Holding my breath, I listened to the faint footsteps on the floor below me. He was looking for me. I knew he was. He'd been looking for me since I'd first escaped him, and he still was.

I'd honestly wondered how he'd found me. I'd moved two states over. Surely, I'd thought at the time, that'd be far enough to escape a serial killer. However, I was badly mistaken, as he was right below me, throwing things around, searching for me.

I heard him coming up the stairs, and I had the sudden urge to change where I was hiding, like when you're a child and you're playing hide and seek with your friends and you suddenly want to change hiding spots as they get closer to you. That's what I was feeling that exact moment.

I heard my bedroom door creek open. I put my hands over my mouth in an attempt to suppress any sounds that dared to try and escape. Tears built up in my eyes, but I blinked to clear my vision.

You can't cry, I thought. At least, not yet. Just get out of this first. Then, you can break down all you want.

It was then that I noticed it'd gotten deadly quiet. Had he left? Maybe he thought he couldn't find me. After all, it's not everyday that you see someone with a secret space in their ceiling.

Suddenly, "Found you!"

I screamed, but quickly covered my mouth. I'd messed up. He'd played me right into his hands. He hadn't found me. It was his way to make me scream so that he could catch me.

I yelped as a blade shot up in the floor of my hiding spot, barely missing my leg. Scrambling back, I looked at the hatch as it opened. Up popped a head. I cringed as I saw the bloody smiled that'd been gruesomely carved into this . . . monster's face.

I backed up to a near-by wall as he climbed up, his forever opened eyes trained on me.

"No, please," I begged, backing up until my back hit the wall of my personal attic. He chuckled quietly, his pitch black hair dropping in front of his face, giving him an eerie look.

"They always beg," he growled out, his voice deep and gruff, like he'd just woken up. "That's the best part of it all. To hear them beg and plead for their lives."

He laughed, but I'd never heard anything like it before. It was more insane sounding than anything I'd ever witnessed. He was truly mental.

"Get away from me!" I screamed, causing him to cackle and walk closer. "Please! Why are you doing this? Is it because you don't want me to tell anyone? I won't tell! I promise! They wouldn't believe me anyways!"

He stopped for a moment and just stared. It was honestly creepy. I didn't like it. I couldn't tell what he was thinking, and that scared me most of all.

"What makes you think I'll care if you tell?" he finally asked, laughing again, making me shrink back. "I don't give a fuck if you tell the cops. Hell, you can tell the FBI for all I care! I'm doing this because I want to. It's so fun to see the pain and fear on your face as the life slowly drains from your eyes. It's beautiful to see the blood stain my knife, the floor, me. It's the most amazing thing to hear you screaming for help even though deep down you know no one is coming."

With every word he said, I felt myself die a little more inside. He was truly lost. Poor thing.

"Yeah, but you don't have to kill me. Please. I'll do anything."

"I don't want anything from you!" I jumped as he screamed this. "I only want one thing: To take your life. And this time, I won't fail, bitch."

I screamed as he ran at me, closing my eyes as I waited for the pain.

...

It took a few seconds, but soon, I felt it in my right jaw. His elbow collided with my face, knocking my voice out of me for a moment. A burning pain shot through my face. It was worse than anything I'd felt before.

"What's wrong, princess?" the male teased, trapping my hands and sitting on my stomach, straddling my body underneath his. "Killer got your tongue?"

I groaned in pain. He was heavy.

"Get off!" I groaned, trying to push him away, but alas, my fifteen-year-old body refused to cooperate. "Please!"

By now, I'm sure you're  wondering how I'm fifteen, yet managed to move states constantly and stay on my own. Well, my parents lived with me. But earlier that night, they'd taken their final breathes. So, now I was on my own.

"Awe, come on," the male on top of me taunted, swinging his knife above me. "Surely you can do better than that."

I finally managed to wiggle my arms loose enough to elbow the bastard in the side. Hard. He grunted, slightly lifting his weight enough for me to get up. However, it didn't seem to faze him too much, as he got right up, whipping around to find me.

Might I add that elbowing him hurt like hell. Like, it felt like he was wearing a whole bulletproof vest under that bloodstained hoodie. I mean, even his hands felt rough, like he was wearing those cat-brushing gloves.

I hear quit footsteps behind me, and I realize that if I don't pick up my pace, I'm going to die.

Quickly halting, I looked over to the couch, as something moving caught my eyes. Taki, Taco -- my two miniature dachshunds -- and Teddy -- my toy poodle -- were all huddled up on the couch, shaking. They were scared.

I couldn't leave them. I especially couldn't leave Taki, as she was pregnant.

"Come on," I called, but they didn't move.

I turned -- just to dodge a knife swinging for my head. I screamed, spinning around. The guy growled, swinging again, and I dodged. My God, he was fast.

I heard sirens in the distance, and internally smirked. Earlier, when he was looking for me, I'd dialed 911, and let it sit, ignoring the operator. Lucky me, it had been just before I'd screamed, letting him know where I was.

The guy stopped and listened as well, looking around to identify the sound. Suddenly, he realized it.

"You bitch!" he snarled. "I'll kill you!"

If he caught me before the police got here, I was as good as dead. Literally.

He lunged at me, grabbing me by the hair, slinging me into the couch. Right before I hit taco, I bent my body in a painful way as to not hurt him.

Suddenly, there's pounding on the door.

"Fuck," the guy swore, bolting for the back door.

Needless to say, that night was the night I'd once again survived an attack from the infamous Jeff the Killer.