Levi's JtK Rewrite

Jeff the Killer

“Ready for Billy’s party?”
Jeff nods excitedly, taking his seat at the table.
“Is that what you’re wearing?” his mother asks in the tone that makes it clear that’s not what she thinks he should be wearing.
“Yeah,” Jeff replies, pretending he had not picked up on the subtext. He looks over the breakfast table.
Jeff’s mother scowls slightly, glances towards Liu, and changes the subject.
“Are you driving to school tomorrow, Liu?”
“Yeah, I think so,” Liu nods, swallowing a forkful of scrambled eggs.
“Maybe you could drop your little brother off at the middle school, then?”
“It’s kind of out of the way,” Liu says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.
“It’s fine,” Jeff cuts in, “I can just take the bus.”
“You could at least drop Jeff off at Billy’s party after breakfast,” Jeff’s mom adds with a light smile.
“I suppose so,” Liu sighs.
“Kind of odd to have a birthday party this early isn’t it?” Jeff’s father complains loudly at the head of the table from behind the day’s paper.
“Barbara mentioned that they both work late shifts, dear. This would be the only time that they could make it work.”
“Who works on a Sunday?” Jeff’s dad asks angrily, towards nobody in particular.
In the absence of an answer, Jeff quietly takes a bite into a banana.
“Don’t eat too much,” his mom warns, “They might be serving food at the party.”
“They might not,” Jeff counters between bites.
Liu finishes his meal, loudly setting down his silverware on his plate.
“You ready to go?” he asks his younger brother.
“Sure,” Jeff replies, getting to his feet.
 “You know where Billy’s house is?” Liu asks as they approach the backdoor.
“It’s in the neighborhood across from the grocery store,” his mother answers before Jeff can even get his mouth open.
“That’s really close,” Liu thinks aloud, “Why aren’t you biking there?”
“His bike was lost in the move,” his mother again answers in Jeff’s stead.
Jeff shoots a sour glance back. Liu smirks, humored, and opens the back door. Both brothers step quickly through the doorway out into the morning sunlight.
“Have fun!” Jeff’s mom says brightly as her sons close the door behind themselves.
“I hope he has a good time,” she says wishfully towards the door, eliciting a simple grunt of agreement from her husband.

“Which house is it?” Liu asks, peering at row after row of identical homes.
“It’s over there,” Jeff answers, recognizing the building and pointing his finger towards an utterly unremarkable, two-floor suburban home.
Liu cranks the wheel, turning the car sharply in front of the house. Jeff nervously climbs out of the car.
“I’ll pick you up in two hours, that good?”
“Yeah, thanks,” Jeff nods, “See ‘ya.”
Liu drives off, leaving Jeff standing on the sidewalk in front of the strange house.
 Billy’s parents had helped Jeff’s family move into their new house and had felt inclined to invite Jeff out to the party to welcome him to the neighborhood. Their kindness placed Jeff in a somewhat uncomfortable position, however, as he now has to attend a party of guests he has never met before.
“Should be a good way to meet people,” Jeff says to himself, hoping to make more friends in this neighborhood than his last one.
He approaches the front door apprehensively, and once he is there, he still hesitates to knock.
“You must be Jeff!” Billy’s mom says happily, opening the door from the inside before he has time to overcome his anxiousness.
“Hello,” Jeff greets her uncomfortably.
“Well, the kids are out back, why don’t you run along and play?”
She doesn’t wait for a response, instead closing the door and leaving Jeff alone. With a frown, he turns away from the shut door and meanders around to the backyard.
“Who are you?” a gangly kid in an Abercrombie top sneers upon seeing Jeff.
“I’m Jeff; I’m new,” Jeff answers timidly. He looks out over the backyard. Most of the kids seem like they still go to elementary school, and they currently occupy themselves with a game of tag. The only kids near Jeff’s age are the three standing in front of him.
“You’re Liu’s lil’ brother, aren’t you?” another one of the three butts into the conversation.
“Shut up, Troy!” the Abercrombie kid cuts him off, “I’m talking!”
“What are your names?” Jeff asks in attempt to make amends for whatever he did to spite the trio.
“I’m Randy, you snotnose. This is Troy and this is Keith.”
“Why are you guys here?” Jeff asks, unsure why these older kids would hang out with the younger children.
“It’s my cousin’s party,” Keith answers before Randy cuts him off with an incredulous glance.
“It’s none of your business,” Randy answers, though Keith’s previous statement severly undermines his own, “Why are you at a little kid party, smallfry?”
“I didn’t know Billy was so young,” Jeff answers sheepishly, unsure what else to say.
Randy scoffs.
“Look, kid,” he says, putting an arm over Jeff’s shoulder. Jeff can’t help but flinch from the contact.
“I’ll let you off easy, this time,” Randy continues, “I dunno want to hang out with a little rat like you. Just scram and we’ll let you go, alright?”
Jeff nods slowly.
“Now, go on, get outta here,” Randy laughs, withdrawing his arm from Jeff.
With hurried breaths, Jeff scurries back the way he came, fighting back tears. He trips over his own feet once in the street, scratching his knees over the pavement.
He keeps moving, wishing to be anywhere but where he is.
Jeff knows it might take a while to get back home on foot, but dreads returning to the house he had just come from. Besides, even if he made a call home, his mom would insist he stay to meet friends.
On his own, his jog turns to a tired walk as he follows the main street back to his house.
He tries to think of what excuse he could tell his parents as he kicks a small stone ahead of him. The rock bounces into a sewer drain, and Jeff casts a final look back towards Billy’s house before muttering under his breath:
“I hope I never see them again.”

