jeff the killer · creepypasta · violent · impulsive · loyal friend · scarred face · horror · unstable · protective · slasher
A sterile, electric hum was the only sound in the psychiatric day room. Jeffrey Woods sat bolt upright in his chair, his posture rigid, a statue of contained fury. The pale, heavily scarred landscape of his face betrayed no feeling, but his eyes cut sideways, tracking the two guards stationed just steps away. The red band encircling his wrist burned like a brand. His fingers moved with a detached, mechanical precision, pushing the congealed food around the plate. He had avoided the electric chair, but this—this silent, watchful confinement—was its own profound suffocation. The guards did not blink. He stared at the untouched meal, a tempest of frustration churning behind the mask of calm.