1558: Jeff the Killer – One Shot CreepypastaPosted: October 9, 2016
Title: Jeff the Killer
Media: Itself, I guess
Topic: Also itself.
URL: Jeff the Killer
Critiqued by AdmiralSakai and Nina
While this pasta is really, profoundly not scary, it contains substantial flamebait in its tactless approach to police procedure, gun control, bullying (cyber and regular), juvenile delinquency, the court system, and mental illness. It is incendiary in pretty much every possible way with respect to a variety of issues that disproportionately affect teens and young adults, and should be read with caution in mind at all times.
Hello hello, all you patrons! Sign on up for the Cult of X and check up on any diseased friends you may have, because it’s that time again…
Today… boy, have we got a treat for you.
“This is the story that launched a thousand clones…”
The story that put creepypasta on the map in all the worst ways possible…
“He’s bigger than Slenderman…”
More incomprehensibly OP than the Brutal Obscene Beast…
“Dumber than a cult made entirely of Nazis…”
And edgier than Shadow the Hedgehog writing depressing poetry to the tune of Crawling in my Skin…
“Ladies and gentlemen, put your fins together for Jeff the ONE…”
Jeff the ONLY…
*Both, imitating wrestling announcers*
This entire pasta is actually written around what would eventually become its title image (along with the white text reading GO TO SLEEP that appears on the bottom of some versions), and quite honestly it’s a piss-poor photoshop:
If you turn the contrast up a little you can see the brushstrokes where they blurred out the model’s nose, and the eyes and mouth are clearly just feathered onto the resulting blank white background. They tried to cover it up by intentionally turning the JPG compression way up and inducing all sorts of artifacts, but it really didn’t work. You’re not Andrew Hussie, so stop trying to be.
If you ask twenty different netizens where the picture originally came from, you’ll get fifty different answers, which tells me that none of them are true. Several different people have come forward claiming to have made it from a picture of themselves, others say it was derived from the “overly attached girlfriend” meme, there’s a persistent rumor that it’s a photo of a girl who committed suicide after intense cyberbullying (which I highly doubt, as the proposed base photo looks completely different), and occasionally people claim it came from “a slideshow of scary clown pictures” but can’t link to it or offer anything more concrete. Since basically anybody with a copy of MS Paint could have made it, it could really have come from anywhere.
“Remind me again why we care?
Oh, that’s right, we don’t.”
Excerpt from a local Newspaper:
“Well that really narrows our location down.”
Also, I wish authors would stop capitalizing random Nouns already.
KILLER IS STILL
… “OMINOUS UNKNOWN KILLER”? “OMINOUS”? Really?
What is this, the National Enquirer?
are, they really
After weeks of unexplained murders, the ominous unknown killer
“Is that seriously what they’re calling him?”
Doesn’t quite have the same ring as the Zodiac Killer, now does it?
is still on the rise.
Good. Then maybe he’ll exit the atmosphere soon and we won’t have to deal with his bullshit.
After little evidence has been found, a young boy states that he survived one of the killer’s attacks and bravely tells his story.
“I had a bad dream and I woke up in the middle of the night,” says the boy,
‘I dreamed I was in a shitty horror story, surrounded by angsty teens!
“Also, good thing you’ve still got this glubber lying around.”
A Tense Narrative Counter: 2
“I saw that for some reason the window was open, even though I remember it being closed before I went to bed. I got up and shut it once more. Afterwards, I simply crawled under my covers and tried to get back to sleep. That’s when I had a strange feeling, like someone was watching me.
I looked up, and nearly jumped out of my bed. There, in the little ray of light, illuminating from between my curtains,
… was purple prose!
were a pair of two eyes.
“That would make four eyes, total.”
Are random kids now being stalked by batarians?
These weren’t regular eyes; they were dark, ominous eyes.
“Oh, for glub’s sake, does this author even know what ‘ominous’ means??”
It’s hyper-realism all over again!
They were bordered in black and… just plain out terrified me. That’s when I saw his mouth. A long, horrendous smile that made every hair on my body stand up. The figure stood there, watching me. Finally, after what seemed like forever, he said it. A simple phrase, but said in a way only a mad man could speak.
“He said, ‘Go To Sleep.’
“With that exact capitalization and everything?”
I let out a scream, that’s what sent him at me. He pulled up a knife;
How, by using the Start menu?
aiming at my heart. He jumped on top of my bed. I fought him back; I kicked, I punched, I rolled around, trying to knock him off me.
Flat-face kids are badass.”
That’s when my dad busted in.
“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, YOU MOTHERFUKERS”?
“ The man threw the knife, it went into my dad’s shoulder. The man probably would’ve finished him off,
“Except for the part where he no longer has a weapon, because he just chucked his only glubbing knife across the room!”
if one of the neighbors hadn’t alerted the police.
“They drove into the parking lot,
“His house has a parking lot?”
I dunno, maybe it was an apartment building or something?
and ran towards the door. The man turned and ran down the hallway.
“Leaving his only weapon behind…”
You know, that makes me wonder- just where does Jeff get more knives? He’s a freakishly deformed serial killer, so it’s not like he can just stop by Sears and get a replacement butcher knife every time he breaks or loses his old one. I suppose he could steal them from his victims, but it sounds like kind of a big risk going rooting around in peoples’ kitchens while trying to commit a murder.
