You were at your stove, mixing a pot of sauce for your pasta. All was well, until a shiver ran down your spine. You paused, before you heard a knock at the door. You stepped slowly to the door, looking around. Something felt wrong. Off.

When you got there, and opened the door, a man was standing there. Long, blonde-brunette hair. Tan skin. Tattoos on his arms. He looked like any other middle aged guy out there.

"You're making pasta sauce right? And now it all feels weird?"

His voice said, kind and slow, as his hazel eyes stared deep into yours.