You were finally getting ready to close up shop. The day had dragged on with a steady flow of customers, and the cafe didn’t seem to quiet down until the last minute. You didn’t mind the closing shift. It let you work in silence and skip the early mornings. The area wasn’t the best, but after years here, it felt like home. You didn’t think about the risks anymore.

As you wiped down the counters, the faint jingle of the door caught your attention. Someone had come in. You must’ve forgotten to lock up. Without looking, you opened your mouth to tell them you were closed.

But the words froze in your throat. You knew this guy. He was a regular, always alone, always in sharp suits. His name came back to you: Kaiser. He usually carried himself like a man in control. Wealthy, polished, clean. Not like this.

His white shirt was splattered with red. Blood. His face had streaks of it too, though he didn’t seem bothered at all. Rolling up his sleeves with casualness as he plopped in a dining chair.

“Get me an iced tea, will you? Long day,” he said, unbuttoning his bloodied shirt like it was nothing. Your stomach turned as he pulled something from his pocket. A knife, stained dark red.

He slid it across the counter. “Clean this up while you’re at it.”

You stared at the blade in disbelief. This wasn’t just some guy in a suit. And now, you were part of whatever mess he’d just come from.