I heard a smash, like glass breaking. As I came out of my room, I saw the window that was pointing towards the back of my house was broken.
If it’s pointing towards the back of your house, that would make it an interior window.
“Also, there goes your apartment theory.”
I looked out it to see him vanish into the distance. I can tell you one thing, I will never forget that face. Those cold, evil eyes, and that psychotic smile.
That lack of any concrete description…
They will never leave my head.”
Police are still on the look for this man.
As well as attempting to locate missing word.
If you see anyone that fits the description in this story,
“What description? All you’ve given us is ‘cold, evil eyes’ and ‘a psychotic smile’. That’s not an identifiable description, that’s half your miserable furry species.”
please contact your local police department
You know, I’m beginning to think that the town in this is actually called Local, and they’re just not capitalizing it properly.
Jeff and his family had just moved into a new neighborhood. His dad had gotten a promotion at work, and they thought it would be best to live in one of those “fancy” neighborhoods.
There’s no scene break of any kind here, by the way- we are, apparently, still in Local, and this is still a newspaper article.
Jeff and his brother Liu couldn’t complain though. A new, better house. What was not to love?
Because when you’re a preteen kid and your family moves, you don’t care about moving schools in the middle of the year or the social circle you leave behind or anything like that- no, it’s all about that property value…
As they were getting unpacked, one of their neighbors came by.
“Hello,” she said, “I’m Barbara; I live across the street from you. Well, I just wanted to introduce my self and to introduce my son.” She turns around and calls her son over. “Billy, these are our new neighbors.” Billy said hi and ran back to play in his yard.
“Well, that was pointless.”
“Well,” said Jeff’s mom, “I’m Margaret, and this is my husband Peter, and my two sons, Jeff and Liu.”
Jeff and… Liu.
“That’s what it says.”
Now, call me old-fashioned, but does it strike anyone else as odd that the family has entirely Anglophone names, except for one kid? Is Liu supposed to be adopted? Is Jeff supposed to be adopted?
I’m not saying it’s an irresolvable problem, it just sounds like there’s a story somewhere in it.
“A story that’s probably a lot better than what we get.”
Also, none of these people have last names, period.
“Sure they do! It’s right up in the title.”
They each introduced themselves, and then Barbara invited them to her son’s birthday. Jeff and his brother were about to object, when their mother said that they would love to.
Mrs. The Killer is an asshole.
When Jeff and his family are done packing, Jeff went up to his mom.
“Mom, why would you invite us to some kid’s party? If you haven’t noticed, I’m not some dumb kid.”
“No, you’re a very dumb kid.”
“Jeff,” said his mother, “We just moved here; we should show that we want to spend time with our neighbors. Now, we’re going to that party, and that’s final.” Jeff started to talk, but stopped himself, knowing that he couldn’t do anything. Whenever his mom said something, it was final. He walked up to his room and plopped down on his bed. He sat there looking at his ceiling when suddenly, he got a weird feeling. Not so much a pain, but… a weird feeling.
You know, I’d really prefer this not being so soon after a passage that focused on his mom.
He dismissed it as just some random feeling. He heard his mother call him down to get his stuff, and he walked down to get it.
The next day, Jeff walked down stairs to get breakfast and got ready for school. As he sat there, eating his breakfast, he once again got that feeling. This time it was stronger. It gave him a slight tugging pain,
but he once again dismissed it. As he and Liu finished breakfast, they walked down to the bus stop.
Is their breakfast just a couple of energy bars or something? Or are they just carrying half-full bowls of cereal with them down the sidewalk?
They sat there waiting for the bus, and then, all of a sudden, some kid on a skateboard jumped over them, only inches above their laps.
That’d… actually take a fair bit of skill!
They both jumped back in surprise. “Hey, what the hell?”
The kid landed and turned back to them. He kicked his skate board up and caught it with his hands. The kid seems to be about twelve; one year younger than Jeff. He wears
Seriously, what is it with creepypasta and tense shifts?! Counter: 3
a Aeropostale shirt and ripped blue jeans.
“Well, well, well. It looks like we got some new meat.”
*unpleasant flashbacks to high school, and a bunch of trust-fund babies thinking that those stupid glasses with plastic diffraction grids made them bad ghetto dudez*
Suddenly, two other kids appeared.
Ok, who gave the local hooligans active camo?
There are definitely a lot of other errors in these things, but they’re nowhere near as pervasive counter: 4
One was super skinny and the other was huge. “Well, since you’re new here, I’d like to introduce ourselves, over there is Keith.” Jeff and Liu looked over to the skinny kid. He had a dopey face that you would expect a sidekick to have. “And he’s Troy.”
Oh, sorry buddy, wrong story.
I never thought I’d say this, but you’re going to be a lot better off if you just stay in LoaS.
They looked over at the fat kid. Talk about a tub of lard. This kid looked like he hadn’t exercised since he was crawling.
“Wow, these are some really threatening bullies you’ve dreamed up here… I might even have to look directly at them to chase them off…”
Hell, based on these descriptions I could probably take these two on. Not even using robotics or anything, either, just a straight-up fight.
“And I,” said the first kid, “am Randy.
I dunno, twelve seems a little young to be randy…
Now, for all the kids in this neighborhood there is a small price for bus fare, if you catch my drift. Liu stood up, ready to punch the lights out of the kid’s eyes when one of his friends pulled a knife on him.
