1564: Eyeless Jack, Jane the Killer, Cleo the Killer, and Mindless Max – Creepypasta One-Shots

Title: Eyeless Jack
Author: Azelf5000
Media:  n/a
Topic: “Original”
Genre: Creepypasta
URL: Trollpasta Wiki Rehost

Title: Jane The Killer, Cleo The Killer, and Max The Killer Mindless Max
Author: DrakesStorytimeProfile did the last one, other than that no idea.
Media:  n/a
Topic: Jeff the Killer
Genre: Creepypasta
URL: Jane, Cleo, and Max

Critiqued by Admiral Sakai and Nina

 

-WARNING-

Like anything to do with Jeff the Killer, the pastas under review today are really, profoundly not scary but do contain substantial flamebait in their tactless approach to violent crime, bullying (cyber and regular), mass shootings, and mental illness. They are 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! Grab a thing of bleach and keep an eye out for any skateboarding Marine bullies, because it’s that time again…

“Today we’ve got… actually a lot to deal with, but we’re starting with one of the less popular ‘megapastas’- it stayed on CPW until it got caught up in the Jeff Purges, at which point it was shuffled off to Trollpasta when the author came to their senses. It’s.. nothing special, but it is pretty bad. Here’s Eyeless Jack.”

Hello, my name is Mitch. I’m here to tell you guys about an experience I had. I don’t know if it was paranormal or whatever stupid words people use to describe supernatural phenomena, but after that thing visited me, I believe in that paranormal trash, now.

Well, you sure as hell don’t sound convinced…

“’That paranormal trash’?

I’m not sure, but I think I should be insulted!”

A week after I moved in with my brother, Edwin, after my house was foreclosed, I finished unpacking. Edwin liked the idea of me moving in, since we had not seen each other after 10 years, so I was excited, too. I soon fell asleep after I moved in.

“So, to put things in order, he doesn’t see his crechemate for ten years, spends a week unpacking, and only then falls asleep?”

And people say I have problems with work-life balance…

After that 1 week, I heard rustling noises coming from outside at about one in the morning.

Why were you awake at one in the morning?

I thought it was a raccoon, so I ignored and tried to fall asleep. The next morning, I told Edwin about it, and he agreed.

The next night, however, I thought I heard my window opening and a loud thump, as if something entered my room. I darted up and looked around my room, but I saw nothing.

“So… it never occurred to Mitch to check if his window was open? Because that’d tell him pretty glubbing quickly whether he should go back to sleep or summon the Guard.”

I mean, come on, even the Prologue Kid from Jeff the Killer figured that one out…

The next morning, Edwin dropped his coffee cup when he saw me. He held up a nearby mirror and I saw myself. I had a large gash in my left cheek.

“Which didn’t hurt for… some reason…”

I mean, yeah, maybe the monster’s claws secrete some sort of powerful numbing agent or whatever, but this is the sort of thing you need to explain… or, you know, at least fucking MENTION…

After I was rushed to the hospital, my doctor told me that I must have been sleepwalking, but then he showed me something that made my blood turn cold. He lifted up my shirt to reveal a sewn up incision where my kidneys were. I started in his eyes, my eyes widening. “You somehow lost your left kidney last night. We don’t know how, though. Sorry, Mitch.” my doctor told me.

“Man, losing a major organ while sleepwalking’s a real bummer, isn’t it?”

Yeah, I feel for the guy. It can’t have been a week ago that I was in the middle of a Machine Learning lecture and suddenly realized I’d dashed out of my apartment that morning without my right lung.

“…”

…

Seriously, though, WHAT THE FLIBBIBITY FUCK?!

“He slept through having his kidney ripped out, and didn’t even notice the cut until a medic showed it to him. Does this guy just not feel pain or something?”

The next night was my breaking point.

“And apparently the medics just… let him go immediately after that.”

Seriously, they don’t bother to check if it was removed cleanly or if there’s internal bleeding that needs to be treated? They don’t do any tests to try and figure out how it was removed? They don’t even notify the police??

