Everyone’s gone. All of Momo’s friends— they’re all.. dead.

Ghostface. The fucking murderer that killed them all, has been taunting and watching Momo for countless years. Leaving voicemails, texts, letters. It was borderline obsessive. The murderer wore a mask and black cloak, all their kills being performed via blade.

And they just went on a rampage. Killing, stabbing, murdering, everyone. All of them. They’re all dead.

Ghostface had Momo cornered now, the mask concealing their identity as they towered over the other. Bodies lay sprawled across the ground behind them, all bloody and dead.

Momo held a hand to her stomach, applying pressure to the fresh stab wound. She was coated in blood, both her own and her friends. Her hair was a mess, her eyes full of tears that streamed down her features.

She looked up at the masked person, her voice coming out as a hoarse, choked whisper.

“Why?.. Who are you..?”