He, his Mirror Universe counterpart, and Indometus were all sitting around on the bridge, comparing what they found – or didn’t find – in their search for Jeff the Killer’s location.
Mirror Dorkpool spoke up first. "Well, I found a few hundred folks on Facebook, Twitter, Kik, and such who go by the name "Jeff the Killer", and quite a few of whom said they were him. I’m pretty sure they’re just roleplayers though."
"Ok. You, Indo?"
"I think I found something. There have been reports of some guy in a hoodie with rather pale skin skulking in alleys in quite a few cities. These have been dismissed as a hoax or something like that, but it might be something," Indometus said.
"Great! How long will it take us to get to one of these cities?" Dorkpool asked.
"Well, considering that we’re pretty far from Earth, I’d say about a couple of days, give or take."
"Alrighty then. Set a course. And good job, Indo."
Indometus nodded, and went to do so.
Wow, he’s not being narcissistic or saying anything self-aggrandizing, Mirror Dorkpool thought. Maybe he’s moving on from that-
"Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go practice some swordplay in the holodeck. I know I’m pretty awesome at it already – and awesome in general – but I’d like to kick some simulated ass before I kick some real ass." Dorkpool said.
God fucking damn it, Mirror Dorkpool thought.
Dorkpool: Ever heard of the Amalgam universe?
Mirror: I don’t think so.
Dorkpool: Well, back during the 90s, DC and Marvel had crossover in which various superheroes from their stable fought each other. After it was all through, DC and Marvel had titles that combined certain characters (Spider-Man and Superboy became Spider-Boy, Batman and Wolverine became Darkclaw, Superman and Captain America became Super Soldier, etc.)
Mirror: Ok. So why are you mentioning this?
Dorkpool: First, to educate the readers of the Riffs about comics. And second, because the story we’re going to Riff, "Jeff the Killer Murder Tape", is kind of like that. It combines Jeff the Killer with a lost episode. Sort of.
Mirror: I really don’t think that this story is like the Amalgam universe based on what you told me. Maybe if the story was "Jeff’s Suicide" or something, maybe, but it doesn’t seem that way now.
Dorkpool: Whatever. Anyway, let’s watch a blank tape and Riff this bitch!
I’m sure you’ve heard some rumors and stories about this "Jeff the Killer Murder Tape."
Dorkpool: No, no I haven’t.
Well, if not, then I’ll tell you about it.
Supposedly it is a long-lost-but-recently-discovered (like Suicidemouse.avi) beta tape which depicts Jeff claiming yet another victim. Yeah, sorry, I don’t really have a good way of describing it, but you get the picture.
Y’know, I always thought that Jeff the Killer was a mere rip-off of Dark Knight, but once I found the tape I immediately changed my mind.
Mirror: (Narrator): I realized he was a ripoff of "Batman and Robin."
Jeff to me had always just been a fake-freak, though, I had gotten scared and couldn’t sleep the first night I had heard of him.
My friend, Jake, and I like to help. I mean, we go around town, cleaning up any trash or drebis that is floating around.
Dorkpool: (Narrator): We ignore debris though.
One day, I was picking up some leftover food and bags that were dropped on the ground, when I stumbled across the tape. I picked it up and examined it. It had no label, no copyrights, nothing. It was just this blank tape.
Mirror: And at this moment, everyone knew that the narrator was screwed.
"Hey Jake, come over here!" I called to him. Jake turned around and ran up to me, and I could just see the curiosity on his face.
"What?" he said as he spotted a soda can on the ground.
"I found this tape." I replied, showing it to him. He said, ‘cool’ and ran to get some more stuff. I knew he didn’t think an old tape was that interesting, but I had interest in even the most unexpected stuff.
Dorkpool: (Narrator): I found the corpse of a hooker once!
"I think I will take this home with me," I told him,
Mirror: (Narrator): …despite the fact that he doesn’t give microbe of a damn.
then I got on my bike and road home. My parents had owned a Beta VHS, but lost it, so when I arrived at home I dug it out of an old cardboard box and popped the tape in.
Almost immediately, it showed a boy (no older than about 8) strapped to a chair.
Dorkpool: (Narrator): In the background, someone was saying, "You’ll eat your vegetables, god damn it!"
He is crying and sobbing, rocking back and forth begging the cameraman to let him go. The guy who was holding the camera gently put it down on a counter and walked up to the boy. He said in a cold and silky voice, "No."
Mirror: Well, he’s blunt.
I do not know why, but something about his voice made me shiver. The guy, whose back had been turned to the camera whipped his head around and stared at it, almost as if he was staring at me.
Dorkpool: (Narrator): That guy was…Shia LeBouf!
His mouth was slit into a wide, malicious grin, and his eyes were big and bloodshot. He smiled, which made his smile grow even bigger (if possible) until it looked like his face was going to split in half.
Mirror: We can hope…
His hair was a black tangle. His skin was paper-white and he wore a white hoodie and black jeans. The kid trembled with fear as the man slowly creeped up to him with a knife.
Then, it hit me,
Dorkpool: (Narrator): Ow!
it was Jeff the killer! He took the knife and slit a deep smile into the kid’s scared face. He started carving and cutting into the boy, who was screaming like mad.
Jeff started laughing… maniacally… and then he started cutting around the edges of the boy’s head and began peeling off his face. It was sick; when Jeff was done, he brought up a giant beaker of gasoline and dowsed the kid’s lifeless body with it.
Dorkpool: Because Jeff has random beakers of gasoline on hand. Of course.
Then Jeff took a match, threw it on and ran out. The kid’s body started burning; his limbs were falling off and his bones were charring. Jeff ran up to the camera, took it off its stand and the camera cut to black and the tape ejected.
Mirror: Wait, why was he recording himself? Why did he do any of this?
Dorkpool: Why did the writer think this was a good idea?
I sat there motionless, staring down at it. I ended up burning the tape into stinking ashes. If you ever come across another copy, just walk away and don’t touch it, or you’ll end up like me, who’s now having therapy appointments with a doctor.
Dorkpool: As opposed to therapy appointments with a lemon.
Dorkpool: This story sucks.
Mirror: The story seems like a lost episode story with Jeff the Killer shoved into it. Hell, Jeff the Killer isn’t really necessary for this story. It’d make more sense if it were some random murderer. Seriously, this doesn’t really gel with what I know about him. He’s not someone who sets people on fire unless he’s making them "beautiful", and he’s not someone who records himself killing people, and just decides to leave the tape lying around. Speaking of which, why does Jeff do this? What’s the point to it? If he wanted attention, he probably could’ve called a news station or something. If he wanted to remain unknown, then this was a stupid way of doing it. If he wanted to document his murders and keep the tapes for posterity, that makes some sense, but then other questions pop up, like where would he keep the tapes, since he’s supposed to be this serial killer who goes from place to place. Maybe he has them as insurance or something, or maybe he mails the tapes to his victims’ families. Really, any theory I come up with to explain this has some hole in it. Even excusing the giant plot hole that is the basis of this story, it still has quite a few flaws. The main character isn’t developed, and his/her ending line that the reader wouldn’t want to suffer his/her fate because he/she is having "therapy appointments with a doctor" really hurts the story. It’s just so awkwardly phrased that it actually ends up hurting any scare value the story might have had. Also, it’s pretty hard for this story to have much scare value due to the spelling mistakes it has.
Dorkpool: Despite all those flaws, there are some good things. The idea of a serial killer leaving tapes of his murders around isn’t exactly a bad one, and in the hands of decent writer might have actually made a pretty good story. Also, this story isn’t really that long, so one doesn’t have to suffer through it for very long. However, it still isn’t very good. But that’s what we think. What do you guys think? Was the story good? Was the Riff good? Do you wish that someone would leave tapes showing us being mutilated and burned? Leave your thoughts in the comments below.
The memories had been getting worse.
Well, it wasn’t the memories per se, it was the frequency at which they exploded into the killer’s head. Since the first one resurfaced, it had steadily been getting worse and worse. Now it seemed like every other second one resurfaced.
And…it seemed more and more like his old memories were dreams. He used to remember killing three boys – Randy, Keith, and Troy. He still does, but instead of them being bullies, now they seemed to be…target practice for him. He now remembers being told to kill these boys by…someone. He didn’t know who. And the boys…the boys seemed to be scared. They were nothing like the arrogant jackasses who he remembers killing.
Maybe…maybe his old life was all a dream. Maybe these new memories…these new ones were the truth.
No, no he couldn’t believe that. Why would he have those old memories then? For what purpose? No, his old ones must be the truth, and these new ones…they’re just the result of stress or something. Yeah, stress, that’s it. After all, being a serial killer who’s on the run is pretty stressful. That must be it.
He knew, deep down, that the excuse was flimsy and full of holes. But it was the best one he could think of, and he kept repeating it to himself until he was reasonably sure he believed it.