…

Actually, I’m not sure the doctors should know his kidney was gone! They didn’t perform any kind of internal scan or examination, they just saw an incision in about the right place and assumed it went deep enough and there wasn’t a kidney beyond it.

“Well, remember, they’re medics in the Pastaverse… they probably see this sort of thing all the time.

Not because of the monsters, either- the characters in these things are just so glubbing incompetent they’re lucky to get to work each day without being pasted by a cargo truck while crossing the highway.”

Around midnight, I woke up to see a truly horrifying sight. I was staring face to face with a creature with a black hoodie

Seriously, why does every third monster or so have to have a hoodie? It’s not an inherently frightening piece of clothing!

and dark blue mask with no nose or mouth staring down at me. The thing that scared me the most was that it had no eyes. Just empty, black sockets. The creature also had some black substance dripping from it’s sockets. I grabbed the camera nearby on a mantel and took a picture.

“Because, when confronted with a horrible monster that might have taken out my kidney, my first response is to try to get it to hold still for a picture…”

And here is that picture, by the way- the author’s kid sibling showing off his/her Halloween costume Eyeless Jack in all his excessively-blurred, day-for-night-filtered glory.

It’s also worth noting that while his mask is described in the story as being dark blue, here it’s clearly white… and is that a Gadsden Flag on the wall in the top left corner?

After the picture took, the creature lunged at me

How polite of it to wait, then!

and tried to claw open my chest to get to my lungs.

Wait, how do you know that’s what it was going for? I mean, yeah, lungs are big so if you started clawing at a human chest you would probably hit them, but that doesn’t mean they were the target…

I stopped it by kicking it in the face.

“…

Eyeless Jack’s kind of a wimp.”

As I ran out of my room, I grabbed my wallet. I would need the money.

Umm…. why?

Seriously, why?

It’s not like the police charge money to come out and prevent you from being killed…

I ran out of my brother’s house into the night. I eventually ended up in the woods near Edwin’s house and tripped on a rock.

I fell unconscious and woke up in the hospital.

Welp.

“It’s not just Eyeless Jack… everyone in this story is pathetic.”

My doctor entered the room. The same one who treated me before. “I have good news and bad news, Mitch.” my doctor started. “The good news is that you had minor injuries, and your parents are going to pick you up.” I sighed with relief. “The bad news is that your brother has been killed by some… thing. Sorry.”

You know, I really do like the doctor in this. He sounds like he cares about his patients exactly as much as the audience does.

My parents took me back to Edwin’s house to collect my remaining belongings, which I did. Upon entering my room, I was scared, but remained calm. I grabbed my camera then stopped dead in my tracks. In the hallway leading to my room, I saw Edwin’s body

Which, apparently, is still around and not covered or anything because all the police are over at JDC and can’t even be arsed to send someone over to the site of a murder in order to take a statement.

and something small lying next to it. I picked up the small thing and entered my parent’s car, not mentioning Edwin’s corpse.

“Because, honestly, who gives a fuck about Edwin’s corpse?”

I looked at the thing I had picked up and nearly vomited. I was holding my stolen half-eaten kidney, with some black substance on it.

“Now, I’ll admit that I’ve got a lot more combat experience than most flat-faces could ever have… but if I picked up an object and it turned out to be my half-eaten kidney covered in monster vomit, I’d probably notice that before I took it outside!”

And that, really, is why Eyeless Jack is one of my favorite pastas- the entire story just has no fucks to give. From the doctor, to Edwin, to Eyeless Jack himself, everybody just goes through the motions of being in a creepypasta while showing the absolute minimum amount of emotional investment possible. It’s such an exercise in apathy that it becomes… strangely compelling.

Sadly, the same cannot be said of our other offerings today.

One of the other things that’s great about creepypasta as a subset of fanfiction is that for every multi-‘chapter’, Sonic.exe/Round 2-style magnum opus, there’s twenty or thirty stories that barely fill a single page… and are every bit as awful. And Jeff the Killer brought out the clones like no other story before or since.

