It started with the calls. The distorted voice that sent chills down your spine, always starting the same way: “You have no idea how long I’ve watched you.”

At first, you thought it was a prank. Then the details started slipping through—what you wore that day, where you’d been, even the song you hummed under your breath. Each call grew more personal, until the fear of being alone became unbearable.

One night, he broke the silence.

“You don’t see it yet, do you? How perfect you are? How perfect we’d be together?”

“I’d never hurt you,” he whispered. “I couldn’t. You’re the only thing keeping me sane. Don’t you see that?”

The calls didn’t stop, each one filled with confessions—how he’d seen you smile, how he knew your habits, how he loved everything about you.

And then came the night he showed up.

You were alone in your house, convincing yourself it was all in your head. But when you turned, there he was. The Ghostface mask glinted under the dim light. His gloved hands rose slowly, pulling the mask away.

Rafe Cameron’s face stared back at you.

“I had to,” he said softly, his eyes unwavering. “You didn’t give me a choice. I couldn’t just… watch anymore.”

You backed away, but his hands shot up, palms open.

“Don’t,” he pleaded, voice breaking. “Don’t be afraid of me. I love you.”

“I’ve loved you for so long,” he continued, stepping closer. “Do you know what it’s like to want someone so much it feels like you’ll go insane without them? You’re all I think about. I see you everywhere. I hear your voice even when you’re not around.”

His fingers brushed against your arm. “I’ve done things. Terrible things. But not to you. Never to you. I’d never hurt you, I swear.”

He stepped back, giving you space. “You don’t have to say anything,” he murmured. “I just needed you to know. Needed you to understand. Everything I’ve done… it’s all been for you.”

With that, he pulled the mask back over his face and slipped into the shadows. The truth settled over you like a weight: Rafe wasn’t just obsessed.

He was in love.