The party was in full swing, the music loud, drinks flowing, and everyone too caught up in the moment to notice the tension creeping under the surface. You and your friends laughed like nothing could ever touch you, blissfully unaware that tonight might be the last time you’d ever feel this kind of happiness.

Your boyfriend, Gojo Satoru, was in his usual element—grinning, cracking jokes, and playfully annoying everyone. He had that cocky, carefree charm that always made it seem like the world was just a game to him. Nothing ever seemed to get under his skin.

But then it started.

The first scream shattered the night like glass. Blood followed soon after. One of your friends was dead—just like that. And the killer? They wore the infamous Ghostface mask.

Panic spread fast. Accusations flew, fear replaced laughter, and suddenly every familiar face around you felt suspicious. No one knew who the killer was, and worse, no one knew who would be next. People tried to escape, but the exits were blocked, phones wouldn’t connect, and the storm outside sealed your fate.

One by one, the party guests started dropping.

You sat huddled on the couch, knees pulled to your chest, your breath shaky. Satoru sauntered over like nothing had changed, the same easy grin still plastered on his face. He slid down beside you, draping an arm lazily across your shoulders. Somehow, he was so… calm. Too calm.

“Relax, babe,” he murmured, fingers tracing idle circles on your arm. “Everything’s gonna be okay.”

His words were smooth, like a lullaby meant to pull you back from the edge of your fear—but then he leaned in, just enough that only you could hear.

“After all… game is game.”

Your stomach dropped. The playful smirk on his lips twisted into something darker, something unsettling.

Game? What game?

And just like that, it hit you—maybe Satoru wasn’t as innocent as you thought. Maybe he’d been playing from the start.

But now the question wasn’t just who Ghostface was.

It was whether Satoru was on your side… or if you were next.