Getting into the building was as easy as making one's self a cup of coffee. There was no need to break in, disable the alarm or pick the lock. The happy man had taken his prize for the night upstairs to his bedroom, leaving the front door unlocked. Perhaps he hoped to lock it later that night, right after completing his most important task of the day. The killer considered allowing the victim his moment of pleasure before carrying on with the plan but the thought of sending him to the afterlife with one hell of a boner was way too thrilling to resist.

His room was the third one to the right of the stairs but the killer knew better than to barge in. That would create too much noise which would serve to dampen the thrill of the moment. Besides, no one wants to chase two scared and possibly naked people around a room with the precious time that could be used to stop their beating hearts. There was a rush of explosive pleasure the killer felt every time the thought of ending a victim's life surfaced. Such immeasurable power to control whether they lived or died. Though there was really just one option – the one where the victim died, the fact that the victim didn't know this made the feeling of control even more powerful. They believed the killer could make the choice of letting them live and for that reason, they pleaded like the pathetic little idiots they all were.

The killer entered the second bedroom to the right of the stairs and went straight for the floorboard. Pushing the brown Persian rug to the side exposed the passageway leading to the victim's bathroom. That would be the first stop. Miss. Giggles needed to be taken care of before the victim got his share of the pie. It took just a few steps after getting lowered into the darkness for the killer to emerge at the other side where the floorboard opened. Lifting it only slightly at first, the killer scanned the neat room for the position of Miss. Giggles. She stood within the glass chamber with her back to the direction of the floorboard. Her position couldn't have been more perfect for the plan.

A few quiet steps were taken towards the glass chamber housing the bathing lady, and an even quieter turn of the knob put her within reach of the killer. Perhaps it was the confidence of having the door locked or maybe the water splashing down from the showerhead that blocked out most sounds, preventing the lady from noticing there was someone else in the bathroom with her. Either way, it was a pleasant scenario for the killer who held back a chuckle as the needle was pierced into the lady's neck. The head of the syringe was pressed immediately after, emptying the syringe's content into the lady's bloodstream. It didn't take long for her to fall to the wet ground unconscious.

The stunned look on the victim's face when the bathroom door opened was priceless. There was a brief moment of confusion, followed immediately by a disapproving frown which was followed almost immediately by realization and a mad rush to cover up his exposed privates. Few things gave the killer more pleasure than the unfolding sight. There was no need to wait for questions to be asked. A silent shot was fired to the right thigh, instantly sending a stream of blood to the spotless sheets. The victim screamed like the sissy that he was, holding on to the area around his injured thigh.

The time it took the victim to look down at his thigh was all the killer needed to cover the distance between the bathroom door and the bed. His hands were quickly handcuffed to the head of the bed, making him appear like a lab specimen.

"This is the part where you call the cops." The killer addressed the screaming victim who was too preoccupied with the sounds of anguish escaping his mouth to actually respond.

"...or maybe this is the part where you call your wife." The killer continued, beaming with a wicked smile. "She'd be really interested in knowing how the business trip is going."

"Did Jodi send you?" The victim asked, getting weaker from the loss of blood.

"Get over yourself already. Jodi's too busy screwing your best friend to bother with your shenanigans." The killer replied.

"You're sick!" The victim spat with a disdainful look on his face.

"I'd watch my language if I were you." The killer replied. "...Oh, wait. I can't be you. I'm the one in control and you're the loser who's going to die."

"Then do it already, you psycho." The victim scoffed.

"A proud one. Finally! Let's see just how much you can take before you break," came the indifferent reply.

Three shots to the foot of the right leg was all it took to bring Mr. Macho to tears. The killer chuckled.

"I'd love to stick around and have some more fun but I don't have all night." The killer stated.

This time, there was silence. It was just the way the killer liked it – the first sign of fear and the beginning of an undeniable burst of pleasure.

"I'd call the cops now." The killer continued, sticking one finger in the air for the added effect.

A glimmer of hope appeared in the victim's eyes as the words "9-1-1. I have an emergency" exited the killer's mouth.

It lasted only for a second before getting replaced by pure dread. The killer flashed a satisfied smile as the knife cut neatly through the victim's neck, producing the trademark splash on the wall. The final blow through the heart came immediately after, leaving the victim cold. This time, a surgical glove covered finger was what got dipped into the dark red pool. The inscription was made just above the bed where the dead victim was handcuffed to. It took only a few minutes to drag the naked and unconscious Miss. Giggles from the bathroom floor to the bedroom. She was placed right on top the victim, with a different blood stained knife placed within her fingers.

"Isn't that the perfect sex scene?" The killer thought, taking a step back to view the result of the night's actions.

Blood dripped from the letters on the wall,making it quite artistic to view. The killer was thrilled, but knew it was timeto leave. The police would arrive any time now, and it wasn't quite the timefor a meet and greet.