Jeffrey Woods Creepypasta Novels & Stories

For a moment, he just stares at me, breathing heavily, like he’s holding back words he isn’t ready to say. Then he exhales sharply and pulls his phone from his pocket. “Fine,” he says through gritted teeth. “If you won’t take my word for it, maybe you’ll believe this.” Confused, I watch as he taps the screen a few times before shoving it toward me. An article fills the display, the headline screaming at me in bold black letters “CHAD Woods UNDER INVESTIGATION FOR ATTEMPTED MURDER.” My breath catches. My vision blurs as I read the subtext, my knees nearly buckling beneath me. It details a night I know all too well.

Like a sudden hollowness yawned wide inside him, black and endless, as though something had been carved out of his soul and left unfilled. His hands trembled. A cold sweat gathered at the back of his neck and the terror that came with it gripped his bones. He stumbled backward, nearly tripping over his own feet. He clamped his hand over his nose and ran away, desperate to escape the scent. What was happening? Why did dead bodies and blood smell so nice to him? What the hell was he? ******** The woods were quiet, save for the distant chirping of birds and the soft rustle of wind through the trees.

It was an article about the greendale woods. The same woods i went into that day. As I continued to search online, a particular article caught my eye. It was about the Greendale Woods, the same woods I had gone into on the day I first encountered Nikau and the pack. I quickly read through the article, my heart racing with excitement. It described a group of werewolves that had been spotted in the woods, and even included a blurry photo of what looked like a wolf standing on two legs.

“The bodies… they weren’t just torn apart. They were… mutilated. Like something was sending a message.” A cold chill ran down my spine. “And you think a monster did this?” “It’s not just us,” another man said. “There’ve been stories about these woods for years. People disappearing, strange noises at night. Most of us thought they were just old pack tales, but now…” “Now you’re not so sure,” I finished for him. He nodded grimly. By the time I returned to my room that night, my head was spinning with questions. If the stories about the woods were true, then this wasn’t just a rogue wolf or even a vengeful pack member. This was something much older, much darker.

Avery and Jeffrey sat down alone at the fireplace, as the woods burned slowly. The room was dark due to the power outage and the crackling fire, provided them light. They both sat on the couch as they watched it burn as it slowly began to consume the woods. “You have eaten,” Jeffrey said amidst the silence as he munched on a slice of pizza from its box and stared at Avery, who glanced at him before staring at the crackling fire. “Is anything wrong?” He asked with a worried look on his face.

Camille to daughter, Kara (11yrs) _________________________________________________________ ALLY’s POV My father was going mad with rage. Three more dead bodies had been found in less than two weeks. All showing the same symptoms: No pupils, fangs removed and black liquid oozing from their mouth. All in their teenage years. At first, we were convinced that whoever was doing this attacked only girls, until Jeff's dead body was found floating on the lake.

There's indeed a dangerous creature in the woods—more dangerous than bears and wild pigs—werewolves. We couldn't eat till the alarm went off at practically ten o'clock in the evening. Papa George gazed through the little hole in our front door, sighing with satisfaction that nothing had fallen or consumed the animals. He had no idea there were werewolves in the woods. Perhaps Alfredo will inform the public about the news by tomorrow. It was nearly late, and no one wanted to go out because of the alert, so the calm province grew even quieter.

Julia had never seen such a look in real life, only in documentary footage in school about soldiers returning from war, the haggard men, their features deformed by the weight of guilt, by their own individual dread. Behind the father: rows of dead trees. In their branches, crows ruffled their wings and sharpened beaks against the thorns. *** Wes watched them for some time. Their small faces through the windows. All white-faced, all squinting against the sun. Once, there had been a large spider in the corner of his bedroom. Reggie was next to him, asleep at the time—and that was for the best. Had she seen it there would’ve been screams and melodrama, and that he couldn’t stand at the best of

Those creatures were so deranged in their minds that their distorted behaviors directly mirrored the twisted personalities of the Keepers who had created them, reflecting a disturbing link between creator and creation. I'd laughed at the stories when I was younger. Old men around dying fires, half-drunk, swearing the pale things in the woods weren't after blood but something hotter, wetter, more desperate. I'd called it lonely-men nonsense. When I got a little older, I still didn't want to believe that those things existed in these woods. I never saw it in any of the other mate hunts, and because of that, I truly thought it was all superstition. I wasn't laughing now. I couldn't laugh.

Most would be happy to come back to life but I’m not most, although, with time I learned to appreciate the gift—I’m glad I got this chance Jessica is no more. To think she came back to life as a vampire—now I know vampires are real too. It’s a crazy world, hehe I’m Mason Woods, a motherfucking Exorcist and this is my last confession I LOVE YOU NOT ONLY FOR WHAT YOU ARE, BUT FOR WHAT I AM WHEN I AM WITH YOU. I LOVE YOU NOT ONLY FOR WHAT YOU HAVE MADE OF YOURSELF, BUT FOR WHAT YOU ARE MAKING OF ME. I LOVE YOU FOR THE