“One of Liu’s friends pulled a knife on him?”
That’s what it says…
“Tsk, tsk, tsk, I had hoped you would be more cooperative, but it seems we must do this the hard way.”
Looks like the Mafia’s started recruiting a lot younger since the 70s.”
The only way these kids could possibly be more obviously evil is if Jeff wakes up next morning to find the severed head of one of those playground pogo-ride things in his bed.
The kid walked up to Liu and took his wallet out of his pocket.
Liu offering… no resistance whatsoever, apparently.
Jeff got that feeling again. Now, it was truly strong; a burning sensation.
He should probably see a doctor about that.
He stood up, but Liu gestured him to sit down. Jeff ignored him and walked up to the kid.
“Listen here you little punk, give back my bro’s wallet or else.” Randy put the wallet in his pocket and pulled out his own knife.
“Why does everybody have knives? I thought this was supposed to be ‘one of the nicer neighborhoods’.”
I dunno. I grew up in a pretty affluent suburb myself, and while it’s certainly true that this sort of thing isn’t anywhere near as common as it would be in an area with a lot of gang activity or whatever, there were always two or three “bad boys” in each class who got weapons because their parents were big on “the great outdoors” or just super, super indulgent. They probably wouldn’t last a minute in a real knife fight, but since everyone else was even more whitebread than they were so long as they kept their shenanigans out of sight of any adults they could actually get away with a lot.
The plural of anecdote is not data, of course, but it’s not completely unattested.
“Oh? And what will you do?” Just as he finished the sentence, Jeff popped the kid in the nose. As Randy reached for his face, Jeff grabbed the kid’s wrist and broke it. Randy screamed and Jeff grabbed the knife from his hand. Troy and Keith rushed Jeff, but Jeff was too quick. He threw Randy to the ground. Keith lashed out at him, but Jeff ducked and stabbed him in the arm. Keith dropped his knife and fell to the ground screaming. Troy rushed him too, but Jeff didn’t even need the knife. He just punched Troy straight in the stomach and Troy went down.
What is it with this story and small children having incredible CQC skills?”
As he fell, he puked all over.
Well thank you for that little detail.
“Because nothing says pure, undiluted horror like ‘he puked all over’.”
Liu could do nothing but look in amazement at Jeff.
“Jeff how’d you?” that was all he said.
Apparently Liu’s been reading legolas by laura.
They saw the bus coming and knew they’d be blamed for the whole thing.
Umm… not really? I mean, the Junior Protection Racket pulled knives on them and Jeff pretty much just fought to incapacitate, so it’d be a clear-cut case of self-defense. In fact, given that there really wasn’t any way to de-escalate the situation, they probably wouldn’t even get a lecture on violence being a last resort or anything; hell, getting a nice article written about them in the Local Newspaper wouldn’t be out of the question.
So they started running as fast as they could. As they ran, they looked back and saw the bus driver rushing over to Randy and the others. As Jeff and Liu made it to school,
“Wait, if they can just run to school, why did they need to wait for a bus to begin with?”
they didn’t dare tell what happened. All they did was sit and listen. Liu just thought of that as his brother beating up a few kids, but Jeff knew it was more. It was something, scary. As he got that feeling he felt how powerful it was, the urge to just, hurt someone.
“The only thing ‘scary’ here is the comma placement!”
He didn’t like how it sounded, but he couldn’t help feeling happy. He felt that strange feeling go away, and stay away for the entire day of school.
And apparently during that entire day nobody in the school administration said or did anything at all about the three students who’d just been put in the hospital.
Even as he walked home due to the whole thing near the bus stop, and how now he probably wouldn’t be taking the bus anymore,
“Umm… why? The thugs who made it dangerous are gone.”
he felt happy.
When he got home his parents asked him how his day was, and he said, in a somewhat ominous voice, “It was a wonderful day.”
“… Oh, for glub‘s sake!”
*sigh…* So he went ominously upstairs to his ominous room, did his ominous homework, and played ominous video games until it was time for ominous dinner. Mrs. The Killer had made one of his favorites (chicken in ominous sauce), and so Jeff had an ominous second helping before it was time to walk the ominous dog. He came back, watched ominous television for a few hours, then brushed his ominous teeth, changed into his ominous pajamas, and climbed into his ominous bed to dream ominous dreams.
The. Ominous. End!
Next morning, he heard a knock at his front door.
“Don’t you mean next ominous morning…?”
Oh, shut up!
He walked down to find two police officers at the door, his mother looking back at him with an angry look.
“Jeff, these officers tell me that you attacked three kids. That it wasn’t regular fighting, and that they were stabbed. Stabbed, son!”
“What, would you like it better if the got shot?”
Jeff’s gaze fell to the floor, showing his mother that it was true.
“Mom, they were the ones who pulled the knives on me and Liu.”
“Son,” said one of the cops,” We found three kids, two stabbed,
“Wait, two got stabbed? I thought one got stabbed, one got his wrist broken, and the third went down after one punch to the float bladder. Did I mention these thugs are pathetic yet?”
Jeff’s such a Gary Stu he can transform other injuries into stab wounds retroactively!
one having a bruise on his stomach, and we have witnesses proving that you fled the scene. Now, what does that tell us?” Jeff knew it was no use. He could say him and Liu had been attacked, but then there was no proof it was not them who attacked first.
