🖤🎪🩸 Jeff the killer and Laughing Jack meet 🖤🎪🩸

*This fanfic is under my folder “Creepypasta stuff.” Gacha Club character designs are under this forum: https://www.writerfeed.com/topic/117842-my-character-designs-lt-33-3?start=345. Enjoy and Happy Spooky Season!*

🖤🎪🩸 SAFE HOUSE 🖤🎪🩸

Jeff brushed his hair out of his eyes as he took in the sight of the dilapidated, cobwebbed mansion before him. He had been on the run for years and that mansion wasn’t the best shelter, but it was better than having to sleep in the streets and god, he was so tired of running.

Running…Had it really been fifteen years since it all happened? Since the kids burned him alive? Since he stabbed his parents and brother to death? It had all been a blur, but he still remembered the terror in their eyes, their shocked screams and most of all…

Liu’s disbelief. He had looked at Jeff as though asking, why? As though he wanted Jeff to be better. Better at what? He had learned that day that nobody got anything out of being nice, out of trusting people. Those kids may have pretended to be his friends, but who said they would be the last? No, there were people who would hurt him if they noticed even the slightest difference! He had to hurt them because that would be the only way he would help himself and-

And suddenly, Jeff thought of that little boy with messy black hair and bright green eyes, always dressed in tee shirts depicting some kind of ghost or ghoul. He wanted it to be Halloween every day, something about the monsters just spoke to him. Maybe it was their teeth or their claws, something in their eyes that seemed benevolent to him, but he knew they were his friends. 

He didn’t want to hurt anybody, either. He didn’t want to scare anyone at all. He just wanted to tell them that the monsters were not to be feared, that the twisted beings did not have to be scary. He believed love and light was everywhere, even in the darkness of an abandoned hallway and he wanted others to believe it too.

Jeff gripped the handle of the knife tightly, the pinpricks of his childhood flashing in his mind, mocking him, almost. When he grew up, he wanted to be the Halloween King, to bring the frights to life, to startle people, but only for a little bit, then they’d all laugh and he would show them his collection of horror movies and scary costumes. They’d think he was a little strange and too obsessed with Halloween, but they’d consider him a friend.

What would that little boy think of him now? The man who killed his own family when he was just thirteen? Who killed others in the dead of night? Jeff didn’t even know if that little boy was there anymore. He felt so lifeless, so bleak, like he wasn’t quite attached to his own soul. He was different than he was before, somebody new born out of the ashes.

It wasn’t anything to get upset about, it was just something to get used to, yet still, he found his eyes burning with tears.

Jeff trudged on to the house. No matter. There was nothing he could do about it.

Jeff tossed and turned in his sleeping bag, wishing that he would take his own advice. 

He had an eye-patch cover sleep thing on his eyes, but that did little to replicate what real eyelids did. 

Jeff had taken refuge at an abandoned house, thinking that after all he went through, he would be able to finally have a peaceful sleep.

But no. Ever since that night at thirteen years old, it seemed that all ability to sleep was forever lost.

He could hear the floorboards creak, the bugs crawl (yes, even that), and…

And the sound of a music box tinkling the melody of “Pop goes the weasel”.

Jeff shot up from the sleeping bag, ripping the sleep cover from his eyes. He grabbed the knife that was beside him and made his way down the hall, enraged that something dared to bother him.

“Why don’t you just come out of the shadows and fight me?!” Jeff cried out as the music box got louder. 

Whatever it was would face his wrath.

……………………………………………

🖤🎪🩸 FIRST ENCOUNTER 🩸🎪🖤

Right from the shadows was none other than a black and white striped figure, with a cone-shaped nose. Jeff could see markings on the face that silted down in a way that vaguely told him…

The being was a clown.

The colorless clown cackled, his towering frame shaking as his high-low pitched screams of a laugh reverberated around the abandoned house.

Jeff reached for his knife, prepared to slice the clown creature’s throat. No, he did not know what it was, nor did he care. The thing was interrupting his attempts to rest.

“You think that you can kill ME?! LAUGHING JACK?! That’s absolutely adorable of you. But no, this is my house…”

The clown-Laughing Jack-stopped laughing and materialized in only mere seconds in front of Jeff. The clown’s smile was on the edge of cracking.

Jeff didn’t move.

“And you’re an intruder.” Laughing Jack snarled, his voice slightly lowering.

Jeff kept his eyes locked with the clown’s white ones. He didn’t budge when the clown reached in his chest and pulled out his brown, decaying heart.

Laughing Jack studied the molding heart curiously, then took a bite of it.

“You’re not like the other humans that came here, are you?” Laughing Jack asked through a mouthful of his heart.

“I’m not human, period.” Jeff said, tightening his grip on the knife. He didn’t quite feel ready to stab yet, but he’d do it if Laughing Jack threatened him.

