It’s one of those nights where you just can’t seem to enter that final stage when
deep sleep embraces you.
You turn over and over, drifting in and out of consciousness, having strange, nightmarish
thoughts during your microsleeps.
The day was oppressively hot and humid, so you left the window cracked to get a breeze
and now the curtains seem to expand and contract, like lungs filling with the air.
It’s kind of relaxing to watch... until you see something.
Were those eyes peeping through the curtains?
Your heart begins to race.
Is this the creep you’d heard rumors about, the deranged serial killer known as Jeff the
Killer that is still on the loose?
No, you must have been dreaming.
You rub your eyes and take another look.
Squinting through the dark you see a ghoulish, monstrous face looking straight at you as
he slowly pulls himself through your opened window.
In the morning your bed will be empty…In the weeks to come you’ll be just another
statistic, another missing kid, one of thousands of young folks that go missing in the USA
each year.
In time your family will give up hope of ever seeing you again.
You have become one of the 115 children that year whose disappearance has been officially
recorded as a “stranger abduction”.
It’s true that every year scores of young people just vanish into thin air.
Sometimes they go out and don’t come home…sometimes they are at the shopping mall with their parents
and just disappear, never to be seen again…sometimes they are snatched from their beds during the
night.
There are real-life boogeymen out there, maniacs on the loose, skulking around quiet neighborhoods.
So who is Jeff the Killer?
Is he responsible for those unexplained abductions?
Is he even real?
Moving to a new place in your teens isn’t much fun at all.
You make friends and then you have to abandon them, but for Jeff and his brother Liu, the
move wasn’t so difficult to accept.
The new house was fancy to say the least and the neighborhood didn’t look too bad, either.
No sooner than Jeff, Liu, and their parents got the new house in order, the nosey neighbors
came around to say hello and check out who’d they be loving or hating in the next year
or so.
To break the ice, one of the neighbors invited the family to a birthday party.
The neighbor, Barbara, explained that her son, Billy, was about to have a birthday party.
Jeff’s mom, Margaret, said her husband Peter, as well as the kids, would love to go.
At this point Jeff and Liu were in the background listening, both of them feeling kind of peeved
that their parents had agreed on their behalf to go to the party of some kid they didn’t
even know.
Young Jeff had always had a problem with authority, and he was quick to tell his mom that she
shouldn’t do stuff like that.
He stormed off in a huff, retreating to his bedroom where he threw himself down on his
bed and sulked.
In that moment of teenage angst he felt something really strange inside of him, like his very
own pear of anguish…an acute pain in his stomach.
He felt hypnotized by his own anger.
“How dare she do that,” he thought.
He then came out of this enraged trance, not really knowing what had come over him.
The same thing happened again the next morning as he was hastily eating a bowl of MultiGrain
Peanut Butter Cheerios.
It was something in his stomach, this time a grinding pain, and there was that feeling
of rage again.
He didn’t know if he liked it or not.
Maybe it was just moving stress, anxiety about going to a new school, meeting new kids…Some
of them were bound to be jerks, that was for sure.
He realised he was gripping his spoon so hard his knuckles were white.
He was trembling with anger.
But Jeff’s anxieties were justified that morning at the school bus stop.
Some wise ass kid did an ollie on his skateboard right over Jeff and Liu’s legs.
Had he messed that up he could have snapped one of their legs like a twig.
Jeff didn’t know it then, but this was the beginning of the end.
The skateboarder was soon joined by two other kids, and in true Steven King fashion, there
was one cool kid, the skateboarder whose name was Randy, a nerdy-looking dude named Keith
and an obese kid whose name was Troy.
These kids would become Jeff's mortal enemies, his bete noires.
In literal French that means “black beasts”.
“Well, look what’s been dragged into the neighborhood," said Randy.
“A couple of new freaks to kick around for a while.”
The fat kid guffawed, but the skinny nerdy-looking kid just stood there motionless.
Randy explained to Jeff and Liu that as new kids on the block there was a tax to pay,
call it bus fare, and intimidatingly he got right up in Liu’s face.
Liu stood his ground, pushing Randy back, but in a moment of outlandish anger, the fat
kid whipped out a knife.
Randy turned to his two bootlicker friends and said, “Well, it looks like these two
kids are gonna have to learn the hard way.”
The fat kid wielded the knife right in front of Liu’s face, and proceeded to rifle through
Liu’s pockets.
He then passed a wallet to Randy.
All the time Liu was thinking how inconceivable it was for three kids in a wealthy and quiet
suburban American neighborhood to mug him and his brother on their way to school.
Jeff just sat there, boiling, raging, on the verge of exploding.
