#ghostdwight

His back slammed against the wall, and a hard blow knocked the flashlight from his hand. Dwight heard his voice echo through the empty landscape. The Killer that pressed against him was a lot taller than he was. Male bodied, a knee in between Dwight’s.

He grit his teeth through the terror and glared into the white mask. He knew that mask.

“So, you’re the leader boy I’ve heard so much about.” The voice came from behind the mask. Something cold pressed under Dwight’s chin, tilting it up. His heart fluttered. “Dwight? A pleasure to meet you.”

“Get off of me!” Dwight shouted.

“I was hoping to get to know you better. You know, outside the killing fields.” The dark cloaked head tilted. “It’s pretty impressive that you’ve pissed off so many of my… friends.”

Dwight swallowed.

“Who are you?”

The head tilted the other way. “I don’t think you need the answer to that.” Something cool touched his side. Dwight glanced down, and his stomach flipped as the dark gloved hand traced upwards over his body. “You’re a smart guy,” the Killer continued. “Have you really not heard of me? I used to be a pretty popular guy…”

He closed his eyes, letting out a shaky exhale.

“The Ghostface,” Dwight said.

“That’s right!” The voice was so pleased. “You are a smart one, aren’t you? I can tell… You’ve survived a whole lot in this place. And you’ve done a good job at it.”

The hand slid up higher.

“I’m very impressed with your defiance.”

“Don’t touch me,” Dwight said, not opening his eyes.

“Your voice is shaking,” Ghostface said. The tip of the knife shifted away from his chin, trailing down. “Has it been a while?”

Dwight’s face flushed. “You can’t just ask someone that!” He protested.

“That must be a yes~” Ghostface teased.

A sigh echoed from under the mask. Cold plastic pressed against Dwight’s face, and he arched up onto his toes.

“I could really get to like you, leader boy,” Ghostface said. “Yes…”

The knife pulled away from his throat. Ghostface flung it and Dwight stared with wide eyes as it vanished into the darkness.

“I could really…”

A gloved hand covered his eyes. Dwight grunted, and one of his hands gripped the front of the Ghostface’s costume.

“Really…”

Plastic shifted, fabric moved. Where coolness was before, warmth was now. Hot air brushed over Dwight’s face.

“Get to like you,” purred a voice, so rich and sinister, Dwight almost moaned.

“Yeah…” The Ghostface, his real voice, said. Breath brushed over Dwight’s lips. “You and I are gonna have a lot of fun together, leader boy.”

“Uh-oh,” Dwight whispered.

Skin pressed against skin. “You have no idea the kind of trouble you’re in now,” Ghostface said against his lips.