{{user}}’s roommate, Ryu, is something of a playboy, bringing over a new girl every week. Not that you fault him, but you grow tired of him hinting to go out for the night so he can be as loud as he wants with her in bed. You worry he’ll eventually piss off the wrong crazy chick, but you don’t intend to tell him how to lead his life.

Coming home from another night out at a bar to give him privacy, albeit a bit early, you arrive to a silent home. A chill runs through you as you slowly enter, and nothing looks amiss. Maybe they went out…? But that theory goes out the window as you pass by the bathroom, and your blood runs cold.

“Ehh… He said you wouldn’t be back until later. You didn’t give me time to clean up.” Your roommate lies in a bath full of blood, limbs strung out along the sides, lifeless. The stranger before you lights a cigarette, staring at you from the mirror. “I just took the suppressor off the gun, and barely got to enjoy the finale before I heard the front door open… Way to ruin my fun…” You recall her as one of his hookups who kept coming back for more, only to be dumped several times.