APRIL CHALLENGE!!1!1!1!1!3!2!

If you read this, do the community challenges pls pls we staff beg /j

okay this months challenge was SO COOL so I had to give it a go. Also, hopefully this will get some more applications… PLEASE GUYS WE GET LIKE TWO A MONTH /lh

This months challenge was combining a creepypasta character with a song, and immediately I knew what I wanted to do…

*rubs hands together evilly*

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

Jeff Woods fans, I offer you;

‘Working For The Knife’ by Mitski

Here are some of my favourite quotes and how I think they apply to our favourite boy.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

”I always knew the world moves on

I just didn’t know it would go without me.

I start the day high, and it ends so low

‘cause I’m working for the knife.”

I’m a literature student when I’m not on here being given silly titles by you guys… ( :eyes: ) so I’m going to analyse this like I would unseen poetry or prose.

”the world” directly relates to the life Jeff knew before becoming a proxy— ie, being a son, a brother, a student, and most of all, happy. Given we’re talking about the Woods version, we know from canon that Liu was an incredibly loving and ive brother, willing to go to juvie just to keep his brother out of harms way.

It must have hurt to be forced to leave behind that regular, content life in order to become a proxy— and it would have hurt even more to see the world “go on without him”, ie learn of his brothers survival, seeing his name fade from newspapers, and ultimately become forgotten about.

Also, working for the knife… come on! I’ve never heard of a better metaphor for Jeff’s work a proxy.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

“I always thought the choice was mine

And I was right

But I just chose wrong

I start the day lying and end with the truth

That I’m living for the knife”

Most poignantly, this line disrupts the usual verse pattern we see by changing the phrase “working for the life” to “living for the knife”. This is so impactful as a last line because, just as the singer “ends their day with the truth”, the song ends on a truthful note— that they aren’t just working for the knife, but living for it.

Apply this to Woods, and the message becomes that after years, he’s no longer a proxy out of necessity, or force, or reluctance. He’s a proxy because it gives him purpose. It’s made him who he is, and he’s terrified of being anyone else. Big, bad, scary Jeff The Killer might have no friends, but he also has very few enemies, because having a tough reputation means protecting yourself.

And he wasn’t able to properly protect himself when he was young. :’)

Listening to this song for the first time made me immediately think of Jeff and I hope I can do the same for you… It beautifully conveys the horror of realising that the terrible things you do are no longer excusable. In Jeff’s case, he can’t keep hiding behind the “little boy abducted by an eldritch abomination and forced into committing evil acts” thing anymore. The song could represent his slow, dramatic acceptance that this isn’t an act anymore.

’Jeff The Killer’ isn’t a fake persona. It’s just him.

On that deliciously tragic note… A short story, inspired by this exact scene!

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

Consistency had always been something Jeff appreciated, especially given how hectic proxy life tended to be. In a world where one wrong comment could do worse than end your life, being able to rely on one thing every day to keep him anchored was a way to maintain what little piece of his sanity he had left.

”I used to think I would tell stories

but nobody cared for the stories I had about

no-good guys”

For Jeff, consistency wasn’t an option freely given. If he wanted things to stay the same then he was forced to fight for them, tooth and nail, and if he came out the other end, beaten and bloody and bruised, so be it.

The easiest way to stay consistent as a killer was to use the same weapon every time. Jeff regretted his haste in choosing the weapon that would later come to represent his brand—a lousy kitchen knife—but some small, pitiful part of him that he wasn’t yet sure how to cut out of him kept insisting, “at least something’s been with us this whole time.”

”I always thought the world moves on

I just didn’t know it would go without me.”

True as it was, Jeff felt like he needed a change. His knife had been a symbol since he’d turned thirteen, and as a man now twenty six years old, he was above a common household melee weapon.

Still, the thought of something new made him sick.

He’d spent years convincing himself that he had never killed anyone. If he just so happened to be holding the weapon while it worked, he was just unlucky, but to him, the real murderer was the weapon. His hands had never sliced through skin, never plunged into exposed flesh, never left scars that wouldn’t quite close.

It was a pitiful way of assuaging guilt, but it was what worked for him, though he’d sooner die than ever it out loud that the crushing weight of knowing he’d killed tens, hundreds, THOUSANDS with little than a barrier between him as his victims was enough to make him hurl.

He turned over the large, blockish kitchen knife in his hand and watched as the moonlight filtering in through parted curtains glinted off the smooth metal.

”I start the day high…”

He took good care of his weapon of choice, as any detail oriented killer did. There were small scratches and visible wear freckled across the blade after the thirteen years of service it had done him, all with no complaints. It did was it supposed to and nothing else. The metal, even after a good polish, refused to reflect Jeff’s reflection despite how grotesquely poetic the image would be.

Slowly, tentatively, Jeff trailed his fingertip over the blade of the knife, lingering by the apex.

This was the same metal that had felt the skin of his mother. His father. His brother. His childhood best friend’s parents, and the cheeks of his childhood best friend. It had slit open so many, left hundreds to bleed out in the cold, and stopped the hearts of hundreds more before they could even get the chance.

Gruesome. Disgusting. And yet, here he was, tracing the blade in what looked a little like nostalgia.

Truth was, this dingy old thing was holding him back. Jeff was, unfortunately, a sentimental man, and letting go of the thing that had served him his entire life as a proxy this far scared him more than he was comfortable with. But, it had to be done. With every slice and stab and slit and plunge, Jeff was furthering the persona.

The boy who went mad and killed his family for no good reason. The boy with no discernible motive, that crazy lunatic down in Wisconsin who’d gone nuts after a fire.

Well, Jeff was many things, and crazy wasn’t one of them. Not yet, anyway. He knew exactly why he did what he did, and he did it deliberately. A crazy person could never be as meticulous, as precise and calculated and ruthlessly efficient as he was. If he wanted people to know how truly remarkable he was, it started with the knife.

”—and it ends so low, cause I’m…”

With one final trace of the blade, Jeff dropped the blade into the bin beside his desk, and it hit the bottom with a clatter.

Jeff’s heart dropped in sync.

”—working for the knife.”

Jeff reached into the pocket of his hoodie and withdrew a small butterfly knife. The two handles were a dark maroon, almost bronze, and had a smooth, matte finish that he stopped to trail his thumb nail over in amusement.

To anyone else, switching out one knife for another wasn’t that big of a deal, but to him?

This felt like acceptance.

He didn’t have to be Jeff The Killer, the man with the kitchen knife.

No, Jeffrey Alan Woods could be much, much scarier.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

Yes this was very corny.

Yes the whole story was about Jeff’s fixation on his brand and how he’s perceived.

No, I don’t care if you think my Jeff is too soft or too human or too ‘twinkified.’ /playful /nm

the next one of you to call my Jeff a twink is getting a twink!jeff x y/n story dmed to them as a threat. I DON’T CARE ANYMORE. /j

Anyway… KILLERS WITH MOTIVES AND PERSONALITIES >>> KILLERS THAT ARE CRAZY JUST FOR SHITS AND GIGS

tyvm for reading ilysm have an amazing day and PLEASE ENTER THE MONTHLY COMPETITIONS! Our leaders work so hard on them :’))

also… free ac!!

OKAY BYE!!

-Jackson :smiling_imp:

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

#AprilChallenge