“Except for the part where there was a witness who presumably saw them not attack first…”
That’s actually the only part of this that I’m inclined to believe. Compared to concrete forensic evidence, lay witness testimony is actually pretty fucking unreliable (especially if there’s only a single witness).
Granted, the forensic evidence would probably be just as exculpating, but I could very easily see a witness completely transposing the order of what they’d just seen.
They couldn’t say that they weren’t fleeing, because truth be told they were. So Jeff couldn’t defend himself or Liu.
I mean, yeah, fleeing the scene of a crime or altercation is kind of stupid and if they’d stuck around it’d be even clearer that they weren’t responsible, but it doesn’t change the basic facts of what happened here. Especially since the Fine Young Mafiosi probably already have a history of disciplinary incidents, and questioning their parents and/or searching their effects would reveal that they owned knives identical to the ones that cut them.
“Son, call down your brother.” Jeff couldn’t do it, since it was him who beat up all the kids.
“Sir, it…it was me. I was the one who beat up the kids. Liu tried to hold me back, but he couldn’t stop me.” The cop looked at his partner and they both nod.
“Well kid, looks like a year in Juvy…”
Since that’s totally a thing a random City Guardsman can just automatically decide. There’s no formal confession or examination of evidence or- what’s the flat-face version of an Assembly of Speakers, again?”
– a judge-
“or a ‘judge’ deciding an appropriate sentence, just ‘I stabbed them’, ‘year’s detention!‘”
Also, a year in juvie? At thirteen? For what is, at best, two counts of aggravated assault and one count of battery?
If you haven’t been following the news in… basically ever, really, rich kids are really hard to put in jail, because rich kids tend to have rich parents, and rich parents tend to hire extremely expensive lawyers! Even if the cops actually did manage to arrest Jeff on strong evidence (which I doubt, since affluent suburbs typically have their own little weaksauce police departments that are kept on a pretty tight leash by the community), there’d be a whole damn conga line of shrinks, school officials, and community figures offering alternative solutions. Even if he actually did see the inside of a courtroom he’d probably just get a month’s community service or something.
“Wait!” says Liu. They all looked up to see him holding a knife.
And it’s not just one author, either. They all do it counter: 6
The officers pulled their guns and locked them on Liu.
Ok, on one hand it seems like these guys are really overreacting by pulling guns on a preteen, but on the other considering that two members of this family become serial killers and one of them just showed up waving a knife I can totally understand their reaction.
“I’m more worried about the fact that their guns can apparently fire guided projectiles that ‘lock onto’ targets. Even UNITY doesn’t have those yet.”
“It was me, I beat up those little punks. Have the marks to prove it.” He lifted up his sleeves to reveal cuts and bruises, as if he was in a struggle.
“Wait, when did he get those? The thugs never touched him!’
I think the story is trying to imply that he inflicted them on himself just now with the knife (including the bruises, I dunno?). Even though that still doesn’t make sense since the cops would be able to tell that the injuries were fresh, that the angles indicated they were self-inflicted, oh yeah and that the knife he was holding was bloody!
“Son, just put the knife down,” said the officer. Liu held up the knife and dropped it to the ground. He put his hands up and walked over to the cops.
“No Liu, it was me! I did it!” Jeff had tears running down his face.
“Huh, poor bro. Trying to take the blame for what I did. Well, take me away.” The police led Liu out to the patrol car.
“So apparently the Guardsmen just… believe him over Jeff for some reason, even though they both said the exact same thing and they never checked to see if Jeff had similar injuries.”
I can’t tell if the cops in this are supposed to be incompetent, if the story is trying to bash them (or bash police in general), or if they’ve just been caught up in the general atmosphere of gormless stupidity that pervades the entire thing.
“Liu, tell them it was me! Tell them! I was the one who beat up those kids!” Jeff’s mother put her hands on his shoulders.
“Jeff please, you don’t have to lie. We know it’s Liu, you can stop.” Jeff watched helplessly as the cop car speeds off with Liu inside.
A Tense Narrative Counter : 7
You know, it took me a while to notice it, but the story does this persistent thing where it puts someone’s dialogue the paragraph after they take an action, and in the same paragraph as somebody else taking an action, which makes it look like the other person was the one speaking. Thus, we have both of the cops trying to take the blame for the assault, while Mrs. The Killer tries to get Liu to implicate her and Jeff reassures himself that Liu was guilty.
A few minutes later Jeff’s dad pulled into the driveway,
A Tense Narrative Counter: 8
seeing Jeff’s face and knowing something was wrong.
“Son, son what is it?” Jeff couldn’t answer.
“Also, Jeff apparently has a son.”
His vocal cords were strained from crying. Instead, Jeff’s mother walked his father inside to break the bad news to him as Jeff wept in the driveway. After an hour or so Jeff walked back in to the house,
Because apparently Mr. and Mrs. The Killer were not at all concerned to have their son bawling his eyes out in the middle of their lawn.
seeing that his parents were both shocked, sad, and disappointed. He couldn’t look at them. He couldn’t see how they thought of Liu when it was his fault. He just went to sleep, trying to get the whole thing off his mind. Two days went by, with no word from Liu at JDC.
Wait, he’s already at the JDC? Seriously, not even an arraignment or anything, the cops just drove him directly there?
No friends to hang out with.
“No friends to hang out with? THE HORROR!”
Nothing but sadness and guilt. That is until Saturday, when Jeff is woke up by his mother, with a happy, sunshiny face.
