It's a warm evening

The sun is about to set and just as you lock your windows, a familiar shadow darkens them, tapping with bloodied knuckles on the iron fixings, the hooded man, in bloodstained white, rapping at your window like a stray cat begging to be let in

You open the window and there he stands, injured and bloody, his eyes wild his voice a soft rasp,

"May i use your bath......?"