Now, typically when I refer to ‘clones’ in the pastasphere I am talking about stories that rip off the main concept or pattern from another work but superficially restructure things to try to make themselves unique- i.e. “My lost episode is way better than Suicide Mouse, because mine has dead kids in it” or “My monster is totally different from The Rake because he’s called The Carnivore and has bones growing out of his elbows!” But these stories don’t even make it that far. Not only do they maintain pretty much the exact same angsty-teen framework, they also set themselves inside a shared universe with Jeff the Killer and even maintain the exact same <X> The Killer naming structure! I mean, I know copycat killers are a thing, but this is just absurd.

“First up, we’ve got one of the most popular of the clones- Jane The Killer, by… well, TPW says it’s by someone called AngryDogDesigns, but the link there just goes to a DeviantArt page that I can’t make any glubbing sense of, so I really don’t know who the glub wrote it.”

On a hot summer night around 4:33 in the morning,

Around 4:33 in the morning?

“But not, like, 4:30 or anything…”

as Jeff the Killer took another victim—this time, a young wife,

You know, this has relatively little to do with the story, but it still bothers me- in clickbait and tabloid media, there’s this weird trend to use family statuses like ‘dad’ or ‘wife’ instead of people’s actual jobs or even just ‘man’ or ‘woman’. For whatever reason, this seems to be disproportionately targeted at female subjects, and it creeps me the fuck out.

and also leaving her husband with a massive skull fracture as a result of blunt-force trauma, the only one to survive

“If only one survived from a family of at least three, then Jeff took victims, plural.”

was the couple’s 4-month-old baby that police have discovered crying in its crib.

I love how on CPW you can write all the stories you want about teens receiving horrible, agonizing, disfiguring burns from chemically dubious concoctions, but heaven forbid a baby gets hurt…

Along side the child, police have found a letter which was written on the back of a paper grocery bag in a black sharpie marker, and a Motorola Droid, faintly illuminated under the baby’s blanket.

Because that doesn’t date this story at all…

The babysitter who was locked in the closet during the time claimed

“If there was a crecheworker locked in the closet the whole time, then the baby wasn’t ‘the only one to survive’!”

Also, what was she doing in the closet? Did Jeff somehow manage to force her in there? If so, (putting aside the question of how he did it given that he’s thirteen years old and therefore about as physically imposing as Justin Beiber…) why not just kill her too? He’s not called Jeff The Locker In Closets, after all.

she smelled the lingering odor of women’s cheap perfume and found body glitter on the baby’s crib.

“…

Didn’t know Jeff was into the whole ‘scene’ thing.”

Don’t be judgemental, Jeff can express his identity however the fuck he wants.

Although I’m not sure how she knew it was women’s perfume to begin with. I’m not exactly an expert on this stuff, but I know that while perfume/cologne is definitely marketed in a segregated fashion there are a wide variety of scents and to me at least they always seemed to be ‘sorted’ pretty much at random.

But who was it from?

“Despite the intro sentence, I’m getting more and more sure that the answer is not ‘Jeff the Killer’.”

Police were able to decipher the writing on the grocery bag

“Good. Maybe after that they can try to decipher some of the writing in this ‘fic!”

and here’s what it said:

Jeff,

If you are reading this, know that no matter how many innocent victims you claim or how much innocent blood you shed, I’m still coming for you in the end.

“*SNERK*”

Fangirls.

What more is there to say?

All of the men and women you so viciously slaughtered and disemboweled, I beat you to it.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how killing works.”

I killed them not because I hate them, I imagined those victims were you as I took their lives. It was the mere vision of you that made me kill them.

‘I shall spite you by doing exactly what you want!’

I never did like you, you greasy-headed, grinning, smug, ignorant son of a bitch.

“Ok, I’ll admit, that was pretty good.”

My black eyes may look like I’m void of vision, but I’m not stupid.

“Although even if you’re not stupid (which I doubt) you’ll still be a pretty useless killer if you can’t glubbing see.”

Actually, why are her eyes completely black? According to other materials, Jane got disfigured in a bleach-and-fire incident very similar to Jeff’s- how the hell does that change the color of her sclera? It didn’t do it to Jeff…

Just remember, the night that you creep into a poor girl’s bedroom, you’re gonna fall head over heels down the fucking stairs with your guts caught on the broken glass of the window that I smashed you into.

