June 18th, 2005
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Bob always wanted to kill you. The second you stepped into his restaurant he knew that you would be easy prey. But once he learned you were that new surgeon moving in... his plans changed. Maybe he could use your skills in the future.

He wanted to use you. For something. He wasn't quite sure what that something would be, but he knew you would be a valuable asset to him. So he won't kill you. Yet.

For now, he wanted to get as close as possible to you. Learn your routine, your habits... he wanted to know everything about you.

—————

9:30 AM

You yawned and stretched, glancing up at the ceiling. The birds chirped outside, and you rubbed your eyes.

mmm... your house was so nicely air conditioned... and that dream you had last night was nice.

Suddenly you remembered... Bob was coming over to help you unpack! AND EAT LUNCH!

You sprung up from your "bed." FUCK! you had no food. Unless you count the pretzels you bought at the gas station yesterday. But you don't count those!!!

Panicking, you stand up and quickly run out to your car to grab some new clothes. Running back inside with a t-shirt and shorts in hand, you sprint over to the shower.

Stripping as fast as you possibly could, you flung yourself into the shower and washed quickly. Oh fuck. You should not have slept in.

Rinsing the suds out of your hair, you turned off the faucet and quickly dried off with a towel.

Who cares if my hair is wet... I need to go grocery shopping!

You quickly got dressed and practically ran out the door, locking it behind you. You figured that since the grocery store is a few blocks over, you would walk there. You didn't really wanna drive there with a mattress on your car anyway.

You walk/ran to the store, making sure to look both ways while crossing the street. A few people gave you strange looks, but you didn't really care.

Finally, you made it to the entrance with time to spare. Sweating and panting, you shuffled inside. Instantly you're met with air conditioning that calms your panicking self tremendously.

Grabbing a cart, you head straight to the bread isle. You grab a thing of white bread, and some bagels for breakfast. Then you grab cream cheese, regular cheese, and meat slices. You also wanted to grab some things to bake cookies for Lila, so you head over to the bakery isle.

You're not too good at baking or cooking... so you decide to grab a package of cookie mix. That way it'll be easier not to mess up. After picking out your things, you go and pay at the front counter.

The man working is nice, and he scans your items quickly. He then take a look at your face and squints. "Hey... you're that surgeon aren't you? The one that just moved in?"

Is that all people know you for?!

You sighed and smiled. "Yeah. I just moved in yesterday."

"I heard you're gonna be helping out at the hospital! We need more people like you."

You frowned. You were not in any obligation to help out at the hospital... and you certainly didn't get hired there. Rumors about you are spreading fast.

You laughed dryly. "Um well actually I'm-"

"They're resigned." A voice says behind you. You don't even need to look to see who it is because you already know.

You turn quickly. Not realizing how close he was, you ram your face straight into Bob's chest.

Great. Now you've done it twice.

You crane your neck to look up at him, absolutely mortified. He's looking down at you with lidded eyes, and he smirks slightly as he says, "Woah there. Are you okay?"

You back up, ramming your back directly into the counter knocking off a couple displays in the process.

Jesus Christ this is so embarrassing. You want to crawl out of your skin.

You mutter and move to the side. "Yeah! Yeah I'm fine. Thank you. Thanks." Embarrassed, you quickly grab your things and receipt. "I'll just... meet you outside." You say to Bob. He nods, smiling. You awkwardly turn around and walk out of the store like a robot.

Standing outside, you shake a little. For a surgeon, your actions are incredibly unsteady.

Bob appears at your side once more. "Ain't this a weird coincidence." He says, looking down at you. "I was just coming here to get us some drinks." As he finishes his sentence, you see him hold up a bag of what looks to be juice and alcohol.

Oh wow. Okay. Now you feel like you owe him more than lunch.

Beginning your walk home, you look at him. "Oh. You didn't have to do that..." you say.

"I didn't... but I wanted to."

"...alright."

Why is he so sickly sweetly incredibly nice? It weirds you out a little bit but you don't get too attached to the thought. You want to get to know him before making any assumptions. You take this opportunity of silence to observe Bob. Today he's wearing a simple white t-shirt and a pair of jeans. He looks relaxed, and his hair is a bit messy. How he can wear a pair of jeans in this weather is a mystery to you, but you don't say anything.

Sooner than later you both arrive in front of your house. You're sweating again from the heat and humidity. Maybe you should have drove...

Bob looms behind you, watching you pull out your keys and shuffling them. You pull out a small silver key and stick it inside the door, unlocking it.

Walking in, you put your groceries on the counter and Bob does the same.

He breaks the silence. "How should I start?"

Hmm... "Maybe the mattress first? I can help you."

Bob nods and heads out the door to your car, with you following close behind.

He notices that the mattress is held down with a bunch of zip ties. Turning to you, Bob asks, "Do you have anything to cut these with?" And he gestures towards to mattress.

You nod and pull out your pocket knife. You always bring it around with you just in case you need to defend yourself. Bob's eyes widen slightly as you flick the blade open.

Oh how he wants to stab you with that knife right now. But he holds himself back.

You circle around the mattress, standing on your tippy toes to cut each zip tie.

"Can you hold it so it doesn't fall please?" You ask, getting ready to cut the last tie.

Bob agrees and puts his hands around the mattress. It slips a little, but doesn't fall.

"Okay uh... you grab the right side and I'll grab the left."

"Alright."

So, the both of you lift the mattress into your house. It's a little awkward trying to get it through the front door, but you both eventually got it.

"Let's just put it in my room. It's down the hall and to the right." You say. You both bring the mattress into your room and plop it down in the corner.

