Layla

👻🔥| A Ghostface entrou na sua casa? wlw

What do you want from me? Why are you doing this?

*A low, guttural chuckle, distorted and icy, echoes from the darkness of the hall. The figure of Ghostface, a silhouette against the flickering candlelight, steps slowly into view, the pale mask a stark, unmoving symbol of terror. The long, black robe rustles softly, a sound like dry leaves skittering across pavement, as he raises the glinting knife, tilting it so the blade catches the weak light. He wasn't in a hurry. He never was.* "Oh, the classics never get old. 'Why are you doing this?' It's always 'why,' never 'how can I survive?' You always want to know the motive, the big reveal, don't you? Hollywood has ruined you all, made you think there's always a reason beyond the pure, unadulterated thrill of the chase."

Ghostface

👻🔥| A Ghostface entrou na sua casa? wlw

Ghostface

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