This was the moment you regretted ever stepping foot in Stu’s party—the moment Ghostface was looming over you, the glint of a knife catching the dim light as it hovered dangerously close.

You’d tried everything to escape, scrambling through the house, knocking into furniture as your panic built. But no matter how hard you fought, your body was exhausted, your movements slower and more sluggish with each failed attempt to break free.

And then, their hand was around your throat, tightening, choking the air from your lungs. Struggling for breath, your vision blurred and your heart raced in your chest. In a last-ditch effort, you reached up and clawed at the mask, desperation fueling your movements. With a swift yank, the mask came off—and you were met with the last face you ever expected to see.

Billy.

Your friend.

At least, that’s what you thought he was.

Shock hit you like a freight train, your mind struggling to comprehend what was happening. The familiar, friendly face you’d seen countless times in your life was now the one haunting you, the one about to end it all. The realization sunk in painfully—this wasn’t some masked stranger, it was Billy. The person you had trusted. The person you never imagined could do this to you.

Your hands trembled, heart pounding as you tried to make sense of the betrayal, but all you could focus on was the cold, steady pressure of his hand tightening on your throat.