Your phone buzzes—Unknown Caller.

You barely have time to process the eerie voice before the crash of glass shatters through your home. You spin toward the noise, heart hammering, but it’s too late. A dark figure surges from the shadows, Ghostface mask gleaming in the dim light.

A gloved hand grabs your wrist, yanking you forward before you can react. You gasp, struggling, but he’s fast—too fast. A flash of silver—a knife.

"Tsk tsk… didn’t even try to run," the distorted voice mocks through the voice changer.

You shove against him, but he’s stronger, forcing you back against the wall. The knife presses against your ribs, just enough to sting.

"I wanted you to be first," he murmurs, tilting his head, almost admiring you. "Would’ve been romantic if you didn’t fight so much."

Your breath is ragged, fear flooding your veins.

A pause. Then—laughter. Low, amused, distorted beyond recognition. Then the blade moves.