Well that certainly went… somewhere.

“Why is there a window between the stairs and another room?”

Tonight, when I reach you, evil will battle evil, winner kills all, and the only one who will not get out alive is you.

If the winner kills all, how come Jeff is the only one not getting out alive?

[A LARGE LOGIC BOMB DETONATES IN THE MIDDLE OF THE CONTROL ROOM, DOUSING BOTH NINA AND THE ADMIRAL IN BLEACH AND ALCOHOL BEFORE RELEASING SEVERAL LARGE SPARKS. THIS DOES… EXTREMELY LITTLE.]

I’m coming. Sleep well.

“…

Too glubbing easy.”

Signed,

Jane the Killer

On the Droid phone, one of the officers found text in all caps, in red, with Jane’s picture… below is her face which she captured on the phone:

Aaand… it’s some random picture of a goth girl (or ‘scene’ girl, can’t really tell… or maybe some other subculture, I can never keep up-to-date on this shit), overexposed and with her eyes very crudely painted over. I don’t know what I was expecting, but somehow I’m still disappointed.

Seriously, though. A serial killer who wears a fake-pearl necklace and fucking body glitter.

Never let it be said that there is not a deep, deep well of weirdness in creepypasta.

NEXT!!

“Umm… *typetty typetty typetty* next up we’ve got Cleo The Killer, by… it’s just showing me an error message, so I guess this is another one where the author is completely unknown.”

And, honestly, if I’d written Cleo the Killer, I’d prefer to remain unknown too.

Seriously, what sick fuck names their child Cleo?

It was a bright and sunny day and Cleo was walking to school. She had no friends and mostly stayed alone.

Which means she’s automatically destined to become a serial killer.

Have I mentioned how much I hate this entire fucking fandom recently?

As she walked into the school yard she entered the building expecting someone to punch her AGAIN!

YIKES! *Dives under the console*

“GAAH!”

*Crawls out from under the console.* Sheesh, you’d better pray my heart starts back up again. No need to yell like that…

Instead they where all talking about this kid named Jeff who’s brother Liu had gone to jail for a year.

As opposed to talking directly about the kid named Liu who’d gone to jail for a year and maybe mentioning that he had a brother.

“It’s like they know Jeff’s the main character or something.”

I walked to my locker, it was right next to Jeff

Also, the entire rest of the ‘fic is in first person. In case it needed to make things any clearer that Cleo is a massive self-insert.

when I looked at him he had longer hair and roles under his eyes

Terrifying.

and he looked really depressed. I didn’t say anything. He looked at me and I looked away shyly.

…

Are you sure this is Jeff the Killer and not Darko Malfoy?

“There’s a difference?”

Good point.

All of a sudden these kids Ryan, Adam and Zack popped in front of me and pushed me.

Goddammit, who gave the bullies teleporters!?

At this point I just went bull freaking Jesus crazy on them.

…

“This pasta is complete glubbing Christ shit.”

What is this even supposed to have been? ‘Bullshit crazy’ doesn’t make any sense, and ‘Jesus Christ crazy’ sounds like she tried to proselytize to them.

I punched them kicked them slapped then kicked one in the balls. I got detention. Yep.

Which is why it’s a bad idea to punch, kick, slap, and kick your fellow students in the balls.

[BLARING ALARM BLARES]

Would you mind getting this one?

“Sure.”

*Nina spends the next ten minutes kicking, shooting, kicking, stabbing, punching, kicking, and kicking various DRD personnel. But never in the balls, that’s just gratuitous.*

After a few days I finally talked to Jeff

I said: “Um…hi I’m Cl…Cleo I’m sorry about your bro”. “It’s okay you didn’t do anything don’t be sorry oh and I’m Jeff.”

Few days later Jeff went crazy.

Wait… what?

This story begins after Liu got arrested (at least I assume he was formally arrested at some point… he kind of just got into a squad car and it drove off…). The original story says that two days went by between the arrest and Billy’s party, which is where Jeff went full Stu crazy. So, even assuming that Jeff went to school both of those days, how can ‘a few days’ pass before he and Cleo talked, and then another few days pass before the party?

