It’s one of those nights where you just
can’t seem to enter that final stage when deep sleep embraces you. You turn over and over, drifting in and out
of consciousness, having strange, nightmarish thoughts during your microsleeps. The day was oppressively hot and humid, so
you left the window cracked to get a breeze and now the curtains seem to expand and contract,
like lungs filling with the air. It’s kind of relaxing to watch... until
you see something. Were those eyes peeping through the curtains? Your heart begins to race. Is this the creep you’d heard rumors about,
the deranged serial killer known as Jeff the Killer that is still on the loose? No, you must have been dreaming. You rub your eyes and take another look. Squinting through the dark you see a ghoulish,
monstrous face looking straight at you as he slowly pulls himself through your opened
window. In the morning your bed will be empty…In
the weeks to come you’ll be just another statistic, another missing kid, one of thousands
of young folks that go missing in the USA each year. In time your family will give up hope of ever
seeing you again. You have become one of the 115 children that
year whose disappearance has been officially recorded as a “stranger abduction”. It’s true that every year scores of young
people just vanish into thin air. Sometimes they go out and don’t come home…sometimes
they are at the shopping mall with their parents and just disappear, never to be seen again…sometimes
they are snatched from their beds during the night. There are real-life boogeymen out there, maniacs
on the loose, skulking around quiet neighborhoods. So who is Jeff the Killer? Is he responsible for those unexplained abductions? Is he even real? Moving to a new place in your teens isn’t
much fun at all. You make friends and then you have to abandon
them, but for Jeff and his brother Liu, the move wasn’t so difficult to accept. The new house was fancy to say the least and
the neighborhood didn’t look too bad, either. No sooner than Jeff, Liu, and their parents
got the new house in order, the nosey neighbors came around to say hello and check out who’d
they be loving or hating in the next year or so. To break the ice, one of the neighbors invited
the family to a birthday party. The neighbor, Barbara, explained that her
son, Billy, was about to have a birthday party. Jeff’s mom, Margaret, said her husband Peter,
as well as the kids, would love to go. At this point Jeff and Liu were in the background
listening, both of them feeling kind of peeved that their parents had agreed on their behalf
to go to the party of some kid they didn’t even know. Young Jeff had always had a problem with authority,
and he was quick to tell his mom that she shouldn’t do stuff like that. He stormed off in a huff, retreating to his
bedroom where he threw himself down on his bed and sulked. In that moment of teenage angst he felt something
really strange inside of him, like his very own pear of anguish…an acute pain in his
stomach. He felt hypnotized by his own anger. “How dare she do that,” he thought. He then came out of this enraged trance, not
really knowing what had come over him. The same thing happened again the next morning
as he was hastily eating a bowl of MultiGrain Peanut Butter Cheerios. It was something in his stomach, this time
a grinding pain, and there was that feeling of rage again. He didn’t know if he liked it or not. Maybe it was just moving stress, anxiety about
going to a new school, meeting new kids…Some of them were bound to be jerks, that was for
sure. He realised he was gripping his spoon so hard
his knuckles were white. He was trembling with anger. But Jeff’s anxieties were justified that
morning at the school bus stop. Some wise ass kid did an ollie on his skateboard
right over Jeff and Liu’s legs. Had he messed that up he could have snapped
one of their legs like a twig. Jeff didn’t know it then, but this was the
beginning of the end. The skateboarder was soon joined by two other
kids, and in true Steven King fashion, there was one cool kid, the skateboarder whose name
was Randy, a nerdy-looking dude named Keith and an obese kid whose name was Troy. These kids would become Jeff's mortal enemies,
his bete noires. In literal French that means “black beasts”. “Well, look what’s been dragged into the
neighborhood," said Randy. “A couple of new freaks to kick around for
a while.” The fat kid guffawed, but the skinny nerdy-looking
kid just stood there motionless. Randy explained to Jeff and Liu that as new
kids on the block there was a tax to pay, call it bus fare, and intimidatingly he got
right up in Liu’s face. Liu stood his ground, pushing Randy back,
but in a moment of outlandish anger, the fat kid whipped out a knife. Randy turned to his two bootlicker friends
and said, “Well, it looks like these two kids are gonna have to learn the hard way.” The fat kid wielded the knife right in front
of Liu’s face, and proceeded to rifle through Liu’s pockets. He then passed a wallet to Randy. All the time Liu was thinking how inconceivable
