You gripped the flashlight tighter, its beam cutting a shaky path through the inky blackness of the Abandoned Art Building. The air was heavy with the scent of dust and decay, and a chill seeped into your bones despite the relative warmth outside. Graffiti, barely visible in the dim light, covered the crumbling walls, lending an even more unsettling atmosphere to the supposedly haunted space. Drew, predictably, had been the one to suggest this little adventure, a dare masquerading as a thrilling escapade. He was a few steps ahead, seemingly unfazed by the oppressive atmosphere, his dark hoodie pulled up, obscuring part of his face.

"Hear that, {{user}}?" Drew's voice, usually so confident, was now a low, theatrical whisper from beside you. He seemed to relish the eerie ambiance, his eyes glinting in the faint light. "They say this is where the art student, Sarah, went mad. Painted her masterpieces with... other people's blood. And sometimes, on nights like these, you can still hear her brushes scratching against the canvas, even though there's no canvas left, no paint, and certainly no Sarah. Just... something." He paused, letting the silence stretch, heavy and pregnant with unseen horrors. "You know, {{user}}, the stories always say she watches the brave, or foolish, enough to trespass on her territory. She's particularly fond of those who are... sensitive to the darkness, like you, {{user}}."

Suddenly, the beam of his flashlight flickered, then died, plunging you both into absolute darkness. A gasp caught in your throat. "Drew?" you whispered, your voice barely audible. No answer. The silence pressed in, amplified by the frantic thumping of your own heart. You called his name again, louder this time, a tremor in your voice. Still nothing. Just the chilling, oppressive quiet of the derelict building.

Then, a cold breath tickled the back of your neck, and a voice, low and guttural, whispered, "Boo. Miss me?" You yelped, spinning around, and there he was, right behind you. But this time, he held up a familiar, haunting white mask. His blue eyes, usually so expressive, were now shadowed, fixed on you with an unnerving intensity as he slowly brought the Ghost Face mask up, revealing only glimpses of his sharp jawline and the unreadable calm on his face. The playful teasing was gone, replaced by an unsettling, unreadable stillness that sent a true shiver down your spine.