Jeffrey Mason Creepypasta Novels & Stories

The pitiful thing was that Mason did not faint this time. "There's another one." Jason chuckled. "You are a demon." Mason cried. The stimulation of pain was unbearable. "Haha, my enemies say so." Jason sneered. He kicked down again, and his other leg was also crushed by Jason. "You will be killed. I swear." Mason said, biting his lip. He knew that he had become a cripple. After the severe pain in his thigh, he had lost consciousness and could not feel whether his leg was still on him or not.

I have to go see Daffy get to class and do Poppy’s assignments. Sitting in the subway bus, I bit my hands trying to assure myself that everything will be fine, but nothing is going to be fine. His scream when I stabbed him keeps echoing in my mind. “I killed someone…. I just murdered a vampire!!”

“See the M in move on, she added pressure while writing it, the A in and, the cut in between the two lines is bold, the S in someone is printed, the O in someone looks like a Q and the N in monster has a curvy mark at the top.“ he took a piece of paper and wrote on it, “If you bring all these letters together, M.A.S.O.N, Mason. Do you know anyone who goes by that name?“ He asked looking at his son who was seething. “The son of a bitch, it's time I sent him to the afterlife.“ He gritted. “Nemesis?“ Massimo asked. “He is a punk who is trying to take over my position as the Don and is obsessed with Laura. Thank you for pointing this out, I will settle this once and for all.“ He left the house.

Awkwardly, Tyler added. "Yes, yes." Parker inclined. "This is the time we should help him, right?" Crunched. Mason's face flipped in their direction and they felt their souls leaving their bodies. Mason had dark circles under his eyes and his lips were chapped as if the soul inside him had been sucked dry, his shoulders droopy. 'Oh my God!' Both Parker and Tyler jolted seeing Mason's eyes on them. "...You." "...Do you have any suggestions?" Mason's voice was scrawny and dry, his face was tilted.

Helena went to bed with the sun, the rest of the family were out prowling the city, and Mason was usually either at a club or locked in his room. Once Jess reached her quarters, she sent a encrypted message to Mason. A few minutes later, he slipped into her room. "Jess, our pup is gone. Why are you summoning me?" Mason said, leaning against the doorframe with a cold sneer. He still blamed her for the loss. "Do you think I wanted to lose my own blood? That was my legacy too!" Jess hissed, pulling him inside and locking the door. "But a pup born of our secret would have been our execution. We couldn't keep it."

I close the screen and drop the phone by my side to grab my book, only to take it after a second. ME: What are you doing? I drum my fingers against the edge of the desk as it shows read and finally, he's typing. ALEX: Sorry. ALEX: I got lost in it. Is he apologizing... For a late reply? A new text comes in again, and it makes me swallow. ALEX: Have you ever heard of masturbation? ME: You're doing that? Right now?

The dark campus is dead silent, but my earpiece is buzzing with absolute chaos. Because my hacker boy Arlo is a certified genius, he didn't just loop the security cameras—he actively tapped into Elite Squad 1's private communication frequency. Crouching in the damp, shadow-drenched bushes with a trembling Chloe right behind me, I listen to the terrifying, top-ranking monsters of the Academy casually chatting in my ear. "The werewolf is stabilizing," Raphael says over the comms, discussing their secret purification potion project. "But you sound distressed, Ilius. Is the secondary formula failing?"

Maybe Uncle Roger had simply misremembered what Bradley said. The second negative concerned the Maston guy. He hadn't shown up in vampire class since that first night, but Leesa couldn't get him out of her mind. Twice, she thought she had sensed his presence, once back in the stacks of the library and once walking home to her dorm in the evening, but when she looked around, there was no sign of him. Perhaps she was just imagining it—or desperately hoping for it—but the feeling had been awfully strong. An Internet search for information about the Mastons and the Moodus Noises produced lots of tales and rumors, but precious little fact. She had found a few pictures of the Mastons and had littl

It lived in my nightmares. Dean stiffened, his weight lifting off me. I peered around his shoulder. Mason Cross stood there, silhouetted against the dim lights. He looked like a god of the underworld, his hands shoved into his pockets, his expression bored but his eyes glowing a faint, dangerous gold. "That's my head-shrinker you’re pawing at," Mason said. "We weren't finished with our session. Get the fuck off her." "Boss," Dean stuttered, his bravado evaporating. "I didn't... I didn't know she was yours."

The first night that she met Mason, when she had been dragging a black garbage bag full of a dismembered pig after one of her experiments, had kick-started her story brain. He was the perfect anti-hero - dark and brooding and nocturnal. When she was safely back in her apartment, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the encounter and the story of the serial killer had simply appeared, fully formed, in her mind.