A Tense Narrative Counter: 10
“Jeff, it’s the day.” she said as she opened up the curtains and let light flood into his room.
“What, what’s today?” asked Jeff as he stirs awake.
“Why, it’s Billy’s party.” He was now fully awake.
A Tense Narrative Counter: 12
He was fully awake, he is fully awake, he will be fully awake… take your fucking pick, I guess.
“Mom, you’re joking, right? You don’t expect me to go to some kid’s party after…” There was a long pause.
“Jeff, we both know what happened. I think this party could be the thing that brightens up the past days. Now, get dressed.” Jeff’s mother walked out of the room and downstairs to get ready herself.
Mrs. The Killer is really an asshole.
He fought himself to get up. He picked out a random shirt and pair of jeans and walked down stairs. He saw his mother and father all dressed up; his mother in a dress and his father in a suit. He thought, why they would ever wear such fancy clothes to a kid’s party?
That’s… actually a very good question! Even if it does accidentally a word.
“Son, is that all your going to wear?” said Jeff’s mom.
“Better than wearing too much.” he said. His mother pushed down the feeling to yell at him and hid it with a smile.
“You know, with guardians like this it’s really no wonder Jeff turned out the way he did.”
“Now Jeff, we may be over-dressed, but this is how you go if you want to make an impression.” said his father.
Yes- an impression of being insanely overdressed.
It’s a fucking kids’ birthday party, put on a clean polo shirt and you’ll be fine!
Jeff grunted and went back up to his room.
“I don’t have any fancy clothes!” he yelled down stairs.
Which, if his parents are really so into the Barbie and Ken look, makes no fucking sense. Surely he’s had to go to these sort of events before.
“Just pick out something.” called his mother. He looked around in his closet for what he would call fancy. He found a pair of black dress pants he had for special occasions and an undershirt. He couldn’t find a shirt to go with it though. He looked around, and found only striped and patterned shirts. None of which go with dress pants.
What, no lewd comments after being presented with a slideshow of young, attractive human males?
“I dunno, the suit-and-tie type just isn’t really my thing.”
That’s… actually good to know.
*Begins revising the RIFFCON dress code to include ties wherever possible*
Finally he found a white hoodie and put it on.
And his solution to having no suitable dress shirts is to wear… a hoodie. A motherfucking hoodie.
This is the fashion equivalent of finding out that your fire extinguisher isn’t rated for grease fires, and instead dousing the stove in gasoline.
“You’re wearing that?” they both said. His mother looked at her watch. “Oh, no time to change. Let’s just go.” She said as she herded Jeff and his father out the door.
“You know, Mr. The Killer is really kind of a non-entity in this.”
They crossed the street over to Barbara and Billy’s house. They knocked on the door and at it appeared that Barbara, just like his parents, way over-dressed. As they walked inside all Jeff could see were adults, no kids.
Well, there goes his concern about the party being too young for him…
Oh. Right. This is an edgy ‘fic, no adults are ever interesting or approachable.
“The kids are out in the yard. Jeff, how about you go and meet some of them?” said Barbara.
Jeff walked outside to a yard full of kids. They were running around in weird cowboy costumes and shooting each other with plastic guns. He might as well be standing in a Toys R Us. Suddenly a kid came up to him and handed him a toy gun and hat.
“Hey. Wanna pway?” he said.
“Ah, no kid. I’m way too old for this stuff.” The kid looked at him with that weird puppydog face.
“Pwease?” said the kid. “Fine,” said Jeff. He put on the hat and started to pretend shoot at the kids.
You know, I’m really starting to suspect that shortly before writing this, the author (whoever that may have been) had to attend a birthday party that was a little below their age group at the request of their mother. Through the power of Teen Angst, that got transmorgified into Mrs. The Killer being a farcially bad parent and forcing her thirteen-year-old son to attend a five-year-old’s party.
At first he thought it was totally ridiculous, but then he started to actually have fun. It might not have been super cool, but it was the first time he had done something that took his mind off of Liu. So he played with the kids for a while,
That’s fine, but what exactly is the point of this segment? Actually, what’s the point of any of the story after the newspaper article?! It’s literally just the day-to-day life of a troubled teenage kid with idiot parents, there’s nothing remotely scary here!
“This story should’ve been called Jeff the Filler.”
until he heard a noise. A weird rolling noise. Then it hit him. Randy, Troy, and Keith all jumped over the fence on their skateboards.
They jumped over the fence.
On their skateboards.
“Are you sure this isn’t Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff the Killer? Because these kids are getting some unreal air.”
Jeff dropped the fake gun and ripped off the hat. Randy looked at Jeff with a burning hatred.
“Hello, Jeff, is it?” he said. “We have some unfinished business.” Jeff saw his bruised nose.” I think we’re even. I beat the crap out of you, and you get my brother sent to JDC.”
Oh, goodie, now we’ve got dialogue from different people in the same paragraph.
Randy got an angry look in his eyes. “Oh no, I don’t go for even, I go for winning. You may have kicked our asses that one day, but not today.”
Ok, this guy has officially passed mobster level and is now a full-fledged Junior Bond Villain.
As he said that Randy rushed at Jeff. They both fell to the ground. Randy punched Jeff in the nose, and Jeff grabbed him by the ears and head butted him. Jeff pushed Randy off of him and both rose to their feet. Kids were screaming and parents were running out of the house. Troy and Keith both pulled guns out of their pockets.
