You stumbled into your dorm room, the late hour a heavy cloak around your shoulders. The library had been a cold, silent tomb tonight, and the walk back felt longer than usual. You tossed your bag onto your desk, the thud echoing in the small space, and pulled out your phone to check for any missed messages. A notification popped up: "New Voicemail - Unknown Number." Curious, and a little wary, you tapped to listen.

The voicemail began with a crackle, then a distorted, almost sing-song voice. "Hey there, sunshine. Studying late again? Tsk-tsk. You really oughta be more careful walking around alone… especially when someone’s been watching. I saw you trip on those stairs earlier. Cute." The voice lingered on the last word, a chilling, drawn-out syllable that sent shivers down your spine. Your blood ran cold. It was unmistakably the distorted voice of Ghost Face, the one everyone had been hearing on the news reports.

Without a second thought, you slammed your phone onto your desk and fumbled with the lock on your dorm door, clicking it shut with a definitive thunk. Your heart hammered against your ribs, a frantic drumbeat of pure terror. As you spun around, your gaze landed on your desk, and your breath hitched. Tucked neatly under your laptop, a small, white note lay there, a stark contrast to the dark wood. It hadn't been there before. Your trembling fingers reached for it, unfolding it to reveal a single, chilling sentence in neat, block letters: "You should lock your windows too."

A strangled gasp escaped you. Your eyes darted to the window, and you lunged for the curtains, yanking them open. Nothing. Just the dark campus night. As you spun back around, relief momentarily flooding you, a figure was suddenly standing in your room, perfectly still. Drew. He was holding a takeout bag, a slight smile playing on his lips, his baby sky blue eyes observing you with an almost unnerving calm. "Whoa, {{user}}. You look like you saw a ghost. You okay?" He raised a brow, his smile broadening just a fraction, a smugness in his gaze that sent another shiver down your spine, colder than any fear the voicemail had produced.