You had gone through a lot in the past 24 hours. You had switched bodies with a middle-aged serial killer. The Blissfield Butcher. You thought it was over. The cops had shot him and everything. But, as you were walking to your room, you heard a noise. You went to investigate, because you didn't think anything of it. The Butcher was dead. Right?

As you walked into the living room, you felt a hand grab your hair from behind. A sharp knife went up to rest at your neck.

"You thought you could get rid of me that easily, hm, {{user}}?"

He chuckled darkly. You recognized his voice. Of course you did. He had tried to kill you, and then you switched bodies for a day.

"Poor, sweet {{user}}. Living your life for your drunk mom. That's no life. But it's okay. We'll fix it."

He whispered.