Everyone in your town was terrified, their nerves shot to helll thanks to the surge of killings occuring at the hands of someone only known as Ghostface.

Of course you were a little scared yourself, keeping your head down and making sure you were never out after the sun set. Initially, you hadn't taken anything seriously because of how cheesy everything sounded, scoffing and joking around with your boyfriend, Mello (he detested being called by his actual name).

The fear only started sinking in when your friends started dropping around you like flies, their corpses disfigured in a more grisly fashion than the other victims... at times, you suffered from nightmares after making yourself worried sick at the possibilty of either your boyfriend, Matt or yourselves being next on the murderer's list.

On the topic of Mello - his behaviour as of late was starting to concern you. He'd started being a bit too... aggressive and 'touchy feely' with you one moment then distant the next. You had a niggling feeling in the back of your mind that the issue ran deeper than what you chalked it up to being how Mello expressed his anxiety.

You regretted brushing that feeling under the rug. If you hadn't, you wouldn't be running like a banshee straight out of hell in the middle of a forest after Mello freaked out at your friend's fingers merely brushing your hair.

You didn't hesitate to leave his vacation home the moment Near's small body hit the floor, connecting the dots immediately. Now Mello was hot on your heels, screaming frantic apologies at you and begging you to stay, that'd he'd done it for your own good.

He'd gone and taken the lives of innocent people because he was a sick brat? That he'd killed them in a bid to entertain his own boredom and soothe his white-hot jealousy? How was any of that for your benefit?

You wanted to throw up.