That devilish feeling again filled his guts…he felt possessed with anger, and he finally
stood up and growled at Randy, “You give that wallet back to ma bro or I’ll knock
the teeth right out of your friggin head.”
Jeff was seething, and before Randy could respond physically or come up with a smart
retort, he punched Randy square in the nose, shattering it like porcelain.
Liu hadn’t seen Jeff do that before, but he was even more surprised when his younger
brother grabbed Randy’s finger and snapped it.
Jeff took Randy’s knife, but soon skinny-Keith and portly-Troy were on his back.
Lightweight Keith took a stabbing for the team and went down like a sack of bricks.
Jeff pushed Troy off him and hit him so hard in the stomach that Troy threw up as he crawled
on the floor.
The scene was a massacre.
Liu had never seen anything like that before from his brother.
“Man, bro, what the hell’s got into you?”
The two ran to school rather than get the bus.
Jeff looked behind and he could see people out in the street attending to the wounded
kids.
Did he feel remorse that day as he sat in class listening to a teacher talk about verb
conjugation?
No, he felt the opposite.
He felt alive.
He felt the violence in his very marrow.
He loved violence.
This was a new discovery for him.
Part II: Jeff The Maniac Jeff got home that evening and his mom asked
him how school was, to which Jeff replied, “Awesome”, as the sweet memory of the
beating and the smell of someone else’s blood filled his senses.
But as things tend to go, Jeff wasn’t exactly off the hook for executing what the justice
system calls a serious assault…not to mention using a deadly weapon on a child.
The cops turned up at Jeff’s house and explained that their son’s outstanding wrath had caused
some serious injuries to three kids that lived in the neighborhood.
Jeff, as stubborn as ever, explained to the cops and his distraught parents that he’d
been the victim of violence and he had only retaliated in a comparable fashion.
“Comparable!,” said one of the cops, “I’ve got two kids in the hospital with stab wounds
and another kid that looks like he’s been kicked in the stomach by a race horse.”
Jeff had to try really hard not to smile…
He bit his lip.
What could he do, though, the game was up.
There were witnesses…there was forensic evidence.
“Ok,” said Jeff, “It was me…but I was only sticking up for my bro.
Those guys pulled out the knife first, I just finished it.”
Jeff was already thinking about spending a year in what he’d heard was nicknamed “Gladiator
School” when his brother Liu came rushing down the stairs.
With the knife in his hands, Liu shouted, “It was me.
Don’t arrest my brother.”
Liu put down the knife and the cops cuffed him, all the while Jeff was telling them that
Liu was lying, that it was he who was at fault for the bus stop carnage.
As his brother was taken away in the cop car, Jeff sat in the driveway weeping.
What had he done…
For days, Jeff stayed in his bed with the curtains closed.
He couldn’t go to school, he couldn’t even sleep.
He just lay in bed depressed, feeling as if darkness had chosen him, abused him, manipulated
him.
After a few days, something unbelievable happened.
His mom waltzed into his bedroom as if nothing had happened... as if she hadn’t just lost
a son to a brutal penal system, possibly for many years.
She just whipped back the curtains and jovially exclaimed to Jeff, “Guess what day it is?”
“What the …” thought Jeff, “Has this woman lost her mind.”
“It’s party day,” said his mom, “You remember... before all that nonsense with
the knives, we were invited to Billy’s birthday bash.”
Jeff was rather displeased with his mom’s patent lack of empathy.
“C’mon Jeff,” she said, “So, your brother’s gone for a while…don’t let
that spoil an otherwise beautiful sunny day.
You'll always be my beautiful son, let's go have some fun."
For some reason, Jeff didn't like being called beautiful.
He noticed she’d really gone overboard with her clothes.
She was dressed to impress.
This bugged him even more.
When the family arrived at Barbara’s house, Jeff noticed that all the adults were wearing
fancy clothes, all of them, it seemed, were trying to impress each other.
Some of them were noticeably drunk already, talking loudly about their many accomplishments
and the wonderful, talented children they’d brought into this world.
“Go in the yard and play with the other kids,” Jeff’s mom said.
This would prove to be foolhardy, given Jeff’s track-record so far with kids in the neighborhood.
And then it happened, just as Jeff was starting to get along with the children.
Randy, Keith and Troy appeared, still looking a bit beaten up, but no doubt ready for another
round with the new kid.
Randy said, “You didn’t think this was done didya…it aint done by a long way.”
Again, Jeff was reminded of countless teenage movies he’d seen.
What ensued was a one-on-one with Randy and Jeff.
Jeff headbutted Randy, breaking his recently fixed nose yet another time.
Blood splattered on the faces of the younger kids, sending them running around the garden
in hysterics.