“I dunno, maybe it has to do with all that weird ‘relativism’ stuff you’re always going on about?”

Relativity, and for Jeff to experience two days while Cleo experienced four he’d have to be traveling at about 86% the speed of light.

Which, seeing as it would cause him to fly out of Earth’s gravity well and rapidly exit the solar system, suddenly doesn’t seem like such a bad idea.

He went to the hospital cause a kid caught him on fire. He killed his parents and brother after he got out of JDC. After a month I snapped.

“Wow. Daybook much?”

This is like a creepypasta on extreme fast-forward.

Ryan, Adam and Zack came up and made fun of me hurt me.

“Oh for Cthulhu’s sake, they’re not the same thing!”

So I grabbed my pocket knife and carved ones eyes out, stabbed the other and ran off and left Ryan there bleeding while the others lie motionless.

“Why are all three down when she only stabbed two?”

I dunno, maybe the last guy got bored with the daybook action sequence and decided to take a quick nap.

I cut out my eyes and my mom came in while I was crying.

“How was she crying if she’d cut out her eyes?”

And what was her mom doing at the school?

…

Or, conversely, what were the bullies doing at her house?

“Sweetie what are you…HUH?” she said Cowardly while I was holding two knifes up to her “Sweetie, your eyes!”. “I can hear, and smell and feel people through the ground and air” I said to her.

And yes, it really is formatted like that in the original story.

“S…Sweetie please p…put the knifes down and we can sort this o…out” she said with her voice shaking. “No mom, go get dad and WE CAN SETTLE THIS!” I yelled. “Alright sweetie I will go get h…him” she said voice trembling in fear.

She ran to the bedroom. I slowly crept up the hall hearing what my mother was saying. “Sweetie get the gun and call the police!” she said as she saw me appear in the door way. “You lied just…like…Jeff’s parents.”

“Wait… how does she know what Jeff’s parents did?”

Maybe she read the creepypasta?

I said grabbing hold of both parents.

“… Hers and Jeff’s??”

As my dad shot up

“Her dad’s a druggie?”

I think it means he shot at her and hit the ceiling.

“Which means he’s got really glubbing terrible aim, since the target is literally right in front of him…”

the last thing they heard was: “FEEL THE PAIN LIKE I DID”.

Once again, I’m really not sure why her parents deserve to die. The only thing they could possibly have done wrong in this story is not take some kind of action to stop the bullies… except that they couldn’t have taken any action because Cleo never told them she was being bullied!

“Well, remember, they were the ones who named her ‘Cleo’ in the first place…”

Good point. Killing’s too good for them.

I said goodnight as I drew on the wall. On the wall it says “FEEL THE PAIN!”

“Meaning you wrote on the wall.”

And I’m feeling the pain, all right…

And I smiled and crawled out the window and disappeared into the woods.

And her eye sockets got infected and she began to starve and died happily ever after!

NEXT!!

“Looks like the last one, by DrakesStoryTimeProfile, isn’t a ‘the Killer’ story for once (and thank Great Cthulhu for that!)… except, well, it is pretty much another ‘the Killer’ story, it’s just called ‘Mindless Max‘ instead.”

“No, wait, that’s that other thing, isn’t it?”

Here’s the actual title picture:

So I guess the author’s little brother wanted to show off his new windbreaker, and thus a pasta was born?

Nice apartment, by the way. The painting of an elf with a unicorn growing out of her right eye socket really brings the room together.

I can’t believe I’m telling this.

“Me neither.”

I’m Drake and .

“Sounds like one of your horrible human sitcoms- The Totally Radical Life of Drake and [DATA EXPUNGED].”

I have been keeping this as a secret for a long time, until now. I live with my wife Morgan, my son Peter and daughter Carly. They don’t know when, when I was 11, I lost my brother.

It all began on Spring 1987, May 17 to be more detailed.

Will the date matter? No? Then we don’t care.

Me and my brother, Max, we’re playing in the front yard of my grandma’s house. We would often visit her, cause she didn’t have a long time to live anymore.

