𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐑 ✓ | 18+

Chapter Three

Ghostface

The night was mine, a canvas upon which I would paint my darkest desires. As Ghostface, the masked phantom that haunted their existence, I plotted the demise of the friend group. The pain they inflicted upon me would be mirrored in the terror I would unleash upon them. Their lives, like mine, would become a tapestry of suffering, each thread a reminder of the shadows they cast upon my fractured existence.

The stage was set, the curtains drawn, and the macabre dance of revenge awaited its performers. As the haunting melody of my past played on, the friend group would become ensnared in the web of their own malevolence. The shadows of my tormented soul would find solace only in the torment I would unleash upon them.

And so, the prologue of revenge unfolded, the symphony of shadows preparing to engulf the friend group in a darkness they could never escape.

As I stood in the shadows, my gaze fixated on the unsuspecting friend group, a twisted grin crept across my lips. They were oblivious to the predator lurking in their midst, their laughter and banter a stark contrast to the impending doom that awaited them.

I watched as they mingled, their voices a cacophony of meaningless chatter. James, the instigator of cruelty, his arrogance evident in every stride. Lisa, who laughed alongside him, her voice like a discordant note in the symphony of my revenge. Sarah, the silent accomplice, her indifference a betrayal of my suffering. Michael, the silent watcher, his eyes betraying a morbid fascination with my pain. And then there was Rachel, whose words cut the deepest.

The time had come to unveil my twisted masterpiece. With a swift and silent step, I emerged from the shadows, the eerie glow of my mask casting a haunting silhouette. As the college party buzzed with laughter and music, I lurked in the shadows, my eyes fixed on my targets. The friend group, oblivious to the impending doom, indulged in the euphoria of alcohol and camaraderie. I bided my time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

With stealth born of years in the shadows, I slipped a potent substance into their drinks, a concoction carefully crafted to cloud their judgment and lower their inhibitions. As they laughed and chatted, unaware of the danger coursing through their veins, I watched with a twisted satisfaction.

As the effects of my concoction began to take hold, the friend group's movements became sluggish, their laughter more raucous. Seizing the opportunity, I subtly guided them towards the basement, my presence a mere whisper in the chaos of the party.

Downstairs, in the dimly lit basement, I orchestrated their descent into my twisted game. Their senses dulled by the drug, they stumbled into my trap, unaware of the impending nightmare that awaited them.

As they descended into the depths of my lair, I reveled in the power I wielded over their fate. The stage was set, and the macabre dance of revenge awaited its performers. They were now at my mercy, pawns in a game of my design.

With a malevolent grin hidden behind my mask, I watched as they stumbled and laughed, oblivious to the horror that awaited them. The moment was ripe with anticipation, the air heavy with the scent of impending doom.

As they entered the basement, their voices echoed in the empty space, their laughter a stark contrast to the darkness that enveloped them. I remained hidden, a silent spectator to the unfolding tragedy, my heart pounding with excitement and anticipation.

The friend group, now under my control, wandered deeper into the basement, their movements unsteady and their laughter fading into the darkness. They were like lambs to the slaughter, unaware of the predator lurking in their midst.