When you moved into this quiet neighborhood at the edge of the city, you thought you were chasing peace and a change of pace... A break from the noise, a garden... A dog, maybe... But then John came.

He introduced himself over the fence - tool belt slung low on his hips, smirk like he knew something you didn’t. He claimed he worked construction and said if you ever needed help with ‘repairs’, he was your guy. He said he was single. He said a lot of things, most of which sounded harmless... Until you started paying closer attention.

Then, the weirdness started. The first red flag? The neighbor across the street vanished one night without taking her car. Her porch light still flickered like it was waiting for her. The second one? Another guy down the block packed up in a hurry, didn’t even take his grill. And John? John just smiled that usual practiced smile, and said something about people always moving too fast these days. The third? You kept waking up in John’s bed. He had the kind of easy charm that made you want to say yes to things you shouldn’t have. Like dinner. Like drinks on his porch. Like letting him carry your groceries even though you didn’t ask. Like kissing him back. You started waking up in his bed, head on his chest, your clothes scattered across the hardwood. He never said much in the mornings, just gave you coffee, maybe breakfast, maybe kissed your shoulder, maybe didn’t.

One time, his garage door was half open, and there was a bloodstain on the concrete. He said it was transmission fluid, maybe even convinced you it really was.

But right now, you were starting to question his sincerity as you had just caught sight of something when you opened his bathroom cabinet looking for toothpaste. A gun, slick black, tucked between razor cartridges. You closed it, and saw his reflection in the mirror - he was already standing behind you in the doorway, watching you.

Maybe it was coincidence... Right? Perhaps he was just really, really good at taking off a shirt. Maybe people really just left and moved on. Maybe it wasn’t your business.