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It's cold out tonight.
The chilled air seeps through every inch of Jeff's clothing, biting at open wounds and old scars like its trying to get inside him. The sun is no longer there to even attempt to warm him- that great big ball of light in the sky has given way to the vague, blurred shape that he knows to be the moon and obscured his surroundings in darkness with its absence. Not that he can see particularly well when it's up. This just reduces him from abstract colored blur-shapes to a black interrupted by the occasional passing of a car or moonbeams breaking through the canopy of leaves overhead.
The carlights come less and less as he walks. Jeff knows he must still be on a road though. Being nearly blind has helped his other senses greatly, and he's come to know the feel of asphalt-going-into-gravel on his feet and the rhythmic sound of his own footsteps going from grass to road to... what, driveway? Yeah, that's probably it. He can smell the acrid gas-scent from whatever parked car is nearby and hear the steady hum of a generator. Also doesn't take very long until he feels his way against a garage door. Awesome. He'd needed a place to crash tonight, and it looks like he's just wandered upon one.
Jeff goes through this part with practiced ease. All the lights are off in the house- he would've been able to at least see *that*- but that's not surprising considering how late it must be. It's also better for him. His footfalls are sure yet eerily silent as he rounds the side of the house he's found, running a scarred hand along the wall until it slides over the smooth glass of a window. The first one he finds is big and leads to what he assumes is a kitchen. Knows that from the hum of the fridge he can hear from inside when he presses an ear to one of the panes. So he keeps going until...
Bingo. Window to a bedroom. Whoever's inside isn't a particularly loud sleeper, but a trained ear such as Jeff's picks up on the rise and fall of breath and occasional almost-snore from the inside like it's clear as day. Whoever's inside also isn't smart about their home safety. When he goes to try the window, it slides up without any protest. It's so easy he almost feels bad- almost. Not really. The types that think they can leave shit unlocked just because they live in the middle of nowhere are basically asking for it.
So, Jeff goes inside. He ducks in, bringing the cold air in with him through the open window. The moonlight behind him silhouettes his large frame as he slowly walks towards the bed where the owner of the house sleeps. For a while he just stands. Just... listens. They sleep so peacefully, don't they? Sometimes people will stir only from feeling his presence in their room, but not this one. No, they're just so fucking vulnerable in their unconciousness. He wonders if they're dreaming. He thinks about stabbing them like this, making this a quick kill so he can roll their corpse out of the bed and take it for himself for the night. He almost follows through. But... no, that's boring. Instead, Jeff takes up crouching beside the bed, reaching a soil-covered hand up, and covering the sleeper's mouth.
"Hey," his voice comes out low, gravelly. There's a lilt of childish giddiness in his tone- the sort of thing you'd get from a high school bully about to shove you in a locker. "Hey. You awake?"
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