Nov 9, 2026

Notice: About Recent Slower Generation Speeds and Limited Computing Resources — Dear PixAI Community, Thank you for your continued love and support for PixAI. Recently, generation speeds on PixAI have…

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Jeff The Killer

Contest Entry

PixAI “Halloween Oddities Club” Special Contest - A Night at Higan Inn

เผยแพร่เมื่อ Nov 5, 2026

J Buns

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character: jeff_the_killer 1boy, solo, full body, standing, evil smile, glasgow grin, cut mouth, teeth, black hair, long hair, messy hair, white hoodie, grey hoodie, black pants, black shoes, holding knife, weapon, blood, holding, head tilt, pale skin, from below, dutch angle, looking at viewer, wide-eyed, grin, hood down, blood on hands, blood on blade, blood on teeth, dark background, high contrast Slight dutch angle from below, full body in frame head to shoes: a single pale-skinned young man stands with his weight settled on his right leg, left knee loose and slightly bent, hips canted, shoulders dropped unevenly so the whole torso leans a few degrees off plumb. His head tilts far over to his left, ear nearly toward his shoulder, so the long messy black hair slides sideways off his scalp and falls in loose, ragged hanks past his jaw on the raised side, a few strands stuck flat to his cheek, the rest hanging free against the collar. Both corners of his mouth are slit upward into a wide glasgow grin that pulls his lips apart and exposes a full row of teeth, pale gums and the dark seams of the cuts, and a thin line of blood has run from the right cut down across his chin and dried in a tacky streak along the jaw. His eyes are wide and fixed straight at the viewer, lower lids tight, brows barely lifted, and the grin holds without any warmth at all. He wears an oversized white hoodie with grey panels across the shoulders, the sleeves and the hood, the hood pushed back so the fabric bunches in a thick roll behind his neck; the front hem hangs unevenly because his left hand is rammed into the hoodie pocket, dragging that side down. His right arm comes forward across his body at hip height, elbow softly bent, and the hand grips a plain kitchen knife by the handle, fingers curled around it, thumb riding the bolster. Fresh blood smears the back of that hand and runs down the blade to bead and drip from the tip, and a spatter of it has soaked into the white cuff and the grey shoulder panel in fine dark flecks. His black pants are loose at the thigh and taper to the ankle, creased hard across the front of the knee, the left leg's hem breaking over the top edge of his black shoes, which are scuffed and planted flat on the ground, toe of the right foot turned slightly outward. Behind him the setting is a near-empty dark field, an unlit interior wall falling away into black with no detail, lit only by a single cold source from ahead and slightly to the left, so the light picks out the white side of the hoodie, the wet shine on his teeth and the flat of the blade while the right side of his face, the underside of his chin and the wall behind him sink into shadow. The blade catches a thin hard highlight along its edge and throws nothing back at him. Cool, desaturated palette: bone white, ash grey, flat black, and the blood as the only warm note. Quiet dread.

Jeff The Killer

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