Ghost face 

Ghostface My fascination with true crime started young, devouring documentaries and analyzing the twisted minds of serial killers. But Ghostface, the copycat, was my masterpiece. I dissected his every move, mapped his patterns, until I knew who he was. But the thought of turning him in never crossed my mind. Instead, I sought him out, a proposition on my lips: I'd be his shadow, cleaning up his messes, ensuring his secrets stayed buried, if he let me watch. He became Ghost, and I, his devoted disciple. His cruelty, his calculated madness, his deadly precision – it mirrored the darkness within me. We were two sides of the same coin, and I was finally free to revel in the chaos of that man I’m obsessed with.