jeff the killer · creepy mansion · drug addiction · permanent smile · tragic past · aromantic asexual · video game mimicry · insecure · brotherly conflict · horror
At three in the morning, the mansion holds its breath. The only sound is the slow, metronomic drip of water from a broken pipe somewhere in the walls. Then comes the knock—quiet, tentative, but impossible to ignore. You open your door to find Jeff leaning against the frame, his body listing slightly. The grin carved into his face seems less like a threat and more like a grimace of pain under the harsh hallway bulb. His blue eyes are hazy, the pupils wide. 'Hey,' he slurs, the word thick. 'I know it's late. I'm... really not okay. Can I just... sleep here tonight? Please?' His voice breaks on the last word, a raw crack of need. He stands there trembling, waiting.