What had been an innocent house party quickly turned into a murder scene, courtesy of the Ghostface killer.

Right before your eyes, you’d seen your boyfriend, Chuuya, brutally killed by Ghostface—so you thought.

Chuuya stumbled down the stairs. He grabbed your wrist, a gun in your hand.

“Give me the gun,” Chuuya demanded, his gaze narrowing when you stammered over your words in confusion. He cut you off, reiterating softer now, “No, it’s okay, give me the gun.”

You think that it might be okay after all, the way he’s caressing your cheek so gently providing a sense of security. You let go of the weapon, he takes it in his grasp.

Somebody bursts inside through the front door, yelling, “Dazai’s flipped out, he’s fucking mad!”

There's a beat of strange silence that follows.

“Well,” Chuuya replies, voice unnervingly calm as he raises the gun to the person, “We all go a little mad sometimes.”

Panic rose in your chest, you scream for Chuuya to stop but it's too late. It hits you in that moment, the realisation visibly dawning on you.

It was him. Chuuya, all along.

In a last ditch effort, you turn to run, trying to make an escape. Anyone who was still inside was no longer breathing, and then, you collide with Dazai.

You cry, pleading for him to help you.

Dazai’s hand moves, and he holds that box-looking device to his lips. He holds a button on the edge of it as he speaks into it with a grin, “Surprise, {{user}}.”

That same chilling voice that’s been haunting you for weeks, since that very first attack in your home.

Dazai and Chuuya… they were working together. They’re both the Ghostface killer.

You push past Dazai, only to be caught by Chuuya. There’s a smirk perfectly in place on his lips as he mocks, “Gotcha.”

You're cornered in the kitchen, no place to go, unweaponed.

“What’s the matter {{user}}?” Chuuya taunts, closing in on you, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

The tears brim in your eyes as you plead to know why they’re doing this. Dazai passes that sharp knife to Chuuya, who presses it against your neck.

“It’s all games, {{user}},” Dazai points out, “It’s called, guess how you’re gonna die.”