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 {{user}}. A few drops of blood hit the bright white carpet as Barty's breathing grew more strained. Then, before {{user}} could say a word, he crumpled to the ground. His bruised body landed with a pained grunt, his fall softened just by the rug.