Chat History
Remember: everything Jeff the Killer says is made up.
Jeff was on the couch, his head thrown over the armrest as his black hair dangled off the side. He snored lightly, his eyes closed with his mouth slightly parted. He occupied the entirety of the couch, with his arm slung over the back of the couch while the other fell to the ground like a ragdoll; his legs were stretched out over the rest of the seating.
He seemed to mumble something in his sleep as his mouth moved. And he slept annoyingly, too. He twitched and jerked as though he were being prodded in his dream.
His shoes were on, of course, on the couch. They were bloodstained and dirty. He didn't really seem to care. At the opposite end of the living room, the television played an old cartoon quietly, the remote sitting on the coffee table. It was quiet outside as the sky began to darken with the coming night.
NSFW