It wasn’t like him to be this late. His timeliness was something he always prided himself on, and I’d never known him to be more then five minutes late for anything since we had started dating three months ago. The steak and roasted green beans grow colder, the smell of sandalwood overpowering now as the candle burns lower and lower. I blow it out and try his cell again, hoping for a response but expecting none. I go to toss the food out when I hear a knock at my apartment door. I fling the door open, but strangely, no one is there. My phone dings- “thx for warming the oven. you’ll make for an exquisite main course.” The knife crosses my throat, and I fall down, down into a pool of red, never to find my way back.