“Well, I look forward to our fight. Even though I’ll be the victor, I await eagerly to see you fight for your life.” Laughing Jack said with a grin, having finished chewing on Jeff’s heart.

Jeff watched wordlessly as Laughing Jack faded back into the shadows, just as a coward would. Only, was Laughing Jack really a coward? Or was he something more?

No matter. If that was how it was going to be, then Jeff would fight to stay. He’d show that clown a thing or two.

Though Jeff’s favorite use of murder was his knife, he had other ways to end lives…

……………………………………………

🖤🎪🩸 FLICKER OF DEATH 🩸🎪🖤

Jeff dragged his knife against the wall, anticipating Laughing Jack’s arrival. He was hiding, waiting for Jeff to strike, waiting-

“You think I’d let you win?!”

Laughing Jack’s claw was surged deep into his chest, just like last time. Jeff snickered and stabbed his wrist, watching in amusement as the clown tried to shake the pain away.

Why did he even try that? Didn’t he know that Jeff wasn’t quite alive?

Laughing Jack disappeared, back into the darkness. But Jeff knew, just like he knew that the neighbor’s birthday party would change his life, that Laughing Jack was hiding somewhere.

“You wanted to fight, didn’t you?! Then come out! Tear me apart! Hurt me like nobody else ever had!” Jeff shrilled.

For what could Laughing Jack do that Jeff hadn’t already felt? He was made to feel like an outsider, and then, bleached and burned at the party. He should have died, but he survived. At least, a part of him did.

Behind him, Jeff could feel Laughing Jack pulling him down, pulling his back to the ground. The clown’s claws were sinking deep into his skin, right into his innards, but it wouldn’t be enough. It was never enough. Ever since that day when he was thirteen, it seemed that nothing could kill Jeff.

“The last thing you’ll ever see are the maggots that crawl in the ceiling. They wait to feast on your flesh. You can’t escape me, no one can.” Laughing Jack hissed in his ear.

Yes, the ceiling was incredibly rotten, but it wouldn’t be his last moment. No moments were his last.

As Laughing Jack’s teeth sunk into his skull, Jeff wondered if maybe, the clown could actually kill him. If he’d finally be laid to rest.

But then, what would wait for him? Heaven? No, Heaven wouldn’t take a lost soul like him. After everything Jeff did, why would any place like Heaven want him?

No. The burning flames of Hell were his only destination. Maybe he wouldn’t even burn. Hell was a place that kept changing, it was designed to torture people in many ways.

The world Jeff was living was already Hell, so real Hell didn’t frighten him that much.

Yet there was a little boy inside him, a boy uncorrupted by the world, who was still afraid of no one caring. Of people laughing at his suffering. Because who would mourn him? Nobody. The world was waiting for him to die.

Jeff stabbed Laughing Jack somewhere in his face, he didn’t see.

The clown was gone for the time being, and Jeff was alone again.

He clenched the knife tighter, as he always had to fight.

……………………………………………

🖤🎪🩸SECOND DANCE 🩸🎪🖤

Jeff lay in the stiff, moth-eaten mattress that he found in the house, trying to sleep in some form. He didn’t actually have any eyelids, so he couldn’t close his eyes to go to sleep. He had to wear a piece of cloth he ripped up from one of his victim’s clothes around his eyes so that he could sleep.

The only trouble was that every creek in the old house made him shake a little bit, because what if it was him? What if he had to fight that clown again? Laughing Jack wouldn’t leave him alone, he kept on trying to scare him as though that would do something. It startled him a little bit, sure. But it mostly annoyed him.

Jeff tried to ignore the creaking all throughout the walls, the creaking that was crying out for his attention, the-

“WaKeY wAkEY!” An obscenely optimistic voice cried out.

He then felt something slash its claws on his stomach, an action that would have caused extreme pain for humans, but mild discomfort to him. He reached towards the cloth around his eyes and tossed it to the side, planning to pick it up when the morning came.

Sure enough, his rotten brown innards were spilling out of an open, wide, gaping gash on his stomach. Jeff sighed in dissatisfaction as he-

Laughing Jack pushed him back down to the bed with just one claw, a smile growing on his pale, leathery face. Jeff tried to get up, but his claw was so, so heavy, he couldn’t move at all…why was Laughing Jack pushing him down?

Laughing Jack leaned down to his face, hovering a mere few inches from him. Jeff could feel his mildew-scented breath and see the blood shining on his teeth…the blood that was just like the hair dye he wanted to buy from the store when he was thirteen…the blood shined from the moonlight, glitteredjust like gems…not only that, but the way the black markings ringed around his eyes almost looked like the baby dolls he would draw black sharpie circles around their sappy, cartoon eyes…it was creepy…but not too terrible to look at.

