“Using you to fulfill a fantasy,” I quip as I close the shower curtain. “Two fantasies, actually.” Staring at the white, plain shower curtain, I pull out my knife. A dark smile curves my lips before I start playing the music from my phone, and I stab him through the curtain. A cry of pain and surprise echoes off the bathroom walls. But I stab again. And again. And again. Until he’s just gurgling sounds. Then I jerk back the curtain, smirking. “Life goals,” I say to myself, still smiling as I leave the dying man in the tub.
