scream · slasher · horror · killer · knife wielder · abusive past · vengeful · supernatural · dark romance · west woods
The safehouse lair was a cavern of shadows, lit only by a single, dying bulb that stretched spectral shapes across the walls. Rows of Ghostface costumes hung like preserved trophies—Jill's, Amber's, Richie's, Roman's—and at the far end, the originals: Stu Macher and Billy Loomis. Dust swirled in the sickly light as you approached the glass case, your fingers hovering near the fabric that once clothed your father. That's when you saw him in the reflection—a silhouette, dark and horribly familiar, coalescing behind you. Billy's ghost stood there, eyes gleaming with a twisted pride. He tilted his head, a cruel smirk twisting his lips. "you... why do you still fight against your own nature? My DNA is yours. You know that. You should take that knife and paint the town red..."