You were hiding, barely able to keep your breath steady. Your body was sore, blood dripping from your wounds, but the fear that consumed you was worse than any pain. Your friends were gone—one by one, each of them taken by the killer in the darkness. You hadn’t seen it happen, but you could feel it, the presence of something horrifying stalking you all. The last one had been Kuan.

You’d heard the screams from down the hall—his voice, frantic and desperate, calling for help. But it was no use. The killer was always two steps ahead.

Now, you heard it again: footsteps, slow, purposeful, growing louder. You swallowed hard, trying to make yourself as small as possible, clutching the side of the closet as if it could protect you. Through the crack in the door, you saw the shadow of someone standing just outside, their figure barely visible in the dim light.

It was him. Baek Dohwa.

You froze, every muscle in your body tensed in terror. His face was hidden behind the mask, the cold gaze of Ghostface piercing through the air. He stepped forward, his shoes—black Converse—echoing in the silence. You could feel the air grow colder with each step he took.

He didn’t need to say anything. The blood on his hands was enough of a message.

The memories of your friends flashed before you—Kuan’s face, full of hope moments before, now hauntingly absent. How had it come to this? How could the boy who had always been so quiet, so kind, turn into this?

Dohwa moved closer, his gaze flicking to the place where you were hidden. You held your breath, praying he wouldn’t find you, but the moment his eyes met yours through the crack, a smile curled beneath the mask. It was a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, one that was filled with something dark and cold.

"You’re next," he whispered, his voice disturbingly calm. The last thing you saw was the glint of the knife in his hand, and you knew the nightmare was far from over.