Bob wipes his hands off on his pants and asks, "Did you sleep on the floor last night?"

Your face turns red in embarrassment and you look away. "Unfortunately I decline to answer that question..." you say sheepishly.

Bob laughs. "So I'm gonna assume that's a yes." He shakes his head in exasperation. "Come on. Let's go get your other stuff."

"Yeah okay."

You both walk out into the living room.

"Why don't I take care of the rest?" Bob asks. You open your mouth to decline but he cuts you off. "You can start makin' lunch."

You pout slightly but ultimately agree. You were hungry anyways. "Okay. I'm making ham sandwiches." You smiled. "Do you want mayonnaise or mustard?"

"Both please." Bob turns to walk out but then looks back at you. "And extra meat."

You nod. "Sounds good. I'll get started."

As you preoccupy yourself with "cooking" Bob starts to retrieve your many boxes of things. Some are labeled "clothes" and "pillows + plushies" but one box however, stuck out to him.

"Memories." Bob mumbles to himself while reading the box. He quickly looks inside the house to see if you're looking.

Your back is turned. Good.

He slowly opens the box and peeks in. There's not much in there. Your framed surgeon's license, your college degree. He digs a little deeper. There's a scrapbook that's labeled, "Please forget." On it, and an envelope with your name and address on it.

Taking a peek at you, he decides to look inside the envelope. Maybe he can look through your scrapbook later.

He notices that the envelope is already opened. It looks like it's been opened and closed several times. Slipping it open, he pulls out a slightly tattered letter.

Reading it, it says,

To the recipient of insurance for damages,
(Y/N) (Y/L/N)
February 3rd, 2005
We want to inform you of your reward of insurance money from the assault charges. As of today, you are eligible for-

"Bob?"

He quickly shoves the letter back in and closes the box hastily.

You're standing at the doorway, smiling. "Lunch is ready."

Bob looks at you and smiles, picking up the box. "Good. I'm starved. This is the last box."

"Oh awesome! Thank you for helping!"

He smiles. "And thanks for making lunch!"

He walks over to the kitchen island and grabs his food. You don't exactly have chairs or a table yet, so you decide to just plop on the floor and eat. Bob does the same.

You crack open the juice he bought and pour it into a couple cups, handing him one. Chewing, Bob asks, "So how do ya like it here so far?"

You poke at your sandwich. "I mean, it's nice. It's really fucking hot... and the humidity kinda sucks but..." you look at him and he meets your gaze. "It's nice. And I'm glad I've made a friend already." You smile and say to him.

Bob is a little taken aback by this. You guys are friends? Okay. Sure. This is working out swimmingly so far. He's got you wrapped around his finger.

"And I'm glad to have met such a kind person." Bob says. "It's always good to have another friend." He really wants to strangle you right now just so he can hear you scream.

You giggle. "Yeah, it is." You point at the bottle of wine he bought at the store. It's 2 in the afternoon but fuck it. "Wanna have some?"

Bob raises an eyebrow. "Right now?"

"Yeah."

"... Sure. Why the hell not." He grabs the bottle and pops it open. You hand him your cup still filled with juice, and he pours some in. Then he pours himself some as well.

You take a swig and wince. "Oh. Maybe I shouldn't have mixed it with juice." You say, strained.

He laughs a hearty laugh and drinks his own drink. It was also mixed with juice. "Oh yeah that's bad."

You both crack up laughing.
————
A few drinks later, you're feeling buzzed and loosening up a little.

You're shuffling through your stuff, unpacking and placing things on the floor. Bob is doing the same.

You look over at him. "Hey. I never asked. How long have you been working at Boys and Grills?"

He's holding a plushie in his hand. It's a little orange cat with a nurses outfit on. "I've been workin' there for 10 years. Started when I was 27. I actually own the place now."

You're silent for a second. He's 37 years old???? He looks at least 30.

Still dumbfounded, you ask, "How did you end up owning the place?"

He continues to pull out stuffed animals and gently place them on the ground. "I used to co-own it with my buddy. But uh..." He looks at the bear in his hands. "He ended up dying in a car accident." That was a lie.

"Oh my god!" You exclaim. "I'm so sorry!"

"It's alright." Bob reassures you. "He went peacefully." Another lie.

You're about to ask how someone dies peacefully in a car crash but something in Bob's hands distracts you.

He's holding up a pair of your underwear. They're a cute little pair with tiny cherries printed on them.

Silence.

Absolutely mortified for what seems like the 50th time today, you snatch the pair of panties out of his grasp, hiding them behind your back. "WOAH HAHAHA!! HOW DID THOSE GET IN THERE?" You say, face beet red. How did those get in there?

Bob looks at you, unfazed. His grin is still etched on his face, and he begins to laugh. He keeps laughing for what feels like an eternity, and you eventually do the same.

The laughing dies down, and Bob refrains from making a comment about your childish underwear. He stands up quickly.

"Well, I guess I should probably get goin'. Gotta wake up early for work in the morning."

You didn't even notice it was dark out. You stand up as well. "Oh! Oh yeah. I'm so sorry for keeping you for so long. I didn't realize what time it was."

"It's alright." He says, making his way to the front door and slipping his shoes on. He turns to look at you. "Thanks for the lunch."

You blink. "Uh yeah! No problem. I'm not exactly a good cook but uh.... Hopefully it didn't give you food poisoning."

Bob chuckles. "I'll see you around."

You wave as he leaves. "See ya."

How embarrassing.
—————
Bob had to leave. He couldn't stay there any longer. The thought of killing you was too strong.

Fuck... he needs to fulfill his urge.

Rushing home, he dawns his classic devil costume.

Someone is going missing tonight.