The house had grown cold, the windows emitting rattles from the wind's pressure, your feet numb from hours on the hardwood floor. Randy hadn't returned since his shift started. The old, rotting remains of buttocks he had taken and stored within the bathroom's walls seemed to fade.

The heavy light above your head gleams like an intense stare, illuminating you from above, the AC's breeze against your skin starting to prickle with irritation. He always seemed to act as if nothing was wrong, Normal even, like good 'friends' besides the clear hostility he'd hit you with.

Outside, the children were cloaked in costumes, laughter fading through the dim night, the streetlights peeking inside through the thick curtains. Stuck inside, all you could do was stare at the piano, the already worn and cold keys still waiting to be pressed. The front door rattled with the jingle of keys- Randy had come back from terrorizing the kids, it seemed.