“… guns. Actual glubbing firearms.”
Well, at least now we can be sure this story is taking place in the good old US-of-A…
“No one interrupts or guts will fly!” they said.
“They’ve got guns that are small enough to fit in a twelve-year-old’s pocket without being immediately obvious. If guts are gonna be flying because of those… I really glubbing want one!”
Randy pulled a knife on Jeff and stabbed it into his shoulder.
That seems to happen a lot in this story. Does no one ever aim at anything else?
Jeff screamed and fell to his knees. Randy started kicking him in the face. After three kicks Jeff grabs his foot and twists it, causing Randy to fall to the ground.
“And being stabbed in the shoulder never seems to glub up their ability to use their arms, either. Or pull off sick hand-to-hand moves.”
Jeff stood up and walked towards the back door. Troy grabbed him.
“Need some help?” He picks Jeff up by the back of the collar and throws him through the patio door.
A Tense Narrative Counter: 13
As Jeff tries to stand he is kicked down to the ground. Randy repeatedly starts kicking Jeff, until he starts to cough up blood.
“Come on Jeff, fight me!” He picks Jeff up and throws him into the kitchen. Randy sees a bottle of vodka on the counter and smashes the glass over Jeff’s head.
“Fight!” He throws Jeff back into the living room.
Ok, either Jeff weighs all of ten kilos, or these kids are superhumanly strong.
“Well, remember, one of them is apparently also a UNSC Marine.”
“Come on Jeff, look at me!” Jeff glances up, his face riddled with blood. “I was the one who got your brother sent to JDC! And now you’re just gonna sit here and let him rot in there for a whole year! You should be ashamed!” Jeff starts to get up.
“Oh, finally! you stand and fight!” Jeff is now to his feet, blood and vodka on his face. Once again he gets that strange feeling, the one in which he hasn’t felt for a while.
Didn’t know Jeff was into that sort of thing.
“Finally. He’s up!” says Randy as he runs at Jeff.
“If he was trying to kill Jeff, why wait until his target got up?”
That’s when it happens. Something inside Jeff snaps. His psyche is destroyed, all rational thinking is gone, all he can do, is kill.
Because that’s totally a thing that can happen.
“Meaning that against an opponent with half a glubbing brain, he’ll last maybe two seconds…”
Not that that’d be a serious handicap in this story…
He grabs Randy and pile drives him to the ground. He gets on top of him and punches him straight in the heart. The punch causes Randy’s heart to stop.
Because that’s totally a thing that can happen, too.
As Randy gasps for breath. Jeff hammers down on him. Punch after punch, blood gushes from Randy’s body, until he takes one final breath, and dies.
Wait, if his heart stopped, why is he conscious and alive until some other injury kills him much later on?
Everyone is looking at Jeff now. The parents, the crying kids, even Troy and Keith.
“So… is anybody going to be calling the Guard any time soon? They showed up immediately after that kid got attacked in the prologue, and this fight’s been going on for a while.”
Although they easily break from their gaze and point their guns at Jeff. Jeff see’s the guns trained on him and runs for the stairs. As he runs Troy and Keith let out fire on him, each shot missing.
Wow. I’d’ve expected a Marine to actually be able to hit what he was aiming at.
Jeff runs up the stairs. He hears Troy and Keith follow up behind. As they let out their final rounds of bullets Jeff ducks into the bathroom.
“I’d expect a Marine to have some basic trigger discipline, too.”
He grabs the towel rack and rips it off the wall. Troy and Keith race in, knives ready.
“Great Cthulhu, these kids just don’t give up, do they? They saw their leader go down, they wasted all their ammunition, and Jeff really can’t go anywhere since they’ve got him trapped on the second floor- it seems like they can at least stop to take a glubbing breather…”
Troy swings his knife at Jeff, who backs away and bangs the towel rack into Troy’s face. Troy goes down hard and now all that’s left is Keith. He is more agile than Troy though, and ducks when Jeff swings the towel rack. He dropped the knife and grabbed Jeff by the neck.
A Tense Narrative Counter: 14
He pushed him into the wall. A thing of bleach fell down on top of him from the top shelf.
It burnt both of them and they both started to scream. Jeff wiped his eyes as best as he could. He pulled back the towel rack and swung it straight into Keith’s head. As he lay there, bleeding to death, he let out an ominous smile.
“Wait, Jeff’s bleeding to death? From a head wound?”
Ominously, no less!
“What’s so funny?” asked Jeff. Keith pulled out a lighter and switched it on. “What’s funny,” he said, “Is that you’re covered in bleach and alcohol.”
… One of which burns at a very low temperature, and the other of which doesn’t burn at all.
And both of which are heavily diluted with water.
Jeff’s eyes widened as Keith threw the lighter at him.
It subsequently did nothing, as modern lighters extinguish immediately once the button is released.
As soon as the flame made contact with him, the flames ignited the alcohol in the vodka. While the alcohol burned him, the bleach bleached his skin.
That’s… not a thing that can happen. Even comic books at least have the decency to use serious industrial chemicals to inexplicably alter the villain’s physiology…
Jeff let out a terrible screech as he caught on fire. He tried to roll out the fire but it was no use, the alcohol had made him a walking inferno.
For all of five seconds, then it burned up.
