#n-jeff

The room smelled funny. Musty, iron-y. Like...blood. At least he associated the smell with blood. He moved his head, a quiet groan escaping him. Ugh. where even was he? The surface around him was hard, and the floor felt uncomfortable under him. At the very least, his headache from the night before was gone. His eyes cracked open slightly. He was in a kitchen. It took him a few moments to realise it was the kitchen. The one he’d raided last night. He glanced to his side, realising with horror the fridge was still wide open too. ‘’Fuck-’’ 

And then the door across from him swung open. His head snapped to the side, staring with wide horrified eyes at the man standing in the doorway. Tall and muscular, Jeff could clearly see his strong arms due to the white wifebeater he was wearing. His black hair was messy and long, tied back in a ponytail. His skin looked burnt, discoloured in places, and his face adorned stitches on either side of his mouth. In an instant, his dark eyes were fixed on the smaller boy sat on the ground before they flicked to the fridge. 

‘’Ey, what the fuck?!’’ he stared at the fridge, as if in shock, before storming over. Jeff skittered backwards, away from the man who heavily reminded him of trailer parks he’d found himself sleeping in. He stopped at the fridge, rummaging around before his head snapped to the boy. He was glaring, angry as all hell. ‘’What the hell is your problem?!’’ 

Jeff flinched. ‘’I-I-’’

‘’You ate my damn jerky?!’’ 

Was- was he...was this guy angry about Jeff eating his beef jerky rather than breaking into his house? He didn’t have much time to think about it or say anything though, because he was abruptly grabbed and yanked up. He yelped, gripping the angry man’s wrist out of panic. ‘’What the hell?! Who the fuck do you think ya are, huh?!’’

‘’P-please I-’’ Jeff glanced around, desperately looking for a way out. God why did he have to put his knife in his backpack instead of his pocket?! His eyes fell on the doorway and they widened. More people were in the doorway! A teenage girl with bleached bangs and a much shorter boy with a...really weird face. But he wasn’t in any position to judge. ‘’Help!’’

‘’Stat what the fuck, are you doing.’’ the girl grunted. The man, apparently called Stat, snapped his head over to her. He snarled.

‘’Bitch ate my jerky!’’

‘’Yeah and you’re bein’ loud as fuck!’’ the girl snapped back. Her head snapped over to Jeff and her eyes narrowed. She strode over, her thick heels clomping against the kitchen tiles. She grabbed Jeff’s face, squeezing his cheeks and shoving her own face in his. He tried to pull away but her sharp acrylic nails dug into his leathery skin instead. She snarled, looking at him with disgust. ‘’Ew.’’ she eventually said. She looked at Stat. ‘’Put him down. He looks like he has a fuckin’ disease.’’

Stat growled and dropped Jeff. Still panicking, his head snapped to the side and he lunged for the window. The girl behind him yelped and snatched him, making a quiet noise that reminded him of a motor revving. She held him aloft with surprising strength and he squirmed in her arms. She suddenly smacked him before dropping him again. He yelped, holding his sore face in his hand, seething. His head panged and instinct seemed to suddenly kick in, making him swing his fist back and try a punch. The girl grabbed his arm and yanked him, sending him stumbling feebly into the counter.

‘’Nice one Lina!’’

He looked over his shoulder, taking in the room again. There were two other ways out. The back door, and the kitchen door which was wide open. He bolted for the kitchen door, past the weird-faced boy. Freedom and safety seemed to be right in his grasp, but then he smacked face first into a wall. With a feeble yelp he fell back, his gaze travelling up slowly. He froze.

That wasn’t a wall. That was a person. A giant as wide as he was tall. Eyes obscured by jet black hair, showing only a slit-mouthed smile. A terrified yell escaped him and he scampered back, whirling to his feet and bolting for the backdoor.

‘’Jesus christ someone gettim!’’ Stat yelled.

