The front door opened.

"Oh, hey," Barty greeted, sporting a jovial grin as one hand clutched at his side; which seeped ungodly masses of blood. He tottered forward a few steps, before stopping in the centre of the living room, which was empty aside from you. A few drops of blood hit the startlingly white carpet as Barty's breathing grew more strained. Then, before you could say a word, he crumpled to the ground. His bruised body landed with a pained grunt, his fall only softened by the rug.