A small kid froze, and as a teddy bear dropped from his hands you could see a wet patch form
and expand on the front of his Spongebob shorts.
Jeff got the better of Randy, but then the two goons pulled out guns.
This was unheard of in that neighborhood.
Even some of the parents were now running into the distance shouting, “Someone call
911”.
Jeff couldn’t do anything with guns pointed at him, and before he knew it Randy stabbed
him with a knife.
Troy and Keith laughed like the goofs they were, and then Randy just started beating
Jeff to a pulp.
He dragged Jeff into the kitchen, whereupon he picked up a bottle of vodka and smashed
it on Jeff’s head.
But Jeff didn’t fight back.
He took every punch, every kick.
His face was dripping blood, a shard of glass was sticking out of his head…his stomach
was punctured... but he didn’t fight back.
“C’mon,” said Randy, “Hit me…fight back.”
Jeff just took more shots to the face, but he didn’t retaliate.
To try and light that fire again in Jeff, Randy shouted, “Your bro’s some dude’s
girl right now, and that’s all because of me…FIGHT ME!”
PART III: Jeff Snaps And that was it, that was the final straw.
Jeff felt that rage build up inside of him again.
He lurched at Randy like a rabid lion.
He pushed him down and smothered him with his incredible strength.
Randy was helpless.
Jeff drew back his fist and punched Randy right in the heart.
A shocked look appeared on Randy’s face, like he’d just seen the devil himself.
He took one last breath, blood bubbled from his mouth, and he died there and then.
The parents still there couldn’t believe what they had witnessed.
They were children…children that had become feral, animalistic, beastial...
Keith and Troy now turned their guns on Jeff.
They fired and missed.
Jeff ran up the stairs past parents now in a state of shock, their faces whiter than
the new ceramic tiles on the kitchen floor.
Now out of bullets, Troy and Keith pulled knives out on Jeff, but soon Jeff had his
own weapon…a towel rack.
He cracked Troy’s balloon sized head with the rack, knocking him clean out.
Skinny Keith realized he was probably now out of his depth, but it was too late.
There was nowhere to run.
They were both in the bathroom fighting, and suddenly they hit a shelf and a bottle of
bleach fell on them.
Inexplicably, the bleach was opened, and both boys were covered in the stuff.
Keith screamed as the bleach burned his face, and that’s when Jeff caved Keith’s wiry
face in with his handy towel rack.
As Keith lay on the floor, not far from death, he smiled.
“Funny eh,” said Jeff, somewhat nonplussed even though he was no stranger to strangeness.
“Look at you,” mumbled Keith through bloodied broken teeth.
“You’ve been doused in bleach and vodka.”
Keith’s last effort to beat that new kid was to throw a cigarette lighter at Jeff.
Jeff burst into flames, and screaming he ran downstairs and through the house.
He was a ball of flames, a human inferno.
Parents stood back in horror.
Jeff collapsed, and that’s the last thing he remembered about that day.
PART IV: Jeff the Killer The next thing Jeff knew he was lying in a
hospital bed and he couldn’t move.
Almost his entire body was covered with bandages.
Suddenly he heard, “He’s awake.”
It was that familiar voice of his overbearing mother, but this time he was pleased she was
by his side.
“Jeff,” she said, “Liu is out…witnesses told the police that Randy had first produced
the knife…Your brother is free.
We are going home, a family again.”
Jeff felt a twinge of relief, but it was hard to be happy when his body was covered in third,
second and first degree burns.
He tried to smile, and then realized that he had no lips to smile with.
His mother saw her son’s pain.
“Good news, though, eh, Jeff…every cloud has a silver…”
She didn’t finish her sentence, this time being self-aware enough not to be chirpy in
a horrible situation.
Sometime later, both Jeff’s parents were there when his final bandage had to be pulled
off.
“This is going to hurt a bit,” the doctor told Jeff.
As those final bandages unfurled from Jeff’s face, he was taken aback by the sheer horror
painted on his parent’s faces.
They were trying to suppress their disgust, but something hardwired into their brains
wouldn’t allow them to hide their terror.
Jeff asked for a mirror.
The doctor told him, “Just start with one part of your face, and then move to another
part.
This might come as some shock to you, but you’ll soon get used to it.”
Jeff didn’t take that advice, and instead just grabbed the mirror.
For seconds, minutes, he stared into that mirror, moving his head from side to side,
studying every angle.
His parents were waiting for him to cry, to scream, to collapse in shock, but as Jeff
kept on looking at his new face, a white, leathery face, a face without eyelids, without
anything resembling normal lips, it looked as though he was happy with the results of
his personal tragedy.
“It’s perfect,” he said.
“Just perfect.”
He wasn’t crying, his mother noticed, he was trying to laugh.