it was for three kids in a wealthy and quiet suburban American neighborhood to mug him
and his brother on their way to school. Jeff just sat there, boiling, raging, on the
verge of exploding. That devilish feeling again filled his guts…he
felt possessed with anger, and he finally stood up and growled at Randy, “You give
that wallet back to ma bro or I’ll knock the teeth right out of your friggin head.” Jeff was seething, and before Randy could
respond physically or come up with a smart retort, he punched Randy square in the nose,
shattering it like porcelain. Liu hadn’t seen Jeff do that before, but
he was even more surprised when his younger brother grabbed Randy’s finger and snapped
it. Jeff took Randy’s knife, but soon skinny-Keith
and portly-Troy were on his back. Lightweight Keith took a stabbing for the
team and went down like a sack of bricks. Jeff pushed Troy off him and hit him so hard
in the stomach that Troy threw up as he crawled on the floor. The scene was a massacre. Liu had never seen anything like that before
from his brother. “Man, bro, what the hell’s got into you?” The two ran to school rather than get the
bus. Jeff looked behind and he could see people
out in the street attending to the wounded kids. Did he feel remorse that day as he sat in
class listening to a teacher talk about verb conjugation? No, he felt the opposite. He felt alive. He felt the violence in his very marrow. He loved violence. This was a new discovery for him. Part II: Jeff The Maniac
Jeff got home that evening and his mom asked him how school was, to which Jeff replied,
“Awesome”, as the sweet memory of the beating and the smell of someone else’s
blood filled his senses. But as things tend to go, Jeff wasn’t exactly
off the hook for executing what the justice system calls a serious assault…not to mention
using a deadly weapon on a child. The cops turned up at Jeff’s house and explained
that their son’s outstanding wrath had caused some serious injuries to three kids that lived
in the neighborhood. Jeff, as stubborn as ever, explained to the
cops and his distraught parents that he’d been the victim of violence and he had only
retaliated in a comparable fashion. “Comparable!,” said one of the cops, “I’ve
got two kids in the hospital with stab wounds and another kid that looks like he’s been
kicked in the stomach by a race horse.” Jeff had to try really hard not to smile… He bit his lip. What could he do, though, the game was up. There were witnesses…there was forensic
evidence. “Ok,” said Jeff, “It was me…but I
was only sticking up for my bro. Those guys pulled out the knife first, I just
finished it.” Jeff was already thinking about spending a
year in what he’d heard was nicknamed “Gladiator School” when his brother Liu came rushing
down the stairs. With the knife in his hands, Liu shouted,
“It was me. Don’t arrest my brother.” Liu put down the knife and the cops cuffed
him, all the while Jeff was telling them that Liu was lying, that it was he who was at fault
for the bus stop carnage. As his brother was taken away in the cop car,
Jeff sat in the driveway weeping. What had he done… For days, Jeff stayed in his bed with the
curtains closed. He couldn’t go to school, he couldn’t
even sleep. He just lay in bed depressed, feeling as if
darkness had chosen him, abused him, manipulated him. After a few days, something unbelievable happened. His mom waltzed into his bedroom as if nothing
had happened... as if she hadn’t just lost a son to a brutal penal system, possibly for
many years. She just whipped back the curtains and jovially
exclaimed to Jeff, “Guess what day it is?” “What the …” thought Jeff, “Has this
woman lost her mind.” “It’s party day,” said his mom, “You
remember... before all that nonsense with the knives, we were invited to Billy’s birthday
bash.” Jeff was rather displeased with his mom’s
patent lack of empathy. “C’mon Jeff,” she said, “So, your
brother’s gone for a while…don’t let that spoil an otherwise beautiful sunny day. You'll always be my beautiful son, let's go
have some fun." For some reason, Jeff didn't like being called
beautiful. He noticed she’d really gone overboard with
her clothes. She was dressed to impress. This bugged him even more. When the family arrived at Barbara’s house,
Jeff noticed that all the adults were wearing fancy clothes, all of them, it seemed, were
trying to impress each other. Some of them were noticeably drunk already,
talking loudly about their many accomplishments and the wonderful, talented children they’d
brought into this world. “Go in the yard and play with the other
kids,” Jeff’s mom said. This would prove to be foolhardy, given Jeff’s
track-record so far with kids in the neighborhood. And then it happened, just as Jeff was starting
to get along with the children. Randy, Keith and Troy appeared, still looking
a bit beaten up, but no doubt ready for another round with the new kid. Randy said, “You didn’t think this was
done didya…it aint done by a long way.” Again, Jeff was reminded of countless teenage
movies he’d seen. What ensued was a one-on-one with Randy and
Jeff. Jeff headbutted Randy, breaking his recently
