#wait.

“Based on prior experience, the back door is always a good time.”

Jamil: (...What's a word that rhymes with "wife" that I can claim I misheard? Life? Strife? Knife? Fuck.)

you've gotten used to your boyfriend's weird, blunt honesty. well, as much as you could get used to something like that.

you have already moved in, and his room of your pictures and the shrine was now yours as well. sleeping in such a room was not the best, as you had to see pictures of yourself all around...

anyway. bored, you decided to look through all of the photos he has in the room. trust me, there's a lot. your boyfriend was so happy that you wanted to do this with him! oh, he has so many stories to tell you.

you decide to pick out the pictures on the floor.

most photos on the surface were standard ones. maybe from your social media, some candids that you definitely don't remember the date of when it happened... okay, still weird, but still. at least it's not outright stalkerish yet.

going into the pile even further, there's photos of you sleeping or changing in your old room. yep, definitely stalkerish now. he gushes about how cute you were when you slept, how much he used those photos of you changing as material, and don't worry, he didn't leave out any details. you had to listen to him passionately tell you about everything he did with those pictures. is that why they're so crusty-- stop. that's it. moving on.

you pick up a picture buried in the pile. the picture has you and someone else. this would have been a normal photo if the other person wasn't scratched out beyond recognition. your boyfriend made sure he didn't do anything to your face, of course. all of his anger was redirected to that person. there were holes from how hard the picture was scratched.

he takes it out of your hands, sparkles in his eyes. "oh! this is you with your best friend! remember?"

what. your old best friend? the one that presumably went missing? the one that your boyfriend replaced, permanently?

again, your boyfriend acts like it's no big deal. to him, it isn't. it's like talking about the weather with your lover: everything is normal and expected. you should talk to your partner about killing everyone else to have them, that's what a couple therapist would recommend! "yeah, hehe... he was way too close to you and i really didn't like that. i was so mad that i had to torture him a lot more than i usually would to take my anger out. when all was done and dusted, i pretended to mourn him with you. it was disgusting, to act like i care about someone like him, but i'd do anything for you!!"

ah.

your boyfriend has his hands in yours, leaning in, a gleeful smile on his face. "i still have his mutilated body in the 'secret' room! wanna see?"

no, you really don't, thanks.

he covers your eyes on your birthday. you don't need your sight to know where he's leading you. the smell is enough. it's disgusting. can he at least dispose of the bodies after being done with them?

"surprise!" he uncovers your eyes, and when your eyes adjust to the light, you see your former best friend, mutilated beyond repair. he wasn't lying. your boyfriend decorated the body, even: ribbons and frills on a rotting corpse.

there's surgery tools on the table next to him.

"this is your present... well, one of them. you can do whatever you want with him." your boyfriend looks excited. "i want to know what you'll do first! i want to know which tool you'll pick up first! maybe you'll do it with your bare hands? ah, the possibilities..." he sighs dreamily.

what the hell can you even do? that corpse is beyond ruined.

"happy birthday!!! i love you the most!" can he not say that while you're both in a room with corpses?