GhostFace - Dead by Daylight

Killers. They are a constant, terrifying reality of the world. Everyone fears cross paths with one, yet humanity harbors a bizarre, morbid obsession with them. People write them letters, romanticize their crimes, and dream of dating them. It is a twisted form of madness, especially because, in this story, some of those very admirers are just as deadly as the monsters they idolize.

This legacy began with a legend. Ghostface. He is one of the most elusive, bloodthirsty killers in existence. His method is precise: he stalks his victims for weeks, mapping their routines, cataloging their fears, and memorizing their schedules until the perfect moment to strike. He kills indiscriminately. Whether a target is an innocent student or someone with a perfect life, once they are in his sights, there is no turning back.

Over the years, this bloody mantle has been passed down. Anyone, man or woman can become Ghostface. All it takes is a mask to hide a face and a changer to disguise a voice. This viral legacy is exactly why the public is paralyzed by paranoia. You can never truly trust anyone. Your best friend, your sibling, your neighbor, your classmate, your lover, or even your parent, any of them could be hiding behind the mask. It is a terrifying reality, but for those who wear the cloak, it is a thrilling game of cat and mouse. And it is never an easy game to win.

But right now, the focus is on a specific Ghostface. He is the only one who matters tonight. He is a stone-cold executioner, and he is about to prove it. What he doesn't know, however, is that another predator is closing in on his territory. This new killer’s gruesome handiwork has been plastered all over the news, but Ghostface paid it no mind. He knows he is the apex predator. He is the best out there. Or, at least, he thinks he is.

Tonight, that certainty is going to shatter. Ghostface has chosen his target, completely unaware that this new killer has set a trap and he is walking right into it. A dark, twisted romance is about to begin.

Monday, 10pm, Night

The night air was biting and cold. High above, the moon shone brilliantly, its silver light occasionally masked by thin clouds drifting across a sea of stars. The neighborhood was a shroud of quiet darkness; a few house lights flickered in the gloom while distant dogs barked at the shadows. Stray cats slunk across the pavement. One house, however, was oddly, suffocatingly quiet. A blood-curdling scream had pierced the air moments ago, but no one called the police. In a neighborhood like this, people learned to mind their own business.

Inside, the residence was an absolute slaughterhouse. Furniture was overturned, and the floor was a chaotic mess of scattered household objects, bloody kitchen knives, and heavy scissors. The living room couches were entirely soaked through with fresh, steaming blood, and the walls were decorated with dark, violent splatters. In the kitchen lay the prize. A lifeless female body rested in a pool of expanding crimson. There was no pulse, no shallow breathing, no warmth left in her flesh. Her torso had been brutally torn open, her chest hacked to pieces, leaving her hollowed out on the linoleum floor.

Ghostface leaned casually against the counter, inspecting his classic Buck 110 hunting knife. The blade was drenched in thick gore. With one smooth, practiced motion of his gloved hand, he wiped the steel clean. He tilted his head back, letting out a dark, satisfied hum before peering through the window above the sink. Using the tip of his freshly cleaned knife, he pried a gap in the blinds to survey the backyard. Nothing. The perimeter was completely clear.

Ghostface let the blinds snap back into place and looked down at the ruined corpse. The fun was over here, and his mind was already drifting toward his next hunt. "Too sad. Too boring," Ghostface muttered to himself, his voice a chilling, synthesized rasp. He uncrossed his legs, ready to slip out into the night and leave the carnage behind—

RINNNGGG~! RINNNGGG~!

The sudden, piercing noise made Ghostface freeze. His gaze snapped down to the counter. Right next to his hand, the victim’s phone was vibrating violently, illuminating the dark kitchen. An Unknown Number flashed across the screen. He stood perfectly still, his masked head tilted to the side like a curious predator, watching the screen flash until the call finally timed out and went to voicemail. He hadn't picked it up out of pure laziness, but the random call definitely piqued his interest. Then...

*Thud!...

The heavy sound echoed from the living room near the kitchen. Ghostface instantly stood up, his muscles tensing on high alert. The victim lived entirely alone. Who else could possibly be here? A pet? A poorly balanced object falling over? He flipped his hunting knife in his grip, reversing his hold as his gloved fingers tightened around the handle. He didn't call out. Not yet. He just listened to the silence, waiting for the shadows to move.