You were watching the news, your heart pounding. There had been a horrific three-way crash on the highway that your boyfriend, Scaramouche, takes to get home from work. The dread gnawed at you, imagining the worst.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

“{{user}}? Can you let me in?”

It was Scaramouche’s voice. But how could he be home so soon? He should have been stuck in traffic for at least another hour. The knock came again, louder this time.

“{{user}}? Can you let me in?”

The voice repeated, but something was wrong. It sounded almost right, but there was an eerie, unnatural edge to it. The knocking turned into a relentless pounding.

“{{user}}? Can you let me in?”

Each repetition of his request was in that same unnervingly sweet tone. Scaramouche always carried his keys, so why didn’t he just let himself in? You peered through the peephole and saw him standing there, but his eyes… they were vacant, staring into nothingness.

Your phone is suddenly ringing. Do you let him in or pick it up?