Kínitos throws himself up from his couch out of surprise as he mutters, *Who's knocking at my door this time at night?* As he looks over to the clock, he lets out a long sigh and walks over to the door.
"Who is it?" he yells out.
"Your neighbor," a manly voice responds.
Looking through the peephole, he sees a man with light pale skin and dark brown hair, wearing an all-black outfit.
"What do you need?" asked Kínitos.
"Just here to return your wallet," the man replied as he reaches into his pocket and shows a pink Sailor Moon wallet. Patting himself down, he tries to feel for his wallet, finding his pocket to be empty.
"Oh shit, thank you," Kínitos says as he reaches for the doorknob but pauses, realizing he didn't bring his wallet to the bar. Quickly scanning the living room, his eyes lock onto the kitchen counter.
"Yeah, no problem. I'll just hand it to you," said the man, his voice sounding shaky.
Quickly, Kínitos runs there, trying not to make noise with his feet as he finds his wallet near his sink. "No, it's alright. You can leave it at the door," said Kínitos.
"Well, I don't want anyone to pick it up and steal it," said the man, sounding agitated.
Quickly running to the couch, he grabs his phone and types in 911. He retreats back into the kitchen, grabbing a knife, and looks straight at the door in nervous anticipation.
"No, really, it's okay," said Kínitos, his drunken state now mixed with fear, making his voice crack.
"Hugh… So you're not buying it, are you?" said the man as he begins to fumble with the doorknob.
"I'm going to call the police if you don't fuck off!" yelled Kínitos at the top of his lungs.
"They wouldn't be able to come in time," said the man. Kínitos hears a large gust of wind blow through his house. Pressing the call button, he hears, "911, what is your emergency?" asked a lady.
"There's a man trying to break into—" Stopping before Kínitos can finish his sentence, he sees the door slowly open as the man walks through it.
Looking toward Kínitos, the man pulls out a scalpel. Seeing the blood covering it, the man then points it in Kínitos's direction. *Sir, are you still there? What's happening?* asked the lady.
"Get the fuck out of my house!!" yelled Kínitos, holding his knife toward the man.
"You don't know who I am, do you?" the man asked.
"I don't give a flying fuck or shit who you are!" replied Kínitos.
*Is the man in the house with you, sir?* asked the woman. "Yes, what the fuck do you think?" said Kínitos.
"Five years. We worked at the same job for five years, and you don't know me, but you know Sara all too well," the man rambled on, edging closer and closer to the kitchen. Kínitos glances behind him into the hallway leading to his room and bathroom.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," said Kínitos, moving around the counter that divided them both.
"I work with you, and you've been hurting Sara. You don't deserve her," said the man.
"What the hell is this? Is this some creepy stalker thing?" said Kínitos, moving the opposite way of where the man is going.
"No, you're bad for her," he replied.
"I have a fucking knife. I'll stab your ass with your little scalpel," said Kínitos.
"Oh, it's not just a scalpel," said the man as he runs toward Kínitos. Circling around the table, he swings the scalpel, missing him. It hits the sink as a large chunk disappears into thin air.
"What the hell?" yells Kínitos in confusion as he runs toward the living room door. The man quickly jumps across the table and swings. Kínitos jumps out of the way as the man's scalpel hits a lamp, cutting it into two.
Quickly standing up, the man wildly swings as Kínitos tries to dodge each strike. ...Kínitos swings his knife, and the man dodges, **the scalpel tearing through his shirt and carving a jagged, gaping gash across his abdomen. Skin and muscle peel back like wet paper, exposing glistening coils of intestine beneath. Hot blood gushes down his legs, pooling at his feet as a ribbon of flesh dangles grotesquely from the wound**. He feels a sharp burning sensation **explode into white-hot agony**, looking down he sees **a mangled trench of raw meat and splintered cartilage—far deeper than any scalpel should cut**. Holding his stomach, he stumbles back, **the metallic stench of copper thick in his throat** as blood **slicks his fingers and soaks his shirt, warm and sticky**.
"Oh, this isn't a normal scalpel. It's a gift that God gave me. Anything it touches gets taken," said the man.
"What the fuck are you on?" said Kínitos as he pants, trying to catch his breath, but it's running faster than him.
"My name is fucking Suris," said the man angrily.
"From fucking accounting? Wait, you're the weird guy that has a crush on her," said Kínitos.
"I'm not fucking weird," Suris counters as he chases Kínitos.
Quickly, Kínitos moves back, tripping and dropping his phone. Suris leaps on top of him, grabbing his wrist with his left hand as he goes to stab him. The knife penetrates, but Kínitos feels a hard object stopping it. With a smile, the killer looks into his eyes.
"I came prepared, you asshole," said Suris.
Kínitos then quickly moves to stab the killer in the neck but gets his hand pinned down as they both struggle.
"I'm going to fucking kill you," said the killer.