fixed nose yet another time. Blood splattered on the faces of the younger
kids, sending them running around the garden in hysterics. A small kid froze, and as a teddy bear dropped
from his hands you could see a wet patch form and expand on the front of his Spongebob shorts. Jeff got the better of Randy, but then the
two goons pulled out guns. This was unheard of in that neighborhood. Even some of the parents were now running
into the distance shouting, “Someone call 911”. Jeff couldn’t do anything with guns pointed
at him, and before he knew it Randy stabbed him with a knife. Troy and Keith laughed like the goofs they
were, and then Randy just started beating Jeff to a pulp. He dragged Jeff into the kitchen, whereupon
he picked up a bottle of vodka and smashed it on Jeff’s head. But Jeff didn’t fight back. He took every punch, every kick. His face was dripping blood, a shard of glass
was sticking out of his head…his stomach was punctured... but he didn’t fight back. “C’mon,” said Randy, “Hit me…fight
back.” Jeff just took more shots to the face, but
he didn’t retaliate. To try and light that fire again in Jeff,
Randy shouted, “Your bro’s some dude’s girl right now, and that’s all because of
me…FIGHT ME!” PART III: Jeff Snaps
And that was it, that was the final straw. Jeff felt that rage build up inside of him
again. He lurched at Randy like a rabid lion. He pushed him down and smothered him with
his incredible strength. Randy was helpless. Jeff drew back his fist and punched Randy
right in the heart. A shocked look appeared on Randy’s face,
like he’d just seen the devil himself. He took one last breath, blood bubbled from
his mouth, and he died there and then. The parents still there couldn’t believe
what they had witnessed. They were children…children that had become
feral, animalistic, beastial... Keith and Troy now turned their guns on Jeff. They fired and missed. Jeff ran up the stairs past parents now in
a state of shock, their faces whiter than the new ceramic tiles on the kitchen floor. Now out of bullets, Troy and Keith pulled
knives out on Jeff, but soon Jeff had his own weapon…a towel rack. He cracked Troy’s balloon sized head with
the rack, knocking him clean out. Skinny Keith realized he was probably now
out of his depth, but it was too late. There was nowhere to run. They were both in the bathroom fighting, and
suddenly they hit a shelf and a bottle of bleach fell on them. Inexplicably, the bleach was opened, and both
boys were covered in the stuff. Keith screamed as the bleach burned his face,
and that’s when Jeff caved Keith’s wiry face in with his handy towel rack. As Keith lay on the floor, not far from death,
he smiled. “Funny eh,” said Jeff, somewhat nonplussed
even though he was no stranger to strangeness. “Look at you,” mumbled Keith through bloodied
broken teeth. “You’ve been doused in bleach and vodka.” Keith’s last effort to beat that new kid
was to throw a cigarette lighter at Jeff. Jeff burst into flames, and screaming he ran
downstairs and through the house. He was a ball of flames, a human inferno. Parents stood back in horror. Jeff collapsed, and that’s the last thing
he remembered about that day. PART IV: Jeff the Killer
The next thing Jeff knew he was lying in a hospital bed and he couldn’t move. Almost his entire body was covered with bandages. Suddenly he heard, “He’s awake.” It was that familiar voice of his overbearing
mother, but this time he was pleased she was by his side. “Jeff,” she said, “Liu is out…witnesses
told the police that Randy had first produced the knife…Your brother is free. We are going home, a family again.” Jeff felt a twinge of relief, but it was hard
to be happy when his body was covered in third, second and first degree burns. He tried to smile, and then realized that
he had no lips to smile with. His mother saw her son’s pain. “Good news, though, eh, Jeff…every cloud
has a silver…” She didn’t finish her sentence, this time
being self-aware enough not to be chirpy in a horrible situation. Sometime later, both Jeff’s parents were
there when his final bandage had to be pulled off. “This is going to hurt a bit,” the doctor
told Jeff. As those final bandages unfurled from Jeff’s
face, he was taken aback by the sheer horror painted on his parent’s faces. They were trying to suppress their disgust,
but something hardwired into their brains wouldn’t allow them to hide their terror. Jeff asked for a mirror. The doctor told him, “Just start with one
part of your face, and then move to another part. This might come as some shock to you, but
you’ll soon get used to it.” Jeff didn’t take that advice, and instead
just grabbed the mirror. For seconds, minutes, he stared into that
mirror, moving his head from side to side, studying every angle. His parents were waiting for him to cry, to
scream, to collapse in shock, but as Jeff kept on looking at his new face, a white,
leathery face, a face without eyelids, without anything resembling normal lips, it looked
as though he was happy with the results of his personal tragedy. “It’s perfect,” he said. “Just perfect.” He wasn’t crying, his mother noticed, he
