Heart Killer (Jeff the Killer x Male! Reader)

Revelations

A/n: Sorry for the late update.

-Scott-

"He's sick?" Dallas asks his mom, seeing Scott still in his pajamas on the couch.

"Yeah, his temperature ran 100 degrees this morning. Seems like he's staying home today." She looked at him with worried eyes. Personally, he was glad to be sick. It meant he could watch TV all day and snoop around.

"What's going on?" (Y/n) barges into the conversation as he hurries down the stairs.

"Scott's stayin' home sick today." His dad tells him. (Y/n) turns to look at Scott, before shrugging and leaving the room. "Well, I'm going to work." Dallas announces before giving his wife a kiss and heading out. 

"Are you sure you'll be okay? I have errands to run and some people to meet up with, so I won't be here." His mom explained worriedly.

"Yeah, Mom I'm fine." Scott groaned at the coddling. He wasn't a child. His mom left him alone after that and got ready to leave as well. He heard the front door open and close. Sounds like (Y/n) just left. His mom said goodbye to him again before she left, and he was left with the house to himself. He waits around ten minutes, just to make sure everyone's gone before getting up.

Sure, he was kind of sick, but he felt fine enough to snoop around a bit. He knew (Y/n) was hiding something and this might've been his only chance to find out. Maybe he had a secret girlfriend or something? Scott walked up to (Y/n)'s room, not feeling the need to sneak around since he was the only one home. He opened the door, which was luckily unlocked, and looked around. It looked normal. He'd been in there before, not recently, but it didn't look like much had changed. It was cleaner than Scott's room. A part of him felt guilty for invading his stepbrother's privacy, but he was just so curious. He also wanted to find some dirt on him, maybe something he could use as blackmail.

He snooped around, looking through drawers and such, but nothing out of the ordinary. Even his closet seemed to hide no secrets. Scott was starting to get frustrated; he had been waiting for this chance all morning. He had to find something! 

Under the bed! Of course, there's gotta be something under there, right? Scott lay down on the floor and looked under the bed. Lying next to a pile of clothes he was able to spot a phone. Got ya'! Scott snatched the phone from under the bed. It was an old thing. It didn't look like it could do much anymore besides text and call. There was a camera though. Scott turned it on, and he was thrilled to find that the old phone didn't require a password. Too easy! 

Scott taps on the message's icon. He'd have to be texting whoever he's been hanging around. He scrolled through but didn't see much out of the ordinary. He pretty much saw exactly what would've been expected. He saw Elliot, Willow, (Y/n)'s own contact for some reason, and that was it. It seemed like it must've been a burner phone. Maybe (Y/n) didn't use it anymore. Scott frowned and tapped on each of the contacts. He wanted to find something. Maybe he told one of his friends. He did a quick swipe through Willow's messages but didn't find much. He looked through Elliot's and the text's seemed more frequent with him than with Willow. He scrolled up again, all the messages seemed sort of normal. Well, they were all out of context, but Scott expected that. He needed something deep! He came across a long string of one-sided messages from Elliot and looked at them curiously. He seemed to be trying to get (Y/n)'s attention aggressively. Scott continued to scroll, and he stumbled upon some photos. Finally! 

Scott tapped on the images, not quite processing what exactly he was clicking on. The first picture was enough to freak him out. What he saw was more than Scott could've imagined finding. He stared at the image of the killer on the news. He knew who was in the photo. After all, he saw his face on the news every evening. The killer was holding a bottle of wine in one hand and taking a selfie with the phone in the other. Scott swiped to the next photo, expecting to see some sort of context. In the background of the next few photos, (Y/n)'s standing there goofily trying to grab the camera out of the killer's hands. He doesn't look scared. In fact, he looks happy. This is all so strange. Scott swipes to the next photo and it's surprisingly more jarring.