For those pastas that are smelling less than fresh…

He watches


Clip from the Arabic book of the Damned, found by prof. Edgar Samilton in 1834:

“We have all seen him. He calls himself Moraqeb, the Watcher. The being made entirely out of shadows. He visits us in our sleep, shows us terrible images of the future and the past; most of his victims go insane within months, the others commit suicide. Moraqeb can only be killed by a person possessing greater evil and insanity than his own. That is the only way. No one else can touch him, no weapons can harm him, unless they are held by the one who can truly kill him. However, Moraqeb has existed in this world since its dawn, torturing humans, watching them from the shadows in their every waking moment; his silhouette can be seen in the darkest of shadows at night, his eyes, red like ruby stone, shine in the darkness, piercing through our souls.”

Clip from a police report, dating from September 2003:

“…The crime scene was like that of the murder, except for the suicide note we found on the victim’s computer:

“Tonight I’ll end it all. I can’t take it anymore, it has been weeks since I last slept. He watches. He watches me from the shadows of my own home, his eyes are like burning charcoal, just staring at me with his expressionless face. I can’t take this a single second more than I already have. It’s too much, it’s just too much.

He’s playing tricks on me, the fucking bastard. I saw his head come out of the monitor; a mouth formed on his face and his teeth smashed in my skin. I closed my eyes shut and when I opened them there was nothing there. I went to the mirror only to see that there wasn’t a single mark on my face. Then I saw him in the mirror, smiling at me.

I hear a taping on the window, it must be him, the Watcher. My shotgun is ready. If it doesn’t kill him then I’ll just blow my head off before he gets to me.

Two hours until night falls, I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him.”

A couple of hours later the neighbors heard a window smash open, gunshots, something that sounded like a very loud sigh of disappointment followed by screams of terror. Then they called 911. When we came it looked exactly like a murder/robbery case, like I have already stated. Except that the gore was too much for a regular murder – the victim’s intestines were found on the ceiling fan and with his own blood someone had spelled “He watches” on the floor –we believe the victim himself has written that. There was nothing missing from his belongings. ”

July 3rd,  2010.

It was a late Saturday night and I was coming home from work… Well, okay, I’m a squatter, I don’t practically own a home. I’ve been living at the home of a recently butchered family; I think they’re still in the attic, unless someone came up and took them while I was working.

So, like I said, I was coming home from work on a late Saturday night when I decided to cut short through the forest in order to come home faster as I was expecting an old childhood friend of mine to pay me a visit – the note I got from her clearly stated that she wanted to see me again. As I was passing through the forest I could hear light footsteps following me, but I paid it no heed up to the moment when my follower decided to show up right in front of me. He was fairy tall, taller than me, and was all in black – his face and body were the purest of black I have ever seen.  His eyes, though, they were what interested me the most – they shone in a deep mesmerizing red color, compared only to ruby or a flame. They were way too beautiful to be on a face such as his. Remembering that she was going to pay a visit I took out my butterfly knife, opened it and said:

“Hey bud, how much for the eyes?”

He looked puzzled until I charged at him with my knife. As I was a step away from him something resembling a pure-black cloud pushed me back; I flew for a couple of seconds before slamming in a tree. Something warm came down from my head and made its way to the back of my neck. Blood. Enraged I screamed at him:

“Hey, that fucking hurt, you asshole!” He just stood there silent with his head tilted slightly to the right. His red eyes stared at mine; both of us not blinking.

I could feel my pulse at the back of my head and the pain slowly came to me. The happiness I felt made way to rage as I charged at him once more. My knife was lost somewhere on the ground. Again when I was just a step away I saw the black cloud form in front of him; it was as if it was coming out of his own body.

Discarding any instinct and logic I punched the black cloud just as it had taken shape. The red-eyed entity flew back and stopped at the nearest tree, falling on what seemed to be his ass. My entire arm was getting numb just from punching the cloud, but I rushed forward and smashed my fist against his face. The tree behind his head fell down, broken in half, and the skin covering my knuckles was missing.

“What the…”

He was gone the moment I took my eyes off him. Next thing I know he’s standing around 100 feet from me, the darkness that covered his face lifted a bit only to uncover a huge smile. Shortly after his mouth was again covered and with his head held a little down, as if he was disappointed, he disappeared into the darkness. Moments after the first ray of sunlight entered the forest. I found my knife and went home.

During the day nothing memorable happened; sirens going on here and there, people preparing for the holiday, nothing new outside. But I was burning inside. I had so much energy, so much fuel inside my chest that I barely kept myself from laughing for hours. I knew he’d come tonight and I prepared myself. I just couldn’t wait, the excitement was so amusing, my heart was beating twice as fast, my head was pounding, my hands were shaking and my smile never left my face. I couldn’t stay still, I was walking in circles for hours, I jumped around and laughed, I couldn’t wait for him to come again. The desire to kill him, not just anyone – him, was so big I didn’t even go do the work I had planned on doing today.

Around 6PM I laid on my bed, hands behind my head, and waited. I stared at the window right infront of the bed for what seemed an eternity.

Until he finally showed up, knocking loudly on the window.

“While I nodded, nearly napping” I started reciting, “suddenly there came a tapping, as of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. `’Tis some visitor,’ I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door – only this, and nothing more.’ “My fingers grabbed the three kitchen knives under the pillow and I threw them at the window, screaming “I HEARD YOU RAPPING!”

The knives broke the glass and pierced his body. It slowly looked towards the knives then back at me, then back at the knives. As soon as its ‘eyes’ were set on me lying on the bed with my huge smile it jumped towards, smashing the window to pieces. I laughed and kicked it up, its body hit the ceiling and I pulled out the steak knife from under the covers. As I was about to stab it, it suddenly reappeared from the wall next to me, grabbed me by the hair and threw me towards the other wall. I somehow managed to hit my head at the exact same spot I did the first time, and let me tell you – it didn’t hurt any less. His hands grabbed my shoulders, lifted me up and my body was slammed against the concrete half a dozen times. He tried biting my throat with his razor-like teeth but only received a head-butt. His grip loosened, I punched him in what was supposed to be his stomach and kicked him off. To my surprise the only effect that had on him was making him take a couple of steps backwards.

But that’s all I needed. I jumped forth, stabbed his upper abdomen with the steak knife, grabbed his face and charged towards the wall. I started smashing his head against the wall, laughing. It was so much fun, I didn’t even feel when the steak knife left his abdomen and entered mine. I noticed it as soon as my vision got blurry – my white sweatshirt had a huge red stain on it, and this time – it was from me.

“Fucker…” I said, my voice slightly trembling. I bashed his head against the wall one more time; a piece of daub fell from the wall.

My vision was getting darker; I saw the smile forming on his face…
That same moment something flew right past my head, plunged deep in the casement and caught my attention. I smiled widely as I heard a “Hello, Jeff” coming from the doorway.

I turned my head towards the person whom the voice belonged to. She was there, wearing a black dress like the one I gave her, her black hair reaching to below her shoulders, her face, hidden behind the while mask.


Strangely, my vision returned to normal, adrenaline pumped me up. I faced ‘it’ once more, lowering my head to its ear.

“Sorry, play-time’s over, we had a good run. Now…” I reached inside my pocket. “Go to sleep.” I said as I started pummeling my knife in his left eye.
Newspaper article, 17th August 2033:.


Infamous serial killer – Jeff the Killer – has taken another victim – A family of 6 were found dead this morning by the police. Psychologist Jason Kriegswald believes that Jeff’s brutality has arisen after the death of his so-called associate, namely Jane the Killer. Jane was supposedly murdered six years ago in Pennsylvania, however her body has yet to be found. There is no confirmation that she has contacted Jeff in the past six years either. Police are still investigating his whereabouts.”

Lt. Collin Hummerfree’s report, July 3rd,  2034.

“The victim – 24 year old male Jacob Hurtsby – was found by his wife – 23 year old Melinda Hurtsby – earlier this morning. The body is almost drained of all the blood – with it someone had written on the wall “I AM BACK, JEFF.” Victim’s left eye was missing.”
Credit To – Erfalion

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  1. No, go away Jeff. No one loves you. Erfalion, you should be ashamed, however I do say good job, at first I thought that this might actually be a good story. If you did not make this about Jeff then maybe it would be ok.

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  2. Again I will say, likely to a deaf ear, Jeff the Killer is poison to pastas. It wasn’t good when it was made and it isn’t good now. The worst thing is your writing style is fair and you clearly have a level of skill. However this is all competently destroyed by the inclusion of Jeff. Please never include Jeff in anything ever again.

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  3. Thought this was gonna be a Slenderpasta, and actually potentially a halfway interesting or decent one. I personally dig the idea of using myths and ancient legends with Old Slim.

    Was very disappointed to discover this was just another shitty Jeffpasta. Throw out this stale pasta monster already!

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