A bit dark.

She heard a sound below, and she listened. She heard the side door to the garage close, and she heard the closet door downstairs open and shut. She smiled. She had just gotten home from her job and she wanted to have some fun with her husband. She was off work at a reasonable time and she knew he would be right at this time. He was so consistent. Lucky.

She had the door open to a side hallway, a peculiar bit of design of the house they lived in, and waited for him to come in through the main bedroom door. She heard footsteps up the stairs and she heard the steps coming to the bedroom. She saw the door start to open.

And her jaw dropped, her body refusing to react for a moment. It wasn't her husband! However, that moment gave this strange man the time he needed and he soon had a syringe in her neck.

He walked down the stairs, smiling as he took each step, looking about at this house. Such an odd design, he thought, now that his focus was no longer on his main reason for being here. He got down to the first floor, a feminine hand against the banister, the other smooth out a small wrinkle just above what was her right breast. Not anymore.

He didn't bother to hide anything or clean up, preferring it this way. Her husband would come home to the strange machine and an unconscious wife who was now only about ten percent herself. The rest, he thought with a smile, was leaving this house and never coming back. He had gotten what he wanted.