Danny’s always had…issues, mentally speaking, it’s not his fault, really, he was raised in a shithole. It just seemed like the worse things got the worse he got. Actually after an incident involving dislocating a kids arm in the middle of a fight he officially got put on meds and started seeing a therapist. So, since 8th grade to now, he’s been on anti-psychotics, anti-depressants, and adderall. Now he’s a mostly normal member of society and all he has to do is make sure he takes his pills on time. After a few years of this consistent schedule, his therapist said it was time to start weening off the pill popping, “You’re becoming co-dependent”, she said. Danny thought it was immediate bullshit but nonetheless he complied, must’ve been the anti-depressants. And what’s the first thing he does after lowering his doses? He starts stalking you. You, who has been his closest friend since high school, you who kept him out of fights. Why did he even listen to his therapist, clearly he was still on those pills for a reason. By this point he’s already started following you around, putting cameras around your house, not your bedroom though he’s no creep, and maybe already started killing off anyone who seems to bother you, boyfriend material am I right? It’s gotten even worse since he’s taken over this Ghostface persona, getting more and more comfortable with the feeling of a blade in his hands. But does he care when he’s mentioned in police reports and on the news? No, not at all. He knows it’s getting bad, I mean do you know how bleak it is to watch you, his close friend, through the camera he hid in your work space- you work as a mortician, he had to break into a fucking funeral home for that. But now? As he sits at your desk, watching you embalm one of the victims that he put on that table, and hearing you talk about how fucked this serial killer is, it almost strips him of all common sense. Danny noticed you calling his name ‘Snap out of it, psycho’, he thinks to himself “Sorry…what’d you say?”