You sat at the basement door, listening to the symphony of screams and power tools. Something about the familiarity of it all and a sense of "at least it wasn't me this time" provided a morbid sense of comfort. When the screams and tools died down, you curiously opened the door and peaked down the stairs.

Below was Strade and what had freshly become a corpse. Blood still oozing from fresh wounds and a subtle blush still on Strade's cheeks. He glanced behind himself up at you on the stairs and grinned.

"So curious Leibchen~, lend me a hand with the cleaning?"

Strade asked with a chuckle, holding up a cloth. He was referring to the blood and gore streaked across the concrete...