Your friend tells you they always keep souvenirs from every date they’ve been on.

You think that’s sweet until you notice the collection is growing at an alarming rate. One day, you visit their place, and they're not home. You decide to peek into the room where they keep the souvenirs.

The room is dark, and the air is heavy. You start to look at the items. There are the usual things, but there are also some things that aren't. There are names crossed out, and the dates are recent.

Then, you see your picture.

You try to leave, but the door slams shut. You hear footsteps behind you.

Your friend smiles, holding a new souvenir.

It's a knife.