“… Well that got dark fast!”

It was really getting dark out, so we called our dad to pick us up. But for some weird reason, my dad rejected, he never did that.

That would be the Creepypasta Contrivance Fairy working her fell and terrible majjyycks.

The only chance to get home now was walking for a half hour.

“Why are all the parents in these stories massive glubbing assholes… except when it’s their fate to die horribly?”

We didn’t want to waste any time, we picked up two flashlights and began to walk.

As opposed to just spending the night on Grandma’s couch or something.

Max’ flashlight was really weak, so we only used mine.

“…

Bow chicka bow wow?”

Dude, they’re, like, thirteen and eleven. And also related.

After a few minutes, we somehow, got lost, in a forest.

Maybe that, was because their, vision, had been obstructed by, the thick, downpour of, commas?

My flashlight was getting weaker by the minute, and we only walked for about 15 minutes and we’re already tired.

“15 minutes?

These kids need to get off the glubbing couch once and a while.”

And brush up on the difference between ‘were’ and ‘we’re’.

There was no chance other choice than wait till daylight,

Does… does this author even know that the backspace key exists?

Max and I were getting really tired. We laid on the ground an tried to ignore the ants.

“The… ants??”

The ants.

“Oh, riiiiight. The ants!”

It took us long to fall asleep.I woke up first, and noticed my flashlight, was gone.

Having no idea where it went, but it didn’t care since it was early in the morning,

It also didn’t care because it was a flashlight.

the sun was finally coming up. I noticed that my cellphone battery was empty, if I only remembered that I had it with me!

A cell phone.

In 1987.

Spoiled little brat…

“I’m not really sure what a phone would do, though… They already called their guardian, and he flat-out refused to pick them up.”

Max woke up shortly after, but it seemed he was a few feet away from where he fell asleep. I also noticed that, blood was coming out of his mouth,random trees around the forest fell down, it didn’t look like an animals teeth, but, but, human teeth.

“Maybe that’s because they’re in a glubbing HUMAN.”

I remember in class the teacher said that it was impossible for human teeth to do that.

“Impossible for human teeth to do what? Fall down?”

I think the idea here is that Max gnawed through all the trees, causing them to fall down, and the marks on the trees matched the shape of his teeth.

Putting aside for the moment the fact that the story just said random trees around the forest fell down instead of having fallen down (implying that the falling happened all at once as Drake woke up), and speculation about what in the world would bring up the plausibility of human teeth cutting through trees in a fifth-grade class… we now officially have a Jeff the Killer clone who goes around at night gnawing through trees like a beaver on speed.

This is a glorious, glorious day in the history of the horror genre.

I asked Max if he saw anything at night. He just laughed and we moved on. He didn’t say a word, I felt like nature made him crazy.

I think I just failed my SAN roll.

I decided to ignore it. We moved on, things were getting stranger and weirder.

“Yes.

Yes they were.”

Max was getting insane, he threw up every 10 minutes or so, he was randomly tripping around.

That’s not insanity, that’s just Grandma’s casserole getting its revenge.

When the minute struck.

… is not a sentence.

He kicked me by the stomach,

“So… in the liver, then. Or maybe the pancreas.”

I threw up,

Just what is it with Jeff clones and people throwing up? I mean, it’s a perfectly reasonable reaction to Jeff the Killer if you’re a member of the audience, but in-universe?

I know he was going deadly insane.

Why, because he kicked you in near the stomach once?

“I’ve been wanting to do that since the story started.”

I kicked him in back in the head, he fell back, I jumped on him, punching him in the face multiple times. I didn’t knew why I was doing this.

…

Good question, actually.

Soon he grabbed me again and threw me against a tree, I was in massively in pain,

[BLARING ALARM BLARES]

*In massive numbers, DRD agents storm into RIFFCON in massive numbers.*

*AdmiralSakai holds up a picture of a prairie.*

*The DRD agents fall to the floor, screaming and gibbering insanely.*

I could not take it anymore, I roundhouse kicked him in the head,in the balls and the stomach, I know he will never be the same.

