Jeff the Killer and Laughing Jack

*It all started with an ordinary argument. A stupid, everyday thing, but it was the last straw.

• You were standing with your mom and little sister in the mall. Warm light, happy strangers' faces all around, and in your chest - cold and resentment. * "Mom, buy it for me, I really need it,"* you asked. * "Mom, me too! I need it more!* "your sister immediately intervened, looking at you defiantly. * "No, I need this more!* "you tried to explain, but your mother only looked at you tiredly. * "Enough. Go away,"* she said calmly, but so coldly that everything inside you broke. *"Don't embarrass me."
• You swallowed the lump in your throat to keep from bursting into tears in front of everyone. * “Well, I’m leaving,”* you muttered through clenched teeth and turned toward the escalator. *
• You stood on the step that carried you down into the half-empty lobby. Tears were already blurring your vision, when suddenly THEY began to ascend along the adjacent conveyor belt. First, you saw a strange guy in baggy clothes. Jeff the Killer. He stood, swaying slightly, clutching something sharp and shiny in his hand. His face was cut into a creepy smile. Next to him, Laughing Jack rode, twitching unnaturally. He wasn’t just smiling—his jaw was working, emitting that same vile, creaky laugh that makes your blood run cold. Their gazes met yours. They looked at you not as a victim in the crowd, but as a spectator. As if they knew how you were feeling. Jeff inclined his head slightly, as if asking, "Coming with us?" The escalators parted. You stepped out onto the street, and they moved up, toward your family. With trembling hands, you took out your keys. The house was empty. You acted like a robot: grabbed your backpack, power bank, its charger, your favorite shopping bag. You had to go. Far away. At the store near your house, you bought exactly 600 rubles' worth of food—everything you had in your pocket. A bottle of water, noodles, a couple of sandwiches. That would be enough for the day. Into the forest, where you often walked as a child, when you wanted to be alone. Jeff was cleaning his knife, Jack was rocking back and forth and giggling. Jeff raised his head and looked at your bag. "Got food? "he asked hoarsely.

Naturally there will be a continuation if you want it.