‘’Gettim yourself!’’ The girl, presumably named Praline, yelled back. Stat snarled and ran over, grabbing Jeff’s backpack and yanking him to the table. He yelped and thrashed, panicking like a wild animal. His head pounded, the voices filling it again and making him want to kick, punch, scratch, claw, bite- 

‘’What on earth is going on in here?! Stat! Oh dear lord is that a child?!’’ a new voice to add to the people Jeff was trying to identify and differentiate. It was higher pitched, with a southern drawl. Stat huffed, turning his head to the side. Jeff followed his gaze, glancing over at the door where two more people had joined the giant. He didn’t get a good glance at the other as he was distracted by the thinner, blonde man wildly gesturing and pointing at Stat. ‘’What do you think you’re doing?! Let go of him, the poor thing!’’

Stat’s face scrunched up in disgust. ‘’You stay outta this, ya fuckin’ fruit!’’

‘’PFFFT- HAH!’’

‘’Stay out of this Dally!’’ the blonde snapped his head over to the small boy from earlier before turning back to Stat. ‘’Let him go! Right now!’’

‘’Like hell I’m listenin’ ta you! You wanna fight or somethin’?!’’

‘’Stat,’’ another new voice. This one deeper and more relaxed, but still cautious. Jeff looked over at the voice’s owner. He was shorter and his face...half of it was obscured by black hair, and the other half looked horribly burnt. He padded toward Stat. ‘’Let the kid go.’’ he murmured. Stat scrunched his face up. It wasn’t until the man-giant crossed the kitchen and set a gigantic hand on Stat’s shoulder that he let go, shooting Jeff an unhappy look. Finally free from the angry trucker’s grasp, he sat up, looking around in fear. It was then he noticed something. All of them had...scars. Some similar to his own. Burns and a slit mouth. He blinked to make sure he wasn’t imagining it. ‘’You okay there?’’ The half-burnt man’s voice made Jeff turn to him. He crawled back on the table, trying to put distance between himself and him. ‘’Did Stat hurt ya?’’

He paused for a moment. No, no he...hadn’t really been hurt. Stat was rough but- it would bruise at worst. He palmed at his face where he’d been smacked. ‘’...t-the girl hit me.’’ he finally mumbled. 

The half-burnt man seemed to study Jeff for a moment before turning to the blonde. ‘’Blondie,’’ he said. ‘’Can ya take him to your room? Away from the others.’’

‘’Of course,’’ Blondie turned to Jeff, smiling kindly. He held out a hand. ‘’Come on dear, let's get you away from these brutes, hm?’’ he shot a glare at Stat, who rolled his eyes. Deciding he’d rather be with the friendly southerner with the girly nickname than the angry truck park resident, Jeff clambered off the table and followed him out of the kitchen. He glanced around the house as they walked. It seemed big- that was the reason he’d even broken in here in the first place. The house was big, and big houses meant rich people, and rich people meant plenty of food. Blondie led him to a bedroom. As he stepped inside he looked around. 

The bedroom seemed cozy. A nice rug on the floor, vinyls on a shelf, ornate furniture. It seemed homey. Comfortable. ‘’Here we are,’’ Blondie murmured behind him. ‘’I’m terribly sorry about all the hassle in the kitchen- but you’ll be safer here.’’ he shook his head, muttering to himself. Jeff hesitated, then slowly walked over to a wall and leaned against it. Close enough to the door but still casual enough for it to look like he was relaxing. Sort of. Blondie walked past him and took a seat on the bed. Jeff glanced around. The room looked...harmless. No sign of weapons. Of course, there were objects that could be repurposed into weapons. The plastic flamingo on the bedside table looked particularly threatening.

Blondie looked him over for a few moments. Jeff shifted. He looked a mess and he knew it. Long black hair flying out every which way, scruffy stolen clothes, a black backpack that was torn and stained with mud and blood, not to mention his skin...leathery and white, scarred with a permanent smile. Blondie tilted his head, smiling kindly. ‘’What’s your name dear? If you don’t mind telling me.’’

Jeff stared back for a second. Names. He didn’t give his name away, not in situations like these. Too risky. Police knew his name. He wanted to get out of the house, preferably without killing anyone. Could he even fight his way out? With so many people? 

‘’...Nathan.’’ 

