Killer Can't Kill Me (JTK story) pt 8

Chapter Eight

The hooded one walked down the road, unblinking. Its body moved too fluidly for a human. The hooded one walked for hours, driven by instinct. It was tracking. Each dead body it came across had stabs, slashes, and the bloody smile cut into the corpse's face. Pity. The bodies seemed endless, twenty-three bodies were scattered throughout the city, and the hooded one was infuriated. Twenty-three broken, ruined families. The hooded one saw a glimpse of the culprit, but Jeff was too quick, and escaped its sight.

Jeff POV

You disgust her.

Being covered in at least a gallon of sticky blood, It was difficult to sneak around. I needed fresh clothes. A small clothing store was down the street. I burst into a run, pushing past a few people to get to the store. As soon as I stepped in the door, a female cashier screamed and stared at me with horror. Ignoring her shrill screams, I snatched a pair of pants, but then a man in the store tried to grab me, and I ran from the building. The stench of blood was exhilarating, but suffocating.

What the Hell am I doing? Juliet's window was unlocked, I opened it and crawled into her room. The sight inside the bed was unnerving. She lay sleeping in her bed, cocooned by blankets, with smears of make-up and tears on her face. She clutched something white in her arms, MY hoodie. A dripping sound made me jump, and I noticed the blood that coated my body dripping in the floor. My body was sticky with my victim's blood, and my clothes were heavier. The fresh, painful memory of Juliet's disgust reminded me that a shower would be best. I entered her bathroom, shutting the door, and removed my bloody garments. After a quick shower, where I scrubbed away years of blood and grime, I wrapped a towel around my waist. My bloody clothes lay in a puddle of blood on the floor. The pants I had stolen lay beside my bloody clothes. I yanked them on, they were brown cargo pants, kinda baggy. Brushing Juliet's hair from her face, I sighed, then sneakily snatched the hoodie from her arms.

She tossed in her sleep, and mumbled. I caught the words, "poor Jeff" and felt a strange, warmth in my chest. Was this......

No.

But I knew it was useless to think of any other reason why I followed the girl, was unable to harm her, and found her attractive. I. Was. In. Love. My mind spun, it all made sense, in a strange way. Juliet would never love me. My hand reached for my knife that was not there, and that's how I decided how to conclude my killing spree tonight. First, I tossed my bloody clothes in a garbage bag, cleaned away the blood puddles, then left. In a random alley, I checked my bloody pockets, retrieved a lighter, a knife, and a box with a final cigarette. The trash bag burned quickly, and I enjoyed a cigarette before deciding how to proceed with my plan.

The city's police department loomed before me, a taunting challenge. I walked up the concrete stairs, hood over my head. As soon as I stepped foot through the metal detectors, an alarm blared. Several officers walked over to me, hands resting on their guns. With inhuman speed, I raced past them. I saw a long hallway, and bolted down it. People began yelling behind me, I heard gunfire. The hallway was empty, two double doors to my left has a sign that read, Evidence Lockers. Kicking down the door, I run in the room as bullets whizz by my head. An officer inside the room stared at me with large eyes. Holding the knife out, I ran toward the cop.

He dodged my first lunge, but I stabbed him in the heart the second time. I jammed a metal broom in the double door's handles. Banging followed shortly. Skimming through the metal shelves full of boxes, I realized they were alphabetized. The banging grew louder, followed by a crash. I ran down the aisles of boxes, looking for the J's. Pain exploded in my arm, I had been shot. A whole aisle was full of boxes and my name. Boxes stuffed with plastic bags and labels. Each box had dates. A cop tackled me to the ground suddenly. Growling, I slashed his throat and shoved him off me. A box with the date from two weeks ago was before me. I saw my knife, the knife I had carried for eleven years. Snatching the plastic bag out from the box and yanking it open, I ran to the charging cops.

"You asshole!" a cop yelled at me as he tried to use a taser on me. I laughed when I stabbed him. The other officers began yelling and aiming their guns at me.

Several shots were fired at me, another bullet hit my leg. Bellowing in fury, I stabbed a cop in the stomach. I cut and slashed my way through the horrified police, and shoved past civilians. Outside in the streets, twenty police cruisers crowded the road, cops had their guns drawn. I backed into the building, and ran up a random flight of stairs. Two more cops attempted to shoot me. I was on pain from the two shots I had received, so I had some trouble stabbing the cops. After punching through a glass window and staring at the back alley, I jumped. The concrete came rushing to me, and my shot leg hit the ground oddly and hurt horribly. Muttering a string of swear words, I ran into the black back streets.