“Look who shows up!” Randy laughs the very next day, seeing Jeff’s nervous approach to their spot at the edge of the road. Troy and Keith stand just behind their leader.  Jeff and the other three make up the only ones waiting at the bus stop this Monday morning. As he apprehensively steps closer, Jeff desperately wishes his brother didn’t go to highschool.
“You liking the neighborhood? Meet any new friends?” Randy smirks as he speaks, enjoying himself.
Jeff looks down, trying not to provoke Randy.
“What? Don’t feel like talking?” he takes a step closer to Jeff as he speaks and leans into Jeff’s ear, “Hey! Say something, stupid!”
“I don’t want to talk to you,” Jeff says quietly.
“You think you’re better than me?” Randy cocks his head and gives Jeff a shove. Keith snickers.
Jeff stays on his feet, saying nothing.
“Hey, bus coming,” Troy warns.
The three stand straight and look ahead, showing no sign that they had any interaction with Jeff. Once the bus stops, they board.

“Hey, Jeff, nice to see you buddy!” Randy calls out on Tuesday as Jeff again wearily trudges towards the bus stop.
“Why you look so glum?”
“Is this going to be a daily thing?” Jeff asks hopelessly.
“Is you being stupid going to be a daily thing?”
Jeff shakes his head with frustration and looks around for somewhere else he might be able to wait for the bus. They stand at the end of their road, far from eyesight of any of the neighbor houses.
“What’chu lookin’ for?” Randy asks, giving Jeff a sharp slap on the cheek.
“Just stop!” Jeff yells in a feeble attempt to stand his own ground. All humor drains from Randy’s face. He lets out a single dry chuckle and then drives his knee into Jeff’s groin.
“Hey, bus coming!”
As the bus rolls up, Jeff slowly gets to his feet, grinding his teeth. An easy smile hangs on Randy’s face, and they board the bus.
On Wednesday, Jeff convinces Liu to drive him to school.
“Why’d you need the ride?” Liu asks as they pass Randy, Troy, and Keith at the side of the road. Jeff shrinks down in his chair to avoid detection.
“Them?” Liu asks, making the connection.
Jeff answers by a small nod.
“You know running away isn’t going to solve anything,” Liu points out, “Besides, you’ll have to ride home with them anyways; I have football practice.”
“I know,” Jeff sighs.
“You just gotta…” Liu starts before trailing off as he realizes his lack of knowledge when it comes to dealing with bullies. With a frown, he keeps the car cruising down the road.
“I’ll deal with them somehow,” Jeff says quietly, “I just needed a break.”
“I understand,” Liu answers sternly, “It is best you deal with them on your own, but I can drive you if you need it.”
“Thanks,” Jeff says quietly, growing sick of his brother protecting him. He shakes the idea out of his head. Liu is just being kind.
“Well, see you tonight,” Liu says after a silent rides as he pulls in the middle school parking lot.
“Yeah, see ‘ya.”
Jeff steps out of the car and walks to the entrance. He wonders how he’ll deal with the bullies as he watches a schoolbus roll up.