‘’Nathan! Wonderful to meet you dear,’’ Blondie held out a hand to him. ‘’I’m Blondie.’’’ he smiled. Jeff- or rather, Nathan, reached over and shook his hand. He looked at Blondie for a moment. He had scars on his face- he’d been too panicked to really give them more than a glance before, but now he could see that and they were faded to an extent. Two lines running up from either corner of his mouth and another running across the bridge of his nose, along with a couple others. Nathan’s eyes lingered on the scars on Blondie’s cheeks for a few moments too long. Long enough for Blondie to notice. He didn’t seem offended though. Instead he tilted his head. ‘’Would it...be okay for me to ask you a couple of questions, Nathan?’’

He hesitated for a second, then nodded. Blondie smiled. ‘’Good. For a start...how old are you?’’

He shrugged. ‘’...sixteen.’’

‘’Sixteen...’’ Blondie seemed to ponder on his age for a moment. Nathan shifted. He didn’t exactly look it- with his face mutilated and burnt, not to mention he didn’t exactly eat properly, so he hadn’t grown as tall as he probably should’ve. He looked away. ‘’And...where did you come from?’’

He glanced at Blondie. ‘’What do you mean?’’

Blondie furrowed his brows. ‘’What...made you come here?’’

Made him come here? What did that mean-? Nothing had...made him come there but- thinking about it...the past few weeks had been- weird. He kept going in a certain direction. Something in him wanted him to get somewhere. But that feeling, that need to keep moving was...gone. Replaced with a...weird contentment. ‘’I-I dunno…’’ he looked away. ‘’I mean I- I did break in because I wanted food…’’ he licked his dry lips, feeling slightly guilty. 

Blondie nodded, smiling kindly once more. It reassured Nathan slightly. ‘’That’s fine. You don’t have a home, do you?’’

He blinked, surprised by how blunt he was. Then nodded. ‘’No- no not really…’’ he shrugged. He looked at Blondie for a long moment. Something about this house felt- weird. Not a bad weird but...thinking about it now, Stat had been burnt, with scars on either side of his mouth. The giant monster that had scared the shit out of him earlier had the same scars he and Blondie did. Was that all a coincidence? That everyone here had the same scars as him? He opened his mouth, about to ask- what exactly he was going to ask he didn’t know but- either way he was interrupted by the door behind him opening. 

‘’We okay in here?’’ Nathan actually jumped in surprise. His head whipped around, staring at the half-burnt man from before with wide eyes. He relaxed a bit and gave a small nod, leaning against the wall again. The other man walked past him and sat on the bed beside Blondie. ‘’You got a name?’’

‘’N-Nathan.’’

He nodded. ‘’I’m Grease. Sorry about earlier. It’s nothing personal.’’ 

‘’Honestly- I don’t know why we still keep Stat around when he’s such a- such a ruffian!’’ 

Grease rolled his eye. Clearly he had heard this a few times too many. Instead he focused on Nathan. ‘’So, Nathan…’’ he looked him over for a long few moments. ‘’Can I ask ya something?’’

‘’Sure.’’

Grease shifted before he spoke again. ‘’Ya got Jeffery anywhere in your name?’’

Nathan froze. His muscles tensed, his eyes filling with fear. They knew. Or at least- Grease knew. He recognised him- he must have! He gulped. ‘’Li-Listen I-’’ he pursed his lips. ‘’I-I do okay but- listen I don’t wanna hurt anyone I-!’’ a feeble whimper escaped him. ‘’...please don’t call the cops…’’ 

Blondie frowned, sad at the boy’s panic. Grease shook his head. ‘’We’re not gonna do that.’’ he looked at Nathan. He was...reassuring, in an odd way. Fatherly. ‘’Promise.’’ Nathan gave a small nod, relaxing a bit. ‘’My name’s Jeff Bartosz,’’ he pointed at Blondie. ‘’Jeffery Devereaux.’’ 

Nathan paused. ‘’I-I’m...Jeff Woods. Nathan’s my middle name.’’ he frowned. ‘’Can I- uh- ask something…?’’

‘’Shoot.’’

‘’...where am I?’’ something was up. The same name? Similar scars and burns? ‘’Is this like...a cult or…?’’

Grease shook his head, smiling a bit. ‘’Not a cult, no,’’ he looked at Nathan for a long bit. ‘’...how about I explain that later, huh? You look like you could use some food first.’’

‘’And perhaps tea,’’ Blondie suggested. ‘’If you like it of course.’’

