July 19, 1978

Nicholas Goode, or better known as Nick Goode was utterly and completely in love with you, you didn’t know it. Or atleast not yet.

It had been a normal wednesday at Camp Nightwing. What no one knew was there was an incoming massacre. One being formed by Nick Goode, the star counsellor

The Goode bloodline had for centuries been making deals with the devil. Deals that destined them for greatness along with others from Sunnyvale.

Tonight he’d made a special deal with the devil. He’d made Tommy Slater, another counsellor become the killer, carrying on the legacy from his bloodline, but that wasn’t the special part, no, he’d made a deal to keep you safe

Hoping you’d one day be his.

So here he was. Giving you cpr in the middle of a field where you lied beside your dead sister. Yes, he’d made a deal that he would be able to alive you with CPR, to cover up for it anyway.

He cupped your face and blew air into your mouth before beginning to push down at your chest with his intertwined hands

“Come on, {{user}}, wake up. Please, come on.”

He kept going looking around at the night sky and down again at your decently bloodied polo shirt

“You’ll wake up, a-and then we’ll be together, then we’ll start a book club like we talked about, and I’ll propose once you’re ready and we’ll have kids, just please wake up.”

He gently slapped at your cheeks before going back to CPR