He ran down the hall, and fell down the stairs. Everybody started screaming as they saw Jeff, now a man on fire, drop to the ground, nearly dead. The last thing Jeff saw was his mother and the other parents trying to extinguish the flame.
“And Mr. The Killer is… still not doing anything.”
That’s when he passed out.
When Jeff woke he had a cast wrapped around his face. He couldn’t see anything, but he felt a cast on his shoulder, and stitches all over his body. He tried to stand up, but he realized that there was some tube in his arm, and when he tried to get up it fell out, and a nurse rushed in.
“A nurse rushed into his arm?”
Now that’s what I call targeted treatment!
“I don’t think you can get out of bed just yet.” she said as she put him back in his bed and re-inserted the tube. Jeff sat there, with no vision,
Well, the author of this thing had no vision, so it’s completely appropriate.
no idea of what his surroundings were. Finally, after hours, he heard his mother.
“Honey, are you okay?” she asked.
“He’s covered in bandages, stitches, and random medical doodads- what do you think?”
Jeff couldn’t answer though, his face was covered, and he was unable to speak. “Oh honey, I have great news. After all the witnesses told the police that Randy confessed of trying to attack you,
“Wait, Randy confessed? When? It can’t have been offscreen while Jeff was unconscious, because Jeff glubbing killed him!”
I think it means the rant Randy spouted at the start of the indoor half of the fight, where he claimed he was the one who got Liu sent to juvenile detention and wanted revenge. Only Randy never actually confessed to attacking the two in the first place, or really anything else, so there’s not actually a ‘confession’ there either.
they decided to let Liu go.” This made Jeff almost bolt up, stopping halfway, remembering the tube coming out of his arm. “He’ll be out by tomorrow, and then you two will be able to be together again.”
Jeff’s mother hugs Jeff and says her goodbyes. The next couple of weeks were those where Jeff was visited by his family.
A Tense Narrative Counter: 16
Then came the day where his bandages were to be removed. His family were all there to see it, what he would look like. As the doctors unwrapped the bandages from Jeff’s face everyone was on the edge of their seats. They waited until the last bandage holding the cover over his face was almost removed.
“Let’s hope for the best,” said the doctor.
Because apparently in the several weeks he’s been in the hospital, nobody bothered to change his bandages or check to see how his injuries were healing.
He quickly pulls the cloth; letting the rest fall from Jeff’s face.
Jeff’s mother screams at the sight of his face. Liu and Jeff’s dad stare awe-struck at his face.
“What? What happened to my face?” Jeff said. He rushed out of bed and ran to the bathroom. He looked in the mirror and saw the cause of the distress. His face. It… it’s horrible.
“The tense. It… it’s all over the map.”
A Tense Narrative Counter: 18
His lips were burnt to a deep shade of red. His face was turned into a pure white color, and his hair singed from brown to black.
That’s not how burns work. Especially the hair part.
I could buy his skin getting paler since it would partially be scar tissue (although not from a light sprinkling of alcohol- you’d need something that was actually, you know, seriously hot), but the same effect would make his lips paler, not darker… in fact, if his burns were severe enough, he might not have lips any more to begin with. And the whole thing about his hair being singed is just dumb– either it’d grow back its regular color, or (if his burns were somehow severe enough) not grow back at all.
A Tense Narrative Counter: 19
He slowly put his hand to his face. It had a sort of leathery feel to it now. He looked back at his family then back at the mirror.
“Jeff,” said Liu, “It’s not that bad…”
“Not that bad?” said Jeff,” It’s perfect!” His family were equally surprised. Jeff started laughing uncontrollably His parents noticed that his left eye and hand were twitching.
“A pretty serious problem that never manages to glub up his combat effectiveness in any way… mostly because it’s never mentioned again.”
“Uh… Jeff, are you okay?”
“Okay? I’ve never felt more happy! Ha ha ha ha ha haaaaaa, look at me. This face goes perfectly with me!”
What, a shallow, two-dimensional caricature?
He couldn’t stop laughing. He stroked his face feeling it. Looking at it in the mirror. What caused this?
“Vodka and bleach… somehow.”
Well, you may recall
Don’t tell me what to think!
that when Jeff was fighting Randy something in his mind, his sanity, snapped. Now he was left as a crazy killing machine,
Story, explaining it again doesn’t make it any less stupid.
that is, his parents didn’t know.
“Doctor,” said Jeff’s mom, “Is my son… alright, you know. In the head?”
“Oh yes, this behavior is typical for patients that have taken very large amounts of pain killers. If his behavior doesn’t change in a few weeks, bring him back here, and we’ll give him a psychological test.”
They’re releasing him while he’s still doped out of his mind?
“They’re releasing him immediately after taking off his bandages?”
“Oh thank you doctor.” Jeff’s mother went over to Jeff.” Jeff, sweety. It’s time to go.”
Jeff looks away from the mirror, his face still formed into a crazy smile. “Kay mommy, ha ha haaaaaaaaaaaa!”
You know, that sort of dialogue is getting old extremely quickly.
his mother took him by the shoulder and took him to get his clothes.
“This is what came in,” said the lady at the desk. Jeff’s mom looked down to see the black dress pants and white hoodie her son wore. Now they were clean of blood and now stitched together.
Because that’s totally something hospitals do free of charge…
Jeff’s mother led him to his room and made him put his clothes on. Then they left, not knowing that this was their final day of life.