was trying to laugh. When Jeff was left alone, the doctor told
his parents that their son was in shock and it wasn’t unusual for someone to act that
way. The reality, he said, hadn’t set it in. “Just take him home,” said the doctor,
“and give him a lot of support.” “Of course we will,” said Jeff’s mother,
feeling ever so slightly guilty that she was glad about the fact that Jeff would be easier
to control now that he was damaged goods. “Oh,’ said the doctor as he was walking
away, “Don’t let him be alone for long.” Later that night while the family was sleeping,
Jeff’s mom was awoken by a strange sound coming from the bathroom. When she entered that bathroom she couldn’t
believe what she was seeing. Jeff was carving a smile into his face with
a knife. He’d also cut off what remained of his eyelids. “How do I look ma?” Jeff said earnestly. She couldn’t even speak…she couldn’t
move...the woman was petrified. “What’s up ma,” said Jeff, “Don’t
you think I’m beautiful anymore.” “Yes,” she said, while slowly back peddling
out of the bathroom, “You are my beautiful son. You’ll always be my beautiful little honey
pot.” She then ran for it, got Jeff’s dad, and
the two of them tried to wrestle the knife from Jeff’s hands. “What!” screamed Jeff, “You lied to
me! You don’t think I’m beautiful!” He was too powerful for them…the rage had
returned, and it wasn’t difficult to stick that knife into both of them. Jeff stood over them, their lungs drowning
in their own blood. It was a beautiful sight. He was Jeff the Killer. That’s what he’d always been…a killer. He had one last stop before he left the house
and fulfilled his own prophecy. Jeff walked into Liu’s room. Standing at the side of Liu’s bed he put
his scarred leathery hand over his brother’s mouth. Liu suddenly looked at Jeff with wide open
eyes, as his dear brother sunk a knife deep into his stomach. “Shhhhhhh,” said Jeff. “Just go to sleep.” Part V: Jeff The Thriller
We weren’t kidding at the start when we said that in the U.S. scores of young people
are abducted by strangers, but did Jeff the Killer ever actually exist? We think most of you already know that this
is fiction, but what really gives it away? If you go back to the start of the original
Jeff the Killer story there is a part that says, “Excerpt from a local newspaper.” “OMINOUS UNKNOWN KILLER IS STILL AT LARGE. After weeks of unexplained murders, the ominous
unknown killer is still on the rise. After little evidence has been found, a young
boy states that he survived one of the killer’s attacks and bravely tells his story.” Ok, so first of all, the headline of that
story, “Ominous Unknown Killer Is Still At Large” would never be a headline in any
newspaper, anywhere. Trust us, we have former journalists and editors
on our team of writers. The writer of Jeff the Killer seems to have
found that adjective “ominous” and then gone and used it wherever he can. Secondly, the first paragraph is badly written. Listen to this:
“There, in the little ray of light, illuminating from between my curtains, were a pair of two
eyes. These weren’t regular eyes; they were dark,
ominous eyes.” Ominous, again, but the grammar also isn’t
correct in the first sentence. As for a “pair of two eyes”, that’s
called a tautology, and no news editor on this Earth would allow that to go to print. So, we know at the very beginning that this
tale is not true. If the point was to make it sound believable,
the Jeff the Killer writer messed up right at the start. As for a young boy attacking other young boys
and going on a murder spree, well, there just haven’t been any murder sprees of this kind
since the story was first published in 2011. What about Jeff’s amazing heart-stopping
strength? Well, let’s just take a giant leap and say
Jeff was possessed and had superhuman strength for a 13-year old kid. Ok, so there is something called “Commotio
cordis”, which can happen to a person when they are struck in the heart region of their
chest at just the right time...and yes, it can kill. You can actually find quite a few stories
of when this has happened to young people, although baseballs were the killer, not punches. What about Jeff going up in flames after having
a vodka bottle smashed over him and being doused with bleach. Firstly, not much vodka would have gotten
on Jeff. Secondly, you couldn't set a person on fire
if you splashed vodka on them. It’s not flammable enough. Remember that Keith somehow threw the lighter. We are guessing it was a Zippo lighter with
a wick, but even then...vodka...no way. As for the bleach which made Keith and Jeff
scream, well, bleach can irritate the skin if it’s not washed off, but it wouldn’t
make a person scream unless, possibly, it was poured into their eyes. And another thing, bleach isn’t flammable. It’s just not believable at all. Jeff would now be 22 years old and still on
the run after killing all those kids he didn’t kill. He wouldn’t be hard to spot, given that
he has horrific scars from burns and a smile cut into his face. Now watch this video, “The Russian Sleep
Experiment - Explained.”
