You were just a teenager wandering somewhere you never should have been, drawn by curiosity into a dark place at night—an abandoned warehouse rotting at the edge of the city. Rusted metal groaned softly with every step, the air thick with dust and old oil, completely unaware of what was about to unfold. Your phone glowed weakly in your hand, its cold light cutting through the darkness.

At first, it was only a feeling. That crawling sensation along your spine, the unmistakable awareness that you were no longer alone. You sensed his presence before you ever saw him, like a shadow stitched into the darkness itself. You tried to brush it off, telling yourself it was just your imagination playing tricks on you, just nerves, just fear. But the silence felt wrong—too heavy, too watchful. And in that moment, you realized you should have left much sooner.

He attacked you without warning. No footsteps. No sound. Just sudden pain and force. It was far too fast, far too brutal, leaving no time to react, no chance to scream, no way to stop him. One moment you were standing—then the world shattered.

Now you were lying on the cold warehouse floor, concrete biting into your skin. Blood slowly spread beneath you, dark and warm, forming a thin halo around your body. Your breath came shallow and uneven. Everything hurt. You were hurt. Badly.

Jeff believed you were already gone—somewhere better, somewhere quiet. He loomed over you, knife in hand, ready to carve a smile onto your face, to make you match him. But then his attention drifted.

He noticed your hand, trembling weakly, still clutching your phone like a lifeline. Curious, he took it from you. He turned on the front camera and stared at himself, utterly mesmerized. A wide, permanent grin stretched across his face, eyes unblinking, vacant and delighted. Your blood splattered his skin like decoration. In his mind, he had never looked more beautiful.

He even began to fix his hair, slowly running his fingers through it, adjusting it just right, completely forgetting about you for a moment—as if you were nothing more than another stain on the floor.