He figured she’d be mad and expected her to yell, probably make some threats. He didn’t blame her; he’d made a mistake and he knew it. He wanted to apologize, even beg for forgiveness if he had to. He needed to convince her to give him a second chance. Alvin knew he could be better if she gave him a chance.

Alvin moved his hand along the wall, looking for the light switch. There was no reason to stand there in the dark. He found it, but nothing happened when he flipped it on.

“Hey, Mel, your kitchen lights aren’t working,” he shouted into the dark.

He wondered if it was just her house or the whole neighborhood. He looked back and saw the light over her patio. One of those security lights with a motion sensor that had been tripped when he came around the back, was still on. It looked like it was just her kitchen. She either flipped a breaker somehow or the bulb had burned out. Either way, once he apologized, he’d fix it for her. Show her he could be useful.

“Hey, Mel,” he called out again, “I know you can hear me.”

Still no answer.

“I know you’re home.”

She didn’t reply.

Alvin stepped forward and almost slipped. It was dark, but his eyes were adjusting so even in the dark, he could tell something was wrong with the floor. He bent down and touched it, thinking it was wet. The floor was dry, but the texture wasn’t right. Alvin wished he could turn on the lights.

“Stay right there,” Alvin heard someone say from behind him. It didn’t sound like Melanie.

He turned around and saw the shadow standing by the back door. Someone had come in behind him without him hearing anything. Alvin was pretty sure he’d locked the door when he came in. He always did, it was a habit. He wondered if the figure in the dark had been there all along.

“Who are you?” Alvin asked.

Alvin was a big guy who spent his fair share of time in the gym. He’d been in a fight or two with people who could hit back and had fared pretty well. The man by the door would need to explain himself fast or Alvin was thinking he’d do a little ass-kicking.

Instead of saying anything, the man shot forward—he was quick—and poked Alvin in the side with a taser before Alvin figured out what was going on. Alvin landed hard on the floor with the not-quite-right texture.

He didn’t think he’d lost consciousness, but he must have because he didn’t remember anyone putting zip ties on his wrists and ankles. It was still dark, but Alvin could see the man who tased him was now holding a knife, a double-sided combat-style thing.

Alvin really hoped Melanie wasn’t home but just in case she was, he screamed, “Run, Mel, fucking run for your life.”

“Glad to see, even for a scumbag like you, that chivalry isn’t dead,” the man with the knife said. “Unlike you, though. You’re going to be dead soon enough. But don’t worry, we’re going to have some fun first.”

Alvin looked up at his attacker. “Look, man, I don’t know what this about, but we can work something out. Just let me go.”

“No, I’m not going to do that.”

“Come on, man.”

“This is going to be worse than you can imagine,” the man said before plunging the knife into Alvin’s belly.

Even though Alvin prided himself on having a decent imagination, the man was right.