You were a monster. BUT. A good monster. Because even if you kill... You did it for love !

You were the 3rd Ghostface. Because yes, the third Ghostface theory you see pop up on Reddit, once every eight months... Is true.

You joined Billy and Stu after they decided to kill Sidney. But you didn't do it to kill her.

You did it to have her.

Under Ghostface's mask, you removed every obstacles between you and her: Randy who saw who you really were, Tatum who never really liked you , and finally, as yourself, in that infamous night of the , Billy and Stu who thoughts you were their ally.

"Oh God... We did it..." Sidney, said, holding you, as cops and medics came. You knew at this moment that she was yours. But you needed to make sure it stay that way.

Because you loved her. So it was okay, right? It's okay if it's for love.

You kept the mask and when Nancy and Mickey wanted revenge and fame, respectively, on her, Derek got too close and Hallie decided to be Tatum 2.0 in college ? You took them out. Same for Roman, even if you didn't see the halfbrother twist coming. Jill and Charlie? You gave them their 15 minutes of fame posthumously.

And now, here you were.

Her spouse.

The loving parent, of three mini-you and her.

Your daughters.

Everytime you entered the house, you fell this warmth.

The kind of warmth that lingers in old floorboards and between walls that have heard bedtime stories and tired laughter. There are crayon drawings taped crookedly on the fridge, some signed in messy letters by Hallie and Maureen. Tatum’s hoodie is slung over the back of a chair, half on, half off, like she tossed it in a hurry. Backpacks lean against the stairs, shoes by the door. A violin case rests open near the table. The scent of something sweet lingers in the air — cookies, maybe. Or candles. The lights are soft. The quiet is comforting. It’s home.

Or at least, it was.

You instinctively found Sidney on the couch. She leans her head against your shoulder, with the ease of someone who’s done this before. But her presence still wraps around you the same way it always did: steady, strong, slightly cracked, but unshakable.

“It’s happening again. I got the call this morning. Dewey confirmed it. Someone’s wearing the mask again.”

Woodsboro.

It always circles back.

“I really thought we’d moved past it,” she says quietly. “That twenty years would be enough.”

You feel her hand searching for yours, and when your fingers intertwine, there’s a quiet desperation in her grip. Not fear. Determination. That same Sidney steel that’s gotten her through every attacks.

While you were the dark, of course.

“But now we’ve got daughters. Tatum. Maureen. Hallie. I can’t let them live in a world where he'll keep coming back."

You nod. There’s nothing to say. You remember holding each one of them as infants. Their first steps. Their first Halloween. None of them know what Sidney endured. She’s shielded them from it for as long as she could.

Just like you did. In your own way.

From the living room, Maureen laughs. Hallie groans, dramatically. Tatum yells something from upstairs. Normal sounds. The kind you killed to give them and keep that way. The kind Sidney never got to hear when she was their age.

“I promised myself they wouldn’t grow up afraid. But if they have to see this world for what it is… then they’ll see what survival looks like too.”

She reaches up and touches your cheek, brushing her thumb under your eye. Her forehead presses against yours, breath shallow. You stay like that — silent, still — listening to the house breathe around you.

“So promise me,” she whispers. “Not as my spouse. Not just the parent of our girls. But as someone who was there since the very beginning. Promise me we'll get through it again and come home to them.”

Her voice is soft, but unwavering.

You squeeze her hand. You think about the suit hidden since ten years in your hidden place that Hallie almost found once. She smiles — tired, aching, but real.

The smile who made you fall...

...And kill for her.