Isn’t he trying to murder you? Doesn’t he laugh too much? What is he doing now? Shouldn’t you just get up and stab him in the eye?

Those were the thoughts that swirled in Jeff’s head, but he stayed put, waiting to see what Laughing Jack may do next, waiting so that he would know how to attack when the time came.

Laughing Jack’s lips began to morph into something of a surprised expression. 

“Why won’t you leave?” Laughing Jack whispered in a low, hushed tone.

It was in a tone that Jeff hadn’t heard from Laughing Jack before. Normally he liked to screech his words out with a cackle as though he wanted the whole world to hear, but his raspy, creaking-floorboards voice in a soft, quiet tone sounded, in a strange way, lulling to Jeff. It was like something he would hear in a gentle country song with cascading guitar strums, the kind of song he’d hear when his parents would take him and Liu out on Fourth of July and would drive them both around town. The fireworks would be splattering the sky, the country performances would carry throughout the air of greasy food and barbecue smoke. Jeff and Liu would smile at each other and make jokes, maybe even argue a bit, but with the sun taking its time to settle over the Earth, there was a sense of pure, complete peace that everything would be alright, that everyone would live calmly.

It was one of the only good memories that Jeff had from his childhood.

“This is my home, clown. Get out or get used to it.” Jeff replied, secretly hoping that Laughing Jack would stay like that over him for a few more minutes, just so he could hear him whisper in his rasping voice, so he could smell his mildew breath, so he could see his white eyes that shone like diamonds and his long, black hair that had small circle knots like button-eyed rag dolls, rag dolls that Jeff would love even as they began to rot, rag dolls that he would make look like monsters so that every single one of them could be scary enough to fight for themselves, scarier than the action figures Liu owned.

Jeff had a little hope when Laughing Jack’s diamond eyes melted warmly, like a creamsicle July sunset, but then, Laughing Jack pushed him towards the wall and shrieked:

“I’ll skin you alive and eat your eyes, JeFfErY!”

Jeff would have grinned if he hadn’t already carved one on his face, grabbing the knife that he tossed to the side. Laughing Jack had jumped somewhere into the darkness, but he was waiting. Waiting for Jeff to fight, waiting for Jeff to eventually give up and leave.

No, that wasn’t going to happen. He was going to stay right where he was. Why would Laughing Jack ever think that for a second, he would leave? That was such a silly joke!

The abandoned house was the only place for him to stay. Laughing Jack couldn’t get rid of him so easily. Either he’d leave or stay, none of it really mattered to Jeff.

Then again, it wouldn’t be too bad to see Laughing Jack’s long, spindly black claw scratch the walls like spider legs and-

Said clown jumped from the darkness and pushed him into the ground.

Well then, the clown would be sorely disappointed.

……………………………………………

Jeff stared at the drawing of the hunched, spindly monster he had sketched in his notebook, every bit of detail done meticulously, as though the sinewy creature with the wirey hair would jump out of the pages and hold him close.

He wished that would happen, that a sharp-toothed, jagged-clawed, flesh-eating monster would love him so hard that it would kill him and then he wouldn’t ever have to worry about those three boys who said they were his friends and tried every day to “help” him by making them just like him, about Ash never taking the hint and leaving him alone, about not to be “so dramatic”, to cut his hair, to…

A monster may hurt him, but not out of malice. No, no. Monsters would hurt no matter what their motives were, it was just in their nature. Humans, on the other hand, hurt because they wanted control, because they wanted to be right all the time, because they wanted others to be their version as to what was correct, because they just didn’t care. At all.

Jeff cackled as Laughing Jack sat on top of him, tearing his claws through Jeff’s flesh, making good on his word that he would “skin Jeff alive”. It was so funny, how Laughing Jack thought that he could hurt him.

No, Jeff had been hurt way worse by the people around him and his heart was a heart that would never beat again. He was not alive, nor was he dead. He simply existed, taking the lives of others just so he could see crimson blood splatter onto his lifeless pale, rotting skin. Laughing Jack’s claws throughout his body was still contact, still felt like he was being hugged, even with the chunks of skin pulled from his bones like chicken meat.

“What’s so funny? Why are you laughing?” Laughing Jack asked, grabbing Jeff by the hair and pulling him close to him, his arms almost suffocating Jeff, his leathery face lined with frustration and…and concern? Did he really care about him? Did he really care at all? No, he was just asking a question, he just wanted to tear him apart, he-

“You really want to know why I was laughing?” Jeff asked, coughing up black, gooey chunks of mucus that must have been festering deep inside of him, within his own decay.

The mucus hit the cracked, cobwebbed floor and slipped through the broken cracks, like even his own body didn’t want to be tethered to the Earth anymore, to the mundane, gravity-bound world anymore.