"So...............they were just casually coming in your room? That seems........a bit hard to believe." Patrick was sitting next to me on the bench, and I was telling him what happened while the murderous duo, or trio(?), were breaking into the apartment.

I sighed. "I know. It's just..........well, this isn't really the most believable situation now, is it?"

He shook his head in agreement. "I just think it's weird that Sophie just waltzes into my room and tells me her life story. It's not something that would happen everyday, would it?"

"Yeah, I think so. I don't think David'd send her to tell you about all that's happened to her. I can't actually believe you're actually still alive until now. He didn't seem to leave many people alive for a long time. I don't know why he'd keep you alive." I hadn't given that much thought, actually.

"I haven't noticed, actually. I was kind of too dazed by the fact that my oh-so-long life could end any second." I scoffed.

"I don't think so, Alice. I don't think he's plotting to kill you. I think he'll either just stalk you or he'll kill you after a longer period of time." He said as if it was a casual thing.

"Patrick?"

"Yeah?"

"Can we please talk about something else rather than my death? I haven't talked about many other things in the past few days, you know? It's kind of unnerving to talk about your own death as a normal and casual subject."

"Oh, sorry. Well, I have a subject!" I looked at him doubtfully as he spread his arms and looked up. "ISN'T THE WEATHER GREAT?" He shouted, causing quite a few people to look at him weirdly. Especially since it wasn't that great weather. Or.........I noticed icy white bits in the air. My eyes widened.

"IT'S SNOWING, PATRICK! IT'S MARVELOUS, WONDERFUL, MAGICAL SNOW!" Another few people looked at me, and they must have thought that I was insane. The fact that I had a 'Glasgow Smile' didn't exactly help the situation.

A thirteen-year-old walked up to me. "Excuse me..........." He looked a bit nervous. I smiled.

"Yes?"

"Are you............are you Jane the Killer?" Who? I had no idea who that was, but by the looks of Patrick, he knew who that was. He was trying not to laugh, but failing.

"Who's Jane the Killer?" I asked him.

"Well, have you heard of Jeff the Killer?" I shook my head. He rolled his eyes. "Do you have internet?" he asked cautiously. I nodded. "HOW CAN YOU NOT KNOW THE CREEPYPASTA FAMILY?!" I was confused.

"Is that.....like.........scary spaghetti or something?" Him and the thirteen-year-old started laughing.

"Excuse me?" I asked her. He suddenly blushed. "Oh, sorry." he apologized, then ran off.

Patrick continued his story. "Well, so, Jeff the Killer is this guy who seems an awful lot like David. Same smile, same insanity. Except, Jeff has this catchphrase. 'Go To Sleep', he says. Pretty nice, eh? Anyway, Jeff is a killer, as you can guess by the name. He was bullied, and the leader of them poured alcohol and bleach on Jeff. Randy, that's his name, set fire to Jeff, charring his hair and bleaching his skin. Jeff thought that was great. At one point, he burned his eyelids off and cut a smile in his face, and killed his parents, and his brother. End of Jeff's story." Alright. So, there are more than one psycho killers on the loose. "Before you ask, no, they aren't actually real. It's stories on the internet, known as Creepypastas, which have nothing to do with spaghetti." Well that's awkward.

"But where does this Jane come into the picture?" He gave me the 'right question' nod.

"Well, Jane the Killer is Jeff's counterpart. She was invited to his house the day he killed his parents. She basically got the 'Jeff treatment' when Jeff poured gasoline on her and set her on fire. She didn't have a smile on her face, though. I think that girl got her facts wrong........."

I learned something very unimportant and irrelevant. "..........Patrick?"

"Yes?"

"Why do you know this stuff?"

He laughed again, and put his hand on my shoulder. "Internet, Alice, the internet. It is a marvelous thing, with great stories on it. Some are complete shit, though."

"Like the stories you just told me!" He stopped laughing, and got really serious.

"Alice, you may say anything. You can call me an arsehole, but you can't insult the great and famous fathers of Creepypasta." I just laughed.