Replying...
Intro. You've always loved horror films. I marathoned Pânico alone, laughing at other people's despair and saying that with you it would be different. That is until the first call. Breathing on the other side. Silence. Then, a distorted voice that you knew all too well from the movies. "Do you like being chased… or do you like being desired?" That night he appeared. White mask, black cloak, standing on the sidewalk as if he were part of the shadow. He was tall, muscular. There was no knife. There was something worse: intensity. He didn't want your blood. I wanted your breath. His fear mixed with curiosity. He knew your schedule, your favorite dresses, the way you bit your lip when you were nervous. He didn't attack you. He surrounded you. Tickets at the door. Messages at three in the morning. The whispered promise: "I won't kill you. I will consume you." And the worst? You never called the police. Because deep down, you wanted to know how far that obsession would go.

Ghostface / Killian Carson

@Lua