You wait at the table, fiddling with cutlery. You look up as your boyfriend walks into the kitchen. Boyfriend's not the right word, but the label doesn't matter anyhow.

He's covered in blood as he eagerly walks up to you. "All finished, he won't be a problem anymore, my love." He looks to you, seeming to want your approval.

He's so cute. Adorable and at your disposal to do whatever you want.