They called him Jeff...

I was walking along the winding dirt road in which I lived on. My cold hands were stuffed into the pockets of my torn blue jeans. Today, I decided to take a narrow path through the forest as a shortcut to my house. The clouds were an eery shade of gray and threatened to rain, and I didn't want to be caught in one of the horrible storms that our area was prone to. I took a deep breath and turned onto the path, kicking dirt with every step. I quietly hummed the tune of my favorite song to keep me occupied as I climbed over tree trunks and ducked under branches. I heard the soft pitter patter of rain falling on the leaves in the forest. I sighed and raised the hood on my jacket. I had no choice but to keep walking - rain or no rain.

I arrived home and entered through the back door, wiping my muddy feet on the welcome rug. My dog, Skipper, eagerly wiggled his tail and licked my hands.
"Hi, Skipper!" I chattered, ruffling the fur up on his head. I fed him and sat down on my bed as I discarded my wet clothing. The rain outside was very thick - I wasn't even able to see the field behind my house. After taking a long, warm shower, I grabbed a bite to eat and settled down on my couch. I flicked through the channels on the television, settling on the evening news. The familiar chime of Breaking News portion rung through my ears.
"This news is just in. A wild murderer has been spotted around town lately. There have been many encounters of it. Most describe it as a man with shoulder-length black hair, adorned in a white hooded sweatshirt and black dress pants. Police have investigated a crime scene in which an elderly woman died. She had recorded his appearance in her journal. This evidence is all that we can go by. The head of the police squad recommends that all of your windows and doors are locked at all times. Look out for mysterious tracks in your back yard. If anything seems unusual - contact the police department immediately."

I sighed and invited Skipper onto the couch with me, petting his head softly. Just another stupid story that someone invented to keep the cops occupied. There seemed to be a new one featured every week in this town. I stood up to take Skipper for his evening walk. The rain was slightly more calm, but still pretty heavy. Skipper didn't mind, though. He enjoyed rolling around in mud puddles and catching rain drops on his tongue. I watched him run about with a smile on my face. I gave the leash some slack as we entered the narrow strip of woods on the side of the house. Just as we walked in, I heard a few branches snap. I didn't think much of it and I kept going. It sounded as if someone was walking towards us. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and I felt goosebumps rising on my skin. I turned around and dragged Skipper back to the house. He didn't seem thrilled to have to return, but I had a bad feeling about those woods.

As I laid in my bed later, I laughed at how scared I was of a few snapped branches. It was probably a stupid punk teenager trying to prank me. I swear, none of those damn kids respect anyone over their age. I looked out of my shades one last time before closing them. I examined everything under the pale moonlight.

That's when I saw him.