“Not after you roundhouse kicked him in the head he won’t be…”

He soon began punching me in the face. His fighting skills were outrageous.

Well of course they were! He’s a small child in a Jeff clone, they’re all seasoned martial artists for some damn reason.

I could not take it anymore, I began running, after about 5 minutes I ran out of stamina.

Awww, just chug a green potion, you’ll be fine.

“Also, for all of his hand-to-hand skill this kid’s still in terrible shape.”

Luckily, I was near a road, and saw a police car driving down it.

Well isn’t that just so goddamn convenient…

The police officer stopped and asked “What are you doing here? You seem injured, what wrong?”

…

I didn’t know Tarzan had gone into law enforcement.

I replied, “My brother is insane, please stop him!” Max ran towards the police can,

Unfortunately for its initial investors, the concept of portable, dehydrated police officers never really caught on.

as he ran, he tripped on a rock, and hitting the police car hardly.

“Does that mean he hit it hard, or that he hardly hit it?”

In this story, it could very well be either.

He passed out, as we took him to the hospital.

“Well that was anticlimactic…”

The police officer, by the way named Douglas, called my father and he picked me up. After 3 days, my father and I returned to check if he was okay.

Which -assuming ‘he’ meant Max and not Douglas- is kind of a long time to wait before checking to see whether or not a family member still alive.

“Then again, Mysterious Father Figure has elevated not giving a fuck whether his spawn live or die to an art form.”

Only to see, corpses of Nurses and Doctors all around the hospital.

“Which nobody has decided to do anything about for… I dunno, reasons?”

Probably the same Reasons their titles are randomly Capitalized.

As we investigated the place, I found documents that said “Max, 13 year old, massive mind loss. “

Massive. Mind. Loss.

Because that‘s totally a real medical term.

“I dunno, this story is definitely causing me some pretty massive mind loss…”

My brother was gone. Simply gone. A killer. Five years passed.

As many reports of unknown murders accrued in near areas.

Ok, first off, that’s not the right word. Nor the right punctuation.

“Second off… I find it very hard to believe that this idiot managed to stay on the run for five whole years, outrageous fighting skills or not. He tripped and knocked himself out on a police car, for glub’s sake!”

A hot Friday night, I heard weird noises around my house. I turned the lights on, only to see.. My fathers body, with a weird creäture, eating his heart. That creäture, was Max.

No, your eyes do not decieve you… those right there are fucking diaereses.

…

I quite honestly have no idea how, on the pure level of ones and zeroes, this even happened- not once but twice. Typically, entering that symbol on a computer is a complex and deliberate process requiring multiple keys to be held down at once and a numerical code entered, or the user has to open a graphical menu and select it from a list. Some word processors do auto-correct ‘ae’ to ‘ä’, but I doubt even this author would try to spell ‘creature’ as ‘creaeture’ twice in a row. I suppose the most likely explanation is that the author (who, considering the overall grammar of the story- or lack thereof- probably is not a native English speaker) was typing this on a keyboard like the German one that makes those symbols more easily accessible:

I ran out as fast as possible to the neighbour’s house. Just when they were about to call the police, Max shattered the window, gutting them with a knife.

“Ok, that kid does have outrageous fighting skills… in that I’m outraged to see him getting away with shit that I still can’t pull off after almost fifty years going hand to hand with UNITY’s finest!”

Then. He grabbed my mouth just about to stab me,

He grabbed… your mouth.

I’m sorry, I’m just having a very hard time imagining how that would make for an effective close-quarters hold.

but luckily, the next door neighbour called the police.

“Making the deaths of the first set of neighbors… completely glubbing pointless!”

Also, good to see the Local PD has gotten their response times down to a fraction of a second…

Just before he jumped out of the window, he said a sentence, that I will never forget.

“You’re next. Don’t even hide, I see you again. Hahahaha!!”

“That…”

Was two sentences. Yes. I know.

You know, I think I understand what really killed all the Jeff clones. It wasn’t the CPW quality purges or the fact that the recent uptick in mass shootings by IRL disturbed teenagers had made the whole thing a bit too real… it was just that they ran out of catchphrases.

 

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