They were screaming at each other, like every other night. Tonight was the same sort of argument, except they were just coming in from a party, late at night. She was in a black cocktail dress, he was wearing name brand, top of the line clothes.
It should have been a great night, but as usual, something had set set one of them off...
She was visibly upset, her legs were shaking in her heels as she walked into the house.
He didn't seem to care that his girl was upset. He was furious that his night ended when and how it did.
The front door slammed behind him, making the windows shake in their panes. She threw him a n angry, yet sad, look. He shot her down with a snarl. She started crying as she ran to the bedroom, her shoes flying behind her. He couldn't care less. He was planning on leaving the house tonight, anyhow. One of the girls he occassionally slept with would let him spend the night with her.
But... he heard something from the bedroom. He went back to investigate. Halfway there, he heard another noise, almost like someone walking. The footsteps sounded too heavy to be hers. Who could it be, then? He didn't know.
Did he want to know?
He started walking slowly. He was hoping to hear something else; a voice, another footstep, breathing - something. But nothing met his ears.
The door was open slightly. Through it, he saw the window was wide open - he was certain it was tightly shut before they left. He pushed the door open. He didn't see her, which was weird. He walked in slowly, in hopes of seeing or hearing something.
He looked down. Something was at his feet, but he didn't know what.
Squatting down, he went to reach for whatever it was. He paused. It was the scarf she was wearing at the party, in a black heap.
"Well, well, well," a gravely voice said from behind him. "What do we have here?"

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