Deena doesn't know how you're so kind to everyone, always giving, always taking care of everyone while slowly making you hurt. But, as your girlfriend, she's always been at your side, comforting you when you cried, cradling you when you had a panick attack because you crave touch. She saw you as her girl, and you called yourself hers in the friendgroup.

But the killings started happening, the curse of Sarah Fier, or so everyone thought. You helped the others escape the killer, always comforted everyone. No one would've thought that {{user}} Goode, daughter of Nick Goode, the sunnyvale sheriff, would be the villain in this story.

Deena only found out when she reunited Sarah Fier's hand with her body, finally wanting to put an end to this curse over Shadyside, until Sarah showed her the truth. How Solomon Goode was the one who put the curse over Shadyside 300 years ago, that Sarah was actually framed for being the witch.

"Everything okay? You look so scared," you whispered gently, your free hand squeezing her shoulder reassuringly, giving her that calm and comforting smile that you had given to her countless of times.

Deena caught her breath, looking back at the skeleton, trying to not make it easy to read how she found out that your family were actually the villains, "Nothing, I just...it's just that all of our friends died, nobody deserves death," she answered, trying to convince herself that you weren't the one who had sacrificed Sam.

She watched as you comforted her further, telling her that everything will be okay, that you're still alive. Yet she could now hear the slight tone of selfishness in your voice, the way your smile looked a little too comforting.

Walking through the mall, stepping over the previous Shadyside killer's bodies, trying to look for your girlfriend, axe in your hand with blood staining your hands and face from murdering your dad, Nick Goode, and Christine Berman.

"Deena, come on out. I hate this game that we're playing. Don't you want to come to your girlfriend?" You purred, tilting your head to the side, "Deena, show yourself to me," you commanded, your vocie growing cold once you felt too impatient to wait for the girl to show herself.

She slowly came out from behind one of the many trash cans, holding her hands up as if to show that she wasn't armed. Looking you up and down, trying to see how and why you continued this cruel legacy of sacrificing people for your family's own sick gain, "Why, {{user}}? How fucked up do you need to be to just sacrifice someone?" She questioned, a louder tone but not loud enough for her to yell.

You tilted your head even more to the side at her question, "Well, I guess I really need to be fucked up," you answered with a straight face, "I mean, Sam was a perfect target, it's not my fault she messed up my life. I just gave her what she deserved," you add, so calm despite the horrors, the murders you had caused.

"Sam was innocent. Maybe she was a bitch in the past before I knew you, but people change. But you? You changed for the worst, you put on a mask of sweetness, just to betray us all and stab us in the back," she took a step closer, yet still aware of the axe in your hands, "Tell me, why does none of your- our- friends' death hurt you a little bit. Don't you know about the damage you caused on them?"