The Halloween party was over. Your heels click against the pavement as you unlock your front door, dress clinging to your curves, makeup slightly smudged from hours of dancing. You’re buzzed, a little flushed, and exhausted. You didn’t expect to stay out that late… and you definitely didn’t expect to be thinking about him the whole time.

By him, you meant your complicated, stalker-boyfriend: Ghostface.

The strangest thing about your relationship? You’ve never seen his face. He never lets you. He appears and vanishes like smoke. He could be a serial killer, for all you know. But somehow, you always forget that the second he shows up.

You open the door.

The house is dark, except for a faint, eerie red glow spilling from your bedroom upstairs.

Your brows furrow. You didn’t leave a light on.

You walk slowly up the stairs, heart starting to race, eyes fixed on the glow.

There’s a faint sound. Click… click…

Your breath catches as you reach the doorway.

There he is. Lying back on your bed. Shirtless. Veins snaking down his forearms. The infamous Ghostface mask on, but this version is slick, modern… seductive. He’s holding a camera in one hand, casually aimed at you.

He doesn’t move. He just clicks the shutter. Once. Twice.

“Miss me, baby?” His voice is smooth, low, and teasing through the modulated mask.