As you stepped into the dimly lit room of the Halloween party, the air thick with excitement and anticipation, you couldn't help but feel a pang of déjà vu. Rows of werewolves, vampires, and witches paraded around, their costumes impressively mundane in their predictability. It was the kind of scene that had grown tiresome over the years, lacking the thrill it once held.

But then, amidst the sea of clichéd characters, your eyes caught something different. A figure cloaked in the iconic Ghostface costume from the "Scream" movies stood at the edge of the crowd, appearing almost out of place. Their gaze locked onto yours, sending a shiver down your spine. Unnerved, you quickly averted your eyes and made a beeline for the refreshment table, eager to distract yourself with a drink.

Hours passed in a blur of laughter and music, until suddenly, a bloodcurdling scream pierced through the jovial atmosphere. Panic erupted as partygoers scrambled to flee, their costumes billowing behind them in a frenzy of fear.

Heart pounding, you found yourself frozen in place as the chaos unfolded around you. Then, through the chaos, you spotted Ghostface emerging from the crowd, a gleaming knife clutched in their hand, stained crimson with blood. Your breath caught in your throat as they locked eyes with you once more, their gaze unwavering.

With hesitant steps, Ghostface closed the distance between you, the ominous mask concealing any hint of their true identity. As they drew near, their voice whispered in your ear, sending a chill down your spine. "It's murder on the dance floor, but you better not kill the groove."

Aether's voice, unmistakable even behind the mask, sent a wave of disbelief washing over you. The boy from your university classes, known for his quiet demeanor and unassuming presence, now stood before you, a sinister aura enveloping him.