When Jeff was left alone, the doctor told his parents that their son was in shock and
it wasn’t unusual for someone to act that way.
The reality, he said, hadn’t set it in.
“Just take him home,” said the doctor, “and give him a lot of support.”
“Of course we will,” said Jeff’s mother, feeling ever so slightly guilty that she was
glad about the fact that Jeff would be easier to control now that he was damaged goods.
“Oh,’ said the doctor as he was walking away, “Don’t let him be alone for long.”
Later that night while the family was sleeping, Jeff’s mom was awoken by a strange sound
coming from the bathroom.
When she entered that bathroom she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.
Jeff was carving a smile into his face with a knife.
He’d also cut off what remained of his eyelids.
“How do I look ma?”
Jeff said earnestly.
She couldn’t even speak…she couldn’t move...the woman was petrified.
“What’s up ma,” said Jeff, “Don’t you think I’m beautiful anymore.”
“Yes,” she said, while slowly back peddling out of the bathroom, “You are my beautiful
son.
You’ll always be my beautiful little honey pot.”
She then ran for it, got Jeff’s dad, and the two of them tried to wrestle the knife
from Jeff’s hands.
“What!” screamed Jeff, “You lied to me!
You don’t think I’m beautiful!”
He was too powerful for them…the rage had returned, and it wasn’t difficult to stick
that knife into both of them.
Jeff stood over them, their lungs drowning in their own blood.
It was a beautiful sight.
He was Jeff the Killer.
That’s what he’d always been…a killer.
He had one last stop before he left the house and fulfilled his own prophecy.
Jeff walked into Liu’s room.
Standing at the side of Liu’s bed he put his scarred leathery hand over his brother’s
mouth.
Liu suddenly looked at Jeff with wide open eyes, as his dear brother sunk a knife deep
into his stomach.
“Shhhhhhh,” said Jeff.
“Just go to sleep.”
Part V: Jeff The Thriller We weren’t kidding at the start when we
said that in the U.S. scores of young people are abducted by strangers, but did Jeff the
Killer ever actually exist?
We think most of you already know that this is fiction, but what really gives it away?
If you go back to the start of the original Jeff the Killer story there is a part that
says, “Excerpt from a local newspaper.”
“OMINOUS UNKNOWN KILLER IS STILL AT LARGE.
After weeks of unexplained murders, the ominous unknown killer is still on the rise.
After little evidence has been found, a young boy states that he survived one of the killer’s
attacks and bravely tells his story.”
Ok, so first of all, the headline of that story, “Ominous Unknown Killer Is Still
At Large” would never be a headline in any newspaper, anywhere.
Trust us, we have former journalists and editors on our team of writers.
The writer of Jeff the Killer seems to have found that adjective “ominous” and then
gone and used it wherever he can.
Secondly, the first paragraph is badly written.
Listen to this: “There, in the little ray of light, illuminating
from between my curtains, were a pair of two eyes.
These weren’t regular eyes; they were dark, ominous eyes.”
Ominous, again, but the grammar also isn’t correct in the first sentence.
As for a “pair of two eyes”, that’s called a tautology, and no news editor on
this Earth would allow that to go to print.
So, we know at the very beginning that this tale is not true.
If the point was to make it sound believable, the Jeff the Killer writer messed up right
at the start.
As for a young boy attacking other young boys and going on a murder spree, well, there just
haven’t been any murder sprees of this kind since the story was first published in 2011.
What about Jeff’s amazing heart-stopping strength?
Well, let’s just take a giant leap and say Jeff was possessed and had superhuman strength
for a 13-year old kid.
Ok, so there is something called “Commotio cordis”, which can happen to a person when
they are struck in the heart region of their chest at just the right time...and yes, it
can kill.
You can actually find quite a few stories of when this has happened to young people,
although baseballs were the killer, not punches.
What about Jeff going up in flames after having a vodka bottle smashed over him and being
doused with bleach.
Firstly, not much vodka would have gotten on Jeff.
Secondly, you couldn't set a person on fire if you splashed vodka on them.
It’s not flammable enough.
Remember that Keith somehow threw the lighter.
We are guessing it was a Zippo lighter with a wick, but even then...vodka...no way.
As for the bleach which made Keith and Jeff scream, well, bleach can irritate the skin
if it’s not washed off, but it wouldn’t make a person scream unless, possibly, it
was poured into their eyes.
And another thing, bleach isn’t flammable.
It’s just not believable at all.
Jeff would now be 22 years old and still on the run after killing all those kids he didn’t
kill.
He wouldn’t be hard to spot, given that he has horrific scars from burns and a smile
cut into his face.
Now watch this video, “The Russian Sleep Experiment - Explained.”