Nathan cracked a small smile and nodded. ‘’That- that’d be really good-’’ he slowly slipped his hands into his pockets. ‘’...thanks.’’

‘’Of course dear,’’ Blondie stood up and crossed the room. He paused at the door, looking at him. ‘’Do you like chai?’’

‘’Never had it.’’

Blondie chuckled. ‘’Well then I’ll introduce you, hm?’’ 

The sound of rain was typically considered a comfort to people. A gentle noise that beat on the pavement in a steady, calming rhythm. The rain drenched the streets and houses, making the world dark, yet the water glistened in the little light that came from headlights and windows. The golden glow from the windows he passed by seemed to cover him in a false warmth. The light should have illuminated a boy who was calm, content with life even as he walked through the rain, but it instead showed a scarred and burnt face with sunken eyes that looked around suspiciously. His mouth was pulled down into a frown, despite the smile carved into his cheeks.

The rain didn’t comfort him. It made his headache feel worse. He grit his teeth for a few moments before loosening his jaw again. He slid his hands into the pocket of his stained, white hoodie and looked up around him as he walked through the rain. He shivered, feeling soaked to the bone. His stomach growled and he looked up, his eyes landing on another glowing window front. 

Subway. Eat fresh. Jeff ran his tongue over his lips and walked quickly over to the door to the small restaurant. He pulled his bandana up over his mouth, then stepped inside, pausing for a moment. He registered the ding over the door as he entered. It was warm in here, and bright. Quiet. Dark hair hung over his face, obscuring most of his vision. He stood there, soaking in the warmth until a noise came from the other end of the restaurant.

‘’Hey, you okay there?’’

A male voice. He looked up, peering at the singular employee through wet hair. He walked away from the door, toward the counter. He could smell food in the air and it made his stomach growl. Peppers and onions and cheese, mixed with the smell of bread. He looked up at the employee. ‘’Evening.’’ he grunted. 

The employee, who seemed to be named Matt going by his name tag, smiled in greeting. ‘’Good evening,’’ he replied. ‘’Can I get you anything?’’

‘’Uhh...yeah…’’ he paused for a moment, scrunching up his nose. The pounding in his head had started getting worse the moment he stepped inside, but he tried to ignore it. ‘’Can I get…’’ he pursed his lips for a moment, his vision blurring for a second. ‘’A chicken sub with cheddar, jalapenos and some barbecue sauce…?’’ he shook his head. God, his throat felt dry, and his voice sounded like shit. ‘’And some water.’’ 

The employee nodded. ‘’You want that toasted?’’

‘’Yeah, yeah.’’ he looked around the place. It was empty, save for him. No other customers. He looked up at the employee. ‘’You working alone tonight?’’

‘’Nah, nah,’’ Matt replied calmly. He adjusted the glasses on his face. Square lenses. They reminded Jeff of his brother. ‘’My coworker’s out back. Taking a smoke break.’’ he gave Jeff a small smile before finishing the sub. He put it in the oven, then grabbed a water bottle from the fridge. He put it on the counter and typed a few things into the cash register. ‘’That’ll be $4.50.’’ 

Jeff pulled his hand out of his jacket and put a five dollar bill on the counter. He took the water eagerly, squeezing it quietly in his shaking hand. Shaking...he hated when his hands shook. It was a bad sign. He grit his teeth until he was given his change and receipt. He turned and walked over to one of the small tables, sitting with his back to the employee. He opened the water bottle eagerly and drank down about half of it. It was cold, and he could feel it sliding down his throat and into an empty stomach that growled hungrily. He winced. 

‘’Just get the food and leave.’’ he told himself. ‘’Eat and go.’’

‘’Your order’s done.’’ Matt called behind him. Jeff pulled up his bandana again and walked over to the counter, taking the sandwich. The employee tilted his head, seemingly noticing that Jeff was shaking. ‘’You okay, sir? You look a little...pale.’’

Jeff shook his head. ‘’I’m fine. Just a late night weirdo.’’ he replied. The employee laughed a bit and nodded.

‘’If you say so.’’ he shook his head in amusement. Jeff smiled under his mask and turned, sitting with his back to the counter. He unwrapped his sandwich and took a bite. Then another. The food made his stomach growl painfully, but it also made him feel better. Even though the trembling was getting worse. 