“Good morning Jeffy!” Randy calls as Jeff approaches the bus stop the next day.
“He looks sad,” Keith laughs quietly.
“Ah, what are you sad about?” Randy asks, “Is it because you’re a loser who sits alone at lunch? Is it because nobody talks to you in class?”
Jeff plants his feet.
“I’d honestly think you’d be glad to see us; who else do you ever talk to? I’ll bet we’re the best friends you have, aren’t we?”
Randy’s target stares quietly at his own feet.
“What’s that you’ve got there?” Randy asks, “Did you bring a packed lunch today?”
Before Jeff can react, Troy snatches the bagged lunch from his hand.
“Hey! Give that back!”
“Why?” Randy chuckles, opening the bag that Troy has handed to him, “You got something good in here?”
“It’s mine!” Jeff yowls, snatching at the brown paper bag.
Randy replies by tossing a knuckle into Jeff’s eye.
“Stay down, you little shit.”
Jeff clutches his eye, curling into a ball on the ground. Without a percievable shred of guilt, Randy eats Jeff’s lunch to sooth his underfed stomach. Randy hadn’t eaten since yesterday at school.
“There’s the bus.”
“Get him to his feet,” Randy commands and in response, Keith pulls Jeff up to a standing position. He wearily steps onto the bus.

On Friday morning, Jeff timidly approaches the bus stop with a blackened eye. He cannot see the other three anywhere around.
“Maybe they died,” he jokes quietly to himself, knowing that in all likelihood they simply occupy themselves with a game of hooky. Nevertheless, Jeff finds that considering their demise brings a soft smile to his face.
He imagines Randy giving him a shove, only for Randy to end up with a knife in his gut.
As the bus rolls up, Jeff smiles a genuine smile for the first time since first meeting Randy.

The blackened skin around Jeff’s eye has faded to a light blue by the time that next Monday rears its ugly head. Randy and his cronies continue to harass Jeff, knocking him down, roughing him up, and occasionally stealing his lunch. Despite this, a faint smile hangs around Jeff’s lips.
He becomes intoxicated with the idea of killing Randy.
It’s not an actual plan in his mind; Jeff would never intentionally harm Randy. He knows that he would never kill somebody, but the idea that he’s capable of it warms his soul. It makes him feel powerful, something he can’t recall ever feeling before. At any time, he could cut Randy loose. If Jeff deciding to kill Randy, there’s not a damn thing Randy could do to stop him.
Jeff would never do it, but it meant the world that he could.
Randy shoves Jeff down forcefully, only to have Jeff calmly rise back to his feet. In time, Randy stops pushing so hard, yet a cold glare gleams in his eyes as he tries to calculate the source of Jeff’s indifference.
At night, Randy paces dreadfully back to his trailer home, where his mother berates him or entirely neglects his presence.

“What’s with Jeff?” Randy asks Keith as they sit out by the bleachers outside the school.
“He seems cold lately,” Keith observes.
“Yeah, I mean, that kid’s starting to give me the creeps,” Randy confesses, running a hand nervously through his hair, “The other day he walked by and just smirked at me. I dunno, there was something so hateful about it.”
“We give him a pretty hard time,” Keith points out.
“Yeah, I mean, we give all the new kids a hard time,” Randy frowns, “I recall being knocked around a bit when I first came to town too.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Keith admits, “Maybe there is something off about him.”

The next day, their suspicions are confirmed as they snatch away Jeff’s backpack at the bus stop.
“Give it back!” Jeff growls as they toss the bag back and forth.
“Or what?” Troy asks with a playful grin, happy they have managed to draw a reaction from Jeff.
Jeff avoids answering Troy’s question, instead swiping feebly at the bag as it flies through the air above his head.
“What’s it worth to you?” Randy asks catching the bag and quickly unzipping it.
“Stop that!” Jeff charges forwards. Troy catches Jeff by the arm, and Keith laughs as Randy dumps the backpack’s contents out over the gravel road.
“What’s this?” Randy asks aloud, curiosity setting into his tone. He picks up a small stack of stapled papers. Looking over the pages, he reads aloud the title:
“Jeff the Killer, eh? What’s this? Did you write this?”
“Give it back!” Jeff snaps, still restrained by Troy.
“Ominous unknown killer is still at large!” Randy laughs, reading from the front page, “What is this garbage?”
Overcome with frustration, Jeff’s eyes water and he continues to struggle in vain against Troy’s grip. Randy reads the story with amusement as Keith scans it from behind his shoulder. Tongue planted firmly in cheek, Randy narrates an excerpt from Jeff’s 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. 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.”
Troy and Keith snicker.
“You’re pathetic,” Randy scoffs, finishing the story as the school bus rolls around the corner. He pauses for a moment as he sees the picture on the last page, a poorly photo-shopped photo of a face staring into the camera. The skin has been altered to white, the eyes given a piercing glare, and an inhuman smile wraps the face. From the story, Randy recognizes the figure as Jeff with bleached skin, burnt off eyelids, and a cut-out smile. Randy can feel his skin crawl slightly as he looks at the photo, and he quickly crumples it up along with the rest of the story before discarding it into the bushes in the ditch.
As the bus stops, Randy, Keith, and Troy calmly board the steps, but Jeff grabs his story from the shrubs and runs off in the other direction, back towards his house. He doesn’t bother looking back to see if the bus waits for him.

Back home, Jeff finds his front door locked; everyone else has gone to work or school. He quickly clambers in through his and Liu’s bedroom window. Heavy breaths shoot from his mouth as he angrily tosses a chair across the room. He looks at his reflection in the mirror, seeing a scrawny powerless teenager glaring back at him in utter contempt.
They laughed at him.
The thought digs in through his skull, and he feels rage swell over his emotions. How could they laugh at him? They were supposed to be scared!
With newfound purpose, Jeff grabs bottle of bleach from under the bathroom sink and finds a lighter in Liu’s dresser drawer. He could become the killer. With a determined nod, Jeff sets his supplies on the counter along with his crumpled story, eager to alter his unimposing features. In his mind he pictures the deformed white face and soulless eyes.
Standing at the bathroom sink, Jeff takes a deep breath before dumping the bleach over his face.
He lets out a yowl of pain, dropping the bottle and clawing feverishly at his own face. The liquid stings into his eyes, squeezing beneath his clenched eyelids. With fumbling movements, Jeff struggles to turn on the tap below, unable to find it without sight. While the nerves in his face fire chaotically in a panicked frenzy, his fingers happen to catch on the faucet handle.
After he quickly twists the tap on, he splashes water into his face and eyes, desperate to clean off the sting.
He fights to see out of his aching eyes, forcing himself to look at his reflection.
With disappointment, he sees that the reflection’s skin has been burned to sharp red as though run through poison ivy.
“That’s not how it’s supposed to look,” Jeff moans, still hurting.
As the ache subsides ever so slightly, Jeff grabs the lighter and flicks a flame to life.
“Eyelids next,” he mutters, dreading the next step but not quite doubting its necessity.
Keeping his right eye wide open, he draws the flame closer. Having learned from the bleach, he keeps the sink running, creating a constant background noise of water splashing against ceramic. Above the sound, Jeff can make out his own uneven breathing as he pulls out his eyelid with his free hand. Stretching the eyelid as far from his face as he can manage, he quickly presses the flame into the delicate skin.
His muscles tense for a moment as shock prevents his body from registering the pain. Through the mirror with his left eye, he can see the flame eat at his right eye until it jumps with a slight breeze into the eye itself.
All at once, the pain crashes into him and Jeff drops the lighter with an unrestrained cry. He presses his hands to the damaged region, covering his burnt eye and collapsing to the floor. Snot runs wet from his nose and his eyes well up against the pain.
Withdrawing his hand from right eye he finds he cannot see out of it. He looks over its image in the mirror with his other eye, seeing a red cornea with a severely burnt but functional eyelid.
“Damn it,” he curses in a low groan.
With shaking hands, he un-crumples the altered image from his story. He looks over its eerie features and then at his own pathetic injuries.
If anything, Randy would only be humored by his appearance.
“It’s not how I look,” Jeff tries to convince himself, “It’s my actions that matter.”
He lets the picture drop from his hands and it lands in the spilled bleach on the floor. The picture slowly soaks into the pool, its ink image dissolving into nothingness.

“I’m telling you, that picture was kind of creepy,” Randy says to Troy as they ride the school bus back home.
“What do you mean, creepy?” Keith cuts his, leaning over the seat ahead of them.
“I dunno,” Randy admits, “It just had this unnatural smile and these wide eyes; the whole thing kind of unnerved me.”
“What kind of person writes a story like that?” Troy wonders out loud.
“Yeah, like, should we get him help or something?” Keith adds.
“Who could help him? And wouldn’t he just rat on us?” Troy points out flatly. A bump knocks the bus up and quickly down again.
Randy stares out the window, unsure how they should respond now. He speaks just below a whisper:
“I hope I never see him again.”

Much later that night, Jeff stands outside Randy’s trailer home, shaking nervously. Through the window, he observes Randy sitting alone in the living room, his mom having left just minutes ago.
Trying to take deep breaths, Jeff looks over the kid lounging on the recliner. Randy sips from an opened soda can, intently watching the television.
Could Jeff really kill him?
He shuts his functional eye, feeling a cold sweat over his skin. Jeff knows that Randy has not done enough to deserve death, yet as Jeff ponders it further, he realizes that he himself has not done enough to deserve fear.
Jeff stands before the door and raises a clenched, trembling fist to knock on the door.
This is what he wants, yet he can’t bring himself to knock. Every muscle in Jeff’s body tenses as he doubts his own ability to go through with his intentions.
“This is what I want,” he says quietly to himself, repeating the phrase through his head.
You’ve just got to go quick, he tells himself. It’s like jumping into a pool or ripping off a Band-Aid, you’ve just got to get it over with. It’s what you want, after all; don’t think about it.
He raps his fist against the door.
“Jeff?” Randy asks in confusion
“Hello, Randy,” Jeff says, his white hoody pulled up to conceal as much of his face as possible, “May I come in?”
Randy stares dumbly at Jeff’s red face as he gently pushes his way past the threshold.
“What happened to you?” Randy asks with concern. Jeff turns towards him, giving a full view of his right eye, completely swollen shut.
Both observe each other.
Jeff looks over Randy’s expression, looking for justification to harm him. I could do it, he tells himself over and over, this is what I want.
“I think you should see a doctor,” Randy says at last, clearly unsure of what else to say.
With pity, Jeff stares out his good eye.
“You should fear me,” Jeff says aloud, anger grinding beneath his boyish voice.
“I really think you need help,” Randy manages to say at last. Shaking from his nerves, Jeff slides his concealed knife into his hand.
Randy barely realizes what it is before it’s halfway into his gut.
Neither of them moves a muscle, both frozen in contact. Randy’s eyes bulge as he looks at his own wound. He falls backwards onto the floor, leaving Jeff standing with the knife.
“Help!” Randy screams, clutching his wound, “Somebody help!”
“Quiet!” Jeff hisses, worried somebody might overhear. He hurries over the Randy, but Randy crawls away, kicking feebly Jeff.
Randy’s foot hits Jeff in his burnt eye.
“Stop, just stop it!” Jeff cries, managing to grab Randy’s legs. He pulls the injured kid closer and jams the knife into his stomach again.
Randy lets out an animalistic scream, bludgeoning Jeff in a thrashing panic. He manages to slide out from Jeff’s grasp, and slithers across the floor to the phone on the wall.
“Shit,” Jeff swears, grabbing Randy’s foot and yanking him out of arm’s reach of the phone.
“Help!” Randy manages to scream again, leaving a trail of blood in his wake as Jeff drags him back into his living room. The television loudly plays commercials, uninterested in the struggle before it.
“Somebody help!” Randy screeches, his voice cracking while Jeff quickly works to lower the blinds on the windows. Jeff turns back to Randy, seeing him huddling into the corner, his legs and arms tucked in as if to preserve body heat.
“Please stop yelling!” Jeff pleads in a panic, running forward and knowing the neighbors could easily hear Randy’s cries.
“Help!” Randy screams again, and Jeff tries shoving his hand into Randy’s mouth to shut him up. With sharp convulsions Randy gags on the hand, squirming to escape from Jeff. Jeff slides the knife into Randy’s body again and again, praying that Randy would just bleed out quickly.
Despite Randy’s makeshift gag, he manages a piercing muffled cry.
“Stop struggling!” Jeff urges him, sticking the knife into his gut once more. Randy manages to kick Jeff off of him, with Jeff losing his grip on the knife.
Randy curls up into a fetal position on the living room floor, his arms attempting in vain to cover the stab wounds.
Jeff just stares, his adrenaline starting to dwindle as Randy quiets down.
Over the happy sound-bites of the television and the near-deafening pounding of his own heart, Jeff can hear each labored breath coming from the wounded animal in the corner.
“Please just die, already,” Jeff begs, his voice weak. Randy’s body limply rises up and down. Again and again.
Jeff looks down the hall towards Randy’s room, seeing scattered belongings and old childhood toys. He imagines his mom coming home to find the body.
“This is what I want,” Jeff whimpers, drained of emotion.
He knows there’s nothing anybody could do to save Randy now.
Rising to his feet with sudden shiver, Jeff steps forward to Randy’s breathing corpse. He draws his knife from its cushion, and can see Randy’s eyes feverishly watching.
Jeff knows that he risks getting caught if he stays, but dreads leaving Randy alone in his time of dying.
He sits down, cradling Randy’s head.
“I can’t feel,” Randy mumbles deliriously, his body growing unnaturally still.
“I can’t feel,” the dying kid repeats, his mouth hanging limply open.
Jeff’s throat dries and he clears it with a short cough.
“Shhh, it’s alright,” Jeff says quietly in a feeble attempt to comfort him. The warmth from Randy dissipates little by little, and Jeff can faintly feel him growing colder to the touch. He truly wishes he could help Randy, but he’s powerless to undo what he’s done.
“I can’t feel…”
"Shhhhhhh," Jeff says, "Just go to sleep."