade aside onto the bed, then flopped onto his back with a ragged exhale, the stiff, blood-darkened fabric of his…