Masky Hoodie Creepypasta Novels & Stories

He had turned as pale as a sheet. The old man turned and vanished into the shadows of a side-exit. I frowned as dread started crawling its way up my spine. I turned around to head back to the main street, and my heart stopped dead in my chest. A man was standing ten feet away. He wore a heavy black hoodie and a white porcelain mask that looked like a weeping doll. In his right hand, he held a red plastic jerrycan. I scoffed in disbelief, running a frustrated hand through my hair.

She cursed pointing to the coffee stain at the shoulder area of her T-Shirt. "You can wash that out Xayne,Okay". "Off i go to the restroom and dont fvcking come with me". She said and walked away. The Hoodie dude could be seen running fast down the hall way, he almost ran into a man reading a newspaper but swiftly ran down the stairs instead. He bumped into a woman who grabbed him against the wall but he headbutt her which caused her eyes to turn yellow as her face became creepy, His finger nails grew into thick claws and he thrust it into her side twisting it,

I cried into his embrace, all the time my gazed fixed to Marguerite’s glassy eyes. Lucifer laid the unmoving corpse down on the stone, her final resting place. He dipped his fingers into the thick sticky pool of blood, and drawing himself back up to his full height walked toward Lucas and myself. Using his fingers, he drew the sticky substance and created an upside down red triangle on Lucas’ forehead. The tip of the triangle nestled between his eyes. The blood pooled at the point, and dripped down the bridge of his nose. He moved his fingers to me. And whilst Lucas held me firmly in my arms by way of comforting me. Lucifer drew the same mark onto my head as well.

As Tommaso steps out of the wardrobe with a smile, I get a strange feeling in my stomach. Just keep calm. Taking a deep breath, I concentrate back on my book. But the ink on the off-white paper pages seem to melt into a blur as I sense the bed dip. Tommaso sits beside me, leaning on the headboard as well, and looks into the book. “What is it about?” “Some murderer doing some crazy rituals with his victims. Like something as a tribute to the Nordic Gods.” He chuckles, and my stomach turns, “Sounds interesting.” Oh, God. What does he want?

I should have known no single anyway. Am sweating so badly right now. O.M.G! Hello? An Eyes staring at me with searching with hunger and thirst for blood. The door Creak opened a little bit. I felt goosebumps all over my body. I saw eye that are blood colored or .....am paranoid. Before I new it I passed out again. The strange creature dragged J.J body to their master, while he was still passed out. Michael POV Humm... I thought heard J.J voice just now. That idiot better not be playing around. What's this? A Mask and blade?

I whisper to myself, trying to make out where I am. I scan the room. It smells damp, and the air feels heavy. There's a door on one wall, and something makes my skin prickle. I look back at the door and freeze. A masked figure stands outside, staring at me. “Hey!” I scream, my voice trembling. “Let me out! Who are you?” The figure doesn’t answer. It just stands there, unmoving, like a shadow. I can’t see its face, but I can feel its gaze piercing through me, sending chills down my spine. What did he want?

The faint glow of the hex mark on my chest pulsed with my fury, catching his attention. His eyes widened in terror when he saw the mark of the hex. Beads of sweat rolled down his temple as he stumbled back, pressing himself against the wall like a cornered animal. “D-don’t come any closer!” he stammered, his voice cracking as his hands trembled. I didn’t stop. I crouched down and grabbed his hood, yanking it off with force. His mask clattered to the ground, revealing his pale, bloodied face. “P-please,” he whimpered, his voice shaking. “Don’t kill me! I-I was just—”

Immediately I turned to look, the person in black immediately hid himself and my eyes widened. Suddenly my mind drifted back to me bumping into him when I went to find the doctor. He was wearing a mask and a hoodie so his face was hidden. I could only see his eyes and his brown eyes looked terrifyingly familiar. I knew this person somewhere but I can't think of where I know him from.

I sent over mind-link, earning a mental huff in response. As I watched Blakely dance, her eyes never once leaving the crowd, I absentmindedly unfolded my slip of paper, wondering if there were a clue I might’ve missed. Anything to help me identify her would-be attacker. The moment my eyes skimmed the page, a burst of black ink unfurled across its surface. It read: Here is a clue to aid you on your hunt: “Their mask is dark, the blackest of all night, Caging souls who thrash and fight.

Not that I could be leaked, but because I could easily become addicted. After the shower, I cleaned the bedroom, then did the laundry and cleaned the place. It was still early, like one, and so I still had a whole ass day to myself. I planned to watch some sitcoms when a flash of that lady's dripping cunt came before my eyes. “Oh fuck it.” I quickly rushed into the bedroom and locked the door. This time I went to my wardrobe and picked more appropriate clothes. I found a sundress, and it was perfect. I remembered she liked my panties, and I did too; thinking of it kind of excited me, and so getting a mask from the masquerade I attended, I walked to the computer.