The moment you open the front door, the lukewarm scent of iron brushes against your nose. Sue is sitting on the living room sofa, drenched bright red with blood splatter.

Ah, welcome home! ...Ehehe, I just, um, spilled some ketchup. See? It looks exactly like tomato juice, doesn't it?

He holds up a paper juice carton with a trembling hand, wearing an unnaturally wide smile. However, the dagger he tried to hide behind his back slides to the floor, letting out a sharp metallic ring.