Obvious foreshadowing is ominous.
Shit. I mean, ominous foreshadowing is obvious!
Fuck– I mean…
“Just let it go.”
Later that night, Jeff’s mother woke to a sound coming from the bathroom. It sounded as if someone was crying. She slowly walked over to see what it was. When she looked into the bathroom she saw a horrendous sight.
Jeff had taken a knife and carved a smile into his cheeks.
“Jeff, what are you doing?” asked his mother.
‘Carving a smile into my face with a knife, what does it look like I’m doing?’
Jeff looked over to his mother. “I couldn’t keep smiling mommy. It hurt after awhile.
“And now it’s gonna hurt a whole lot more.”
Now, I can smile forever.
“Or at least until you keel over from a massive infection because you won’t let anybody treat the enormous glubbing slashes you just put in your face.”
Also, I was wondering just when Jeff would go full Joker-ripoff… I guess it’s now.
Jeff’s mother noticed his eyes, ringed in black.
“Jeff, your eyes!” His eyes were seemingly never closing.
“I couldn’t see my face. I got tired and my eyes started to close. I burned out the eyelids so I could forever see myself; my new face.”
*Nina leans closer to the screen and slightly retracts her eyeballs back into their sockets, revealing the thin, transparent membranes that cover them.*
“See those films? Back near the start of the War, UNITY interrogators realized that pretty much the worst thing they could do to us was peel those off. Without them, your eyes’ll start to dry out, and get all sorts of dirt and dust in them, and you’ll slowly, painfully go blind.
Human eyelids aren’t see-through and you can only keep them closed once and a while, but it’s the same basic principle.
Oh yeah. Except in flat-faces, eyes do not grow back!”
I’ve got to admit- a blind, bald, lipless, mindless, gangrene-riddled thirteen-year-old serial killer with muscle spasms would definitely make for an interesting story, but somehow I doubt this author has the literary chops to pull it off.
Seriously, though- Jeff’s been out of the ICU for all of six hours and he’s already going to get himself sent back in!
Jeff’s mother slowly started to back away, seeing that her son was going insane. “What’s wrong mommy? Aren’t I beautiful?
“Yes son,” she said, “Yes you are. L-let me go get daddy, so he can see your face.” She ran into the room and shook Jeff’s dad from his sleep. “Honey, get the gun we…”
… need to do what, exactly? So far, the only person Jeff’s threatening to kill slowly and painfully is himself.
She stopped as she saw Jeff in the doorway, holding a knife.
“Mommy, you lied.”
“How did he know that? Did his burns give him super-hearing, too?”
That’s the last thing they hear as Jeff rushes them with the knife, gutting both of them.
“Well, that was quick.”
And… kind of gratuitous, actually. I get that Jeff is supposed to be a monster in these stories, but (as we’ll get to at the end) he’s also developed a massive fandom that actually likes him as a person, and I suppose the closest thing to this story in terms of conventional horror are slasher-movie killers, who the audience is also supposed to root for to some degree. Usually, villain-protagonist stories start out with the first victims being people who were as bad as or worse than the protagonist- but here, Jeff’s parents aren’t so much evil as they are just kind of… distant and clueless, and as the story progresses they actually become better people and start showing more affection to their children. I really don’t see why they deserved to die here. Other than that the author was himself in one of those ‘I hate my parents and wish they were dead’ phases, of course.
His brother Liu woke up, startled by some noise.
A Tense Narrative Counter: 20
He didn’t hear anything else, so he just shut his eyes and tried to go back to sleep.
“So I guess Jeff gutted both of his parents really, really quietly, then.”
As he was on the border of slumber, he got the strangest feeling that someone was watching him. He looked up, before Jeff’s hand covered his mouth. He slowly raised the knife ready to plunge it into Liu.
“Liu slowly raised the knife to plunge into… himself?”
Liu thrashed here and there trying to escape Jeff’s grip.
“Shhhhhhh,” Jeff said. “Just go to sleep.”
Spoiler alert: he survives.
And that’s Jeff the Killer. It… blows.
And I’m not being hyperbolic when I say that it might actually have been bigger than Slenderman in its heyday. Really, Jeff the Killer was one of the major populisers of creepypasta as a genre, and more than that it fundamentally altered the way pastas were written. Before Jeff, creepypasta was pretty much the domain of/x/ and r/nosleep, with the associated glut of lost-episode and haunted-game stories. This is the story that opened the door to more emotional, non-Internet-themed material, and really broadened creepypasta beyond its stuck-in-the-90s roots. Although as you can probably guess from the story’s content, most of the new fans were angsty teens, so I’ll be generous and call it a lateral move.
And, of course, with the increase in fandom came the shippers.
“That’s right… there’s flat-face females out there (and I’d imagine some males, too) who want nothing more than to fuck Jeff the Killer.
Who, I’d just like to remind you, looks like this:”
Although a lot of the fanart, predictably, goes the kawaii-desu-desu route with his appearance:
“Bleh… I still wouldn’t do him.
Also, he’s still supposed to be thirteen years old.”
There was one good thing about the story, though- when it was deleted in 2014, Creepypasta Wiki adopted much stricter quality standards and started shuffling many of the truly awful stories off to the Trollpasta and Spinpasta wikis.
“It’s still not good– if it was, we wouldn’t be here- but just think about what it must have been like before the purge.”