A young couple exits their car, tension following them like a ghost. They've only been together for two years, and have marital problems people in their early 20's shouldn't face for another decade or two together.

The husband carries his wife's purse; she walks past him, trying to ignore him.

"Layla, stop acting like a child!