So much for showering.......

I needed to get somewhere safe, and the park was too far away. Sally's apartment was closer. The dark alleyways reeked of garbage and filth. Making my way through the streets, the old, red, brick building came into view. Climbing the creaky stairs was unpleasant, and blood leaked from my left arm and right leg. Some much for the shower. I banged on Sally's door, listening to the clicks of the locks. Sally's small frame was before me, she wore fuzzy pink bathrobe instead of her bloody nightgown. Her brown curly hair was wrapped in curlers, and Sally held a bottle of nail polish in her hands. She smirked at me, amused my apparent predicament.

"Having a pleasant evening, are we?" She asked with a giggle. I grunted in response, clutching my knife. Sally grabbed my arm with her tiny hands, and pulled me into her studio. Smile Dog lay by the couch, curled up and sleeping, his deranged smile on his face. Sally sat me in a chair at a table, and yelled for someone. "Jack! I need your help!" Her smirk grew big. Jack appeared from her kitchen, a bowl of bloody organs in his hands. He wore a black hoodie, black pants, and black boots. His blue mask with black stuff dripping from the black sockets was on his face as usual.

"Well well, it's lover boy. After Sally told me about her, I had to see this for myself" Jack said smugly. "I bet she would taste amazing" he added, to my horror. Jack read my face, then laughed, laughed. Sally rolled her eyes, and sat down her nail polish. I hate them, especially Jack when he shows emotion.

"Amazingly, you have emotions, now bottle them up and get the first aid!" Sally said. Jack left the room, still chuckling. I grunted in pain, my adrenalin was wearing out, even for me. Sally unzipped my hoodie, and stared at my arm. Blood was gushing from the bullet hole, and the skin around it was swelling. She then rolled up my pants leg, my leg was worse. The bullet had gone all the way through the leg and out the other side, and my leg was bleeding. My bones was probably broken from the bullet. I sighed, this was going to be painful.

Jack returned, holding a white first aid box. Sally moved out of the way, and Jack took her place on the floor. He silently opened the box, pulled out a bottle of peroxide, a pair of tweezers, black thread, a needle, and a roll of gauze. Twisting the cap on the peroxide bottle, Jack opened it and dumped the clear liquid in my leg. My fingers twitched as I ignored the stinging pain. My leg bubbled for several minutes, then Sally handed Jack a rag, he wiped away the bubbles and blood, then repeated the process. After three times, the bubbling was significantly less than the first time Jack poured the bottle, and he wiped away the bubbles. I ground my teeth together as my adrenalin fully dissipated. Sally watched me with amusement. Jack threaded the needle and stitched up the town flesh as best as he could. He told me my leg wasn't broken, probably fractured. After he stitched up the torn flesh on both sides if my leg, he moved on to my arm.

It was awful. He had to use the tweezers to fish the bullet from my arm, and every time the metal touched my exposed flesh, I hollered. This awoke Smile Dog, who came and licked my hoodie. Jack fished out the bullet, then handed it to Sally. As soon as the bullet was out, he doused my arm in peroxide and stitched up the torn flesh. When the stitches still leaked a little blood, jack wrapped my arm and leg wounds in gauze, then packed away the first aid kit.

"Thanks" I snapped at him. Sally giggled.

"Your welcome, how about giving me your girlfriend's appendix in return?" he said with a chuckle. I punched him in the shoulder with my good arm, then laid down on Sally's couch. Sleep easily overtook me.

When I woke up, Smile Dog was staring at me, smiling, and holding my hoodie on his mouth. I tried to take it from him, but he growled. So for five minutes, we played tug of war for the hoodie. I won. Pulling the hoodie on, I noticed Sally hadn't fixed the window I smashed. I climbed out the window, and jumped to the ground. As soon as Juliet's house was in view, I peered through the living room window. Juliet sat on the couch, sobbing. Boxes surrounded her and the bare furniture. A small TV sat on a stack of boxes, the news was on. My murder spree was all over the news. I opened the window and crawled in the room. Juliet turned to me, red faced, tears pouring down her face, and her eyes hard and furious.

Fuck


****************
Its been too long, you can yell at me.

Please Comment below what your thoughts on this chapter are! Sorry if the police department massacre is a little sketchy. Thanks for reading!