Ringing. His ears were ringing again, making him grit his teeth and suppress a whine. The ringing was almost the worst part. The high pitched noise made him flinch. He was always sensitive to noise, and this didn’t help. The noise suddenly spiked like a screeching in his ear and he smacked a palm flat onto the table. He froze, his body twitching, leg bouncing in anxiety.

‘’You okay?’’

He didn’t reply, just squeezed his eyes shut and grinded his molars together. He heard footsteps approaching him from behind. ‘’Run, run, run, run away.’’ he wanted to say but his mouth wouldn’t open. Like it was stitched shut. He felt Matt’s hand on his shoulder and he flinched, nearly screaming at the touch. 

‘’Hey, you alright?’’ Matt leaned closer, trying to look at his face, obscured by wispy black hair. Jeff trembled. 

Whispers filled his ears. ‘’Weak’’, ‘’coward’’, ‘’disappointment’’, ‘’hopeless’’. He slapped his hands over his ears, screwing his eyes shut and whining. ‘’You’re a monster. A freak. Get the gun get the gun get the gun-’’ teeth bit down on lips hard enough to bleed. ‘’Hold him down, hold him down! Gimme the knife, Keith!’’ 

He slowly dragged his head up, the voices filling his head like a symphony that sung only his own traumas. He inhaled sharply, taking steady breaths, trying to calm himself. ‘’Are you okay?’’ Matt asked again. Mismatched eyes flicked to him, glinting in the light. He saw the employee flinch, finally seeing the burns and scars on his pale face. ‘’C-Can I help you…?’’

Jeff stared at him for a moment then slowly stood up. His hand slid down his side, feeling the outline of the knife handle hidden in the waist of his jeans. ‘’...yeah…’’ his voice was soft. ‘’Yeah you can help me…’’ he stepped toward Matt, who backed away cautiously. Jeff glanced at the table behind the employee, mentally planning his actions. He suddenly lunged forward, grabbing Matt by his shirt and shoving him against the table. He yelped, eyes wide and full of panic as he stared down at Jeff. 

‘’P-please man I-!’’

‘’Shhh…’’ he hated when they pleaded. He gulped, swallowing down his nerves. ‘’Just...let me…get it out…’’ his voice dropped, feeble and shaky. Barely a whisper. He slid the knife out of his waistband, holding it up. Matt whimpered and thrashed. He was close to a foot taller than Jeff, and much less skinny than him, yet he couldn’t get the boy off of him. He tried to scream, but the moment his mouth opened a bundle of dirty cloth was shoved into his mouth. ‘’Just be quiet. I...I hate the screams…’’ Jeff shook his head. Matt whimpered, a tear escaping his eye. Jeff took a deep breath and drew the knife back. Then he lunged again. With a muffled shriek from Matt, the blade buried deep into his gut. Jeff drew it back and stabbed again. And again. And again. He counted the stabs in his head. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Seven. He always felt obligated to stop at seven. 

The blade dripped with blood as Jeff released his victim. Too in pain and too weak to scream, the cloth fell from Matt’s mouth. Yet he still tried to escape. He stumbled, collapsing against the glass case on the counter. Jeff calmly padded over to him. He raised the knife and stabbed again. Seven more gashes. This time he dragged the blade, leaving long cuts down the man’s back. Matt whimpered and slid to the ground, sobbing feebly. Crimson pooled around him. Jeff knelt down to him and rolled him over. He took off his glasses, looking at them for a moment. He breathed on the lenses, then cleaned them off with the hem of his shirt. He placed them down on Matt’s chest, then put the blade to his throat. 

‘’I’m sorry.’’

A slice, and the subway employee was gurgling blood. Another two minutes and he was unconscious, waiting for death. Jeff knelt over him, taking calm, even breaths. The ringing was gone, the voices had disappeared. The throbbing in his head had stopped, letting him relax and think straight. The smell of blood filled his nose, and somehow it was a comfort. Comfort, comfort...it was only temporary. The calm faded away in minutes, replaced with the typical racing thoughts. ‘’Oh god I just killed someone.’’, ‘’Why did I do that?’’, ‘’There’s blood on my hands.’’, ‘’I’m a monster.’’