“Sometimes I like to go into bathrooms just after they’ve been cleaned and inhale the scents of cleanliness- bleach, pine, chemical antiseptics… it’s so soothing!”

I gave Emily a “what the fuck” look. “You’re a nut job. And possibly an addict. I think you need help.”

Emily rolled her eyes and gave a half-hearted shrug. I really hoped she was kidding. “God, is he ever going to be done? I want to go.” She said petulantly, giving the bathroom a significant look.

“You can’t hurry nature-” I was interrupted as the bathroom door shuddered under a heavy impact from the inside.

“John?” I ventured.

Scratching noises filled the air as something clawed at the door. The bar-shaped handle rattled violently once, and then again and again, gaining a frantic intensity. It stopped abruptly and everything went quiet. The entire Starbucks was silent, everyone staring fearfully at the bathroom door.

Light vanished with an audible click and the darkness under the door began to leak blood in an ever-widening pool.