"Pay up and let me out." The stench of his car was now almost unbearable, and at this point, Y/n didn't care if she looked like a bitch; smelt like something fucking died in there and if she had noticed this before she would've never gotten inside! Although the walk back to her apartment would be even longer she would rather walk than stay with this freak; her clothes probably smelt like crap. Not like she didn't always stink like semen and nicotine, but she didn't need rotting meat added to the mix.

Turning her attention back to the now masked man she started to yell, "give me my fucking money freak! Let me leave. I can't handle the smell!" Y/n was beginning to worry as he merely laughed at her before reaching down to his ankle. His skin was grainy, and a grey-ish red, a visible sign of a severe skin condition, the problem wasn't his skin; it was the fact he had a large hunting knife strapped to his ankle.

"Afraid I'm going to be your last fuck for a while doll-face."

Y/N laughed nervously and felt a knot tighten inside her stomach, "not if I can help it."

Immediately ducking into the backseats, the woman once again tugged at the door handles before turning back to the man before he lunged. The knife he held was big too, looked like an army grade hunting knife with a serrated edge and all. Had to be nine-inches at least! Y/n knew this wasn't his first time either, Jeff was well prepared, from scoping her out a day before to covering his face. Now Y/n had met some Ted Bundy types in her past. But every time it always caught her off guard. No matter how many close calls she situations like these still scared the shit out of her; always so unexpected to, you think you can read people pretty well after all the years as a prostitute.

Y/n threw her heels at the man and began banging closed fists at the window the woman didn't even get a scream out before Jeff's gloved hand grabbed her hair and slammed the her head against the window. A sickening crunch rang through the car while the cracked glass was starting to cut her face violently.

Headbutting Jeff and quickly attempting to squirm out of the window, before she reached the ground, a sharp pain erupted in her ankle, making Y/n cry out in pain. The feeling could only be described as molten metal poured into a gaping wound; Roughly Y/n was dragged back through the window, still screaming and failing around. At this point, her head was spinning, and her vision was blurry; If she was going to die Y/n was going to see his face. He could give her at least that luxury.

The pair struggled to overpower eachother, giving Y/N a perfect opportunity to rip his stupid mask off his face. If he was going to take her life, this monster should at least show his face like a real man.

SNAP.

A terrified scream erupted from Y/N's mouth as she saw the mans disturbing features. A jagged Glasgow smile ran from ear to ear, crusty blood still coating the wounds mixed with yellow pus. His skin was horribly scarred and discoloured, it was even more disgusting on his face then what was on his ankle, and his eyes. The monster's eyes were a startling baby blue. Wide-open and watching the woman; Jeff looked amused with how she was reacting to his horrifying face.

He had to be the serial killer. That fucking serial killer everyone was talking about.

The knife nearly pierced her chest just as she caught the blade. The two struggled more as the knife slowly lowered further and further down, closer and closer to Y/n's skin. There was no way this bastard was killing her. No fucking way! She wasn't going to be another statistic for the state. The only way to survive this would be for him to stab her, in a place that looked lethal enough but wouldn't do much damage. Maybe near her armpit?

Y/n was begging to weaken. Her muscles were burning, and the woman was beginning to lose hope; all these years and she was going to die with no life experience; no first love, no education, no life. To Y/n it was a bitter ending, but one she would accept; That was until the killer surprisingly lost his grip, the grip that ensnared her in his clutches was now gone. Kicking him, she quickly crawled out of the window and began sprinting down the street; tears ran down her sweaty face as she was surprised he hadn't taken her life; Y/n didn't see the car nor the deranged man behind her as she turned, surprisingly. Y/N didn't stop running, but her guard was down a little as she began to run down the street towards the apartment block.

The wind pierced her skin as she ran faster than ever before, not once stopping to breathe or look behind her; tears still ran aimlessly down her face as Y/n was still in shock at the violent attack that had just occurred, especially when the Glasgow Killer had attacked her. The man might not have been him, perhaps just some disgusting copy cat but something about his eyes said otherwise. The look he gave her and the way his infected smile dripped blood onto her skimpy dress made the woman's heart skip a beat out of fear.

This had been the closest anyone had gotten to killing her before, even when she was younger, there had never been such a close call in her life. Sam warned her about the dangers of the world regularly, Y/N never listened to the old man. Although his advice would've been handy back in that fucking car. If Y/n just listened, she could've learned a thing or two from the old man. What would the old bat say to her once Y/N told him? The thought of Sam having a heart attack in front of her was funny but fleeting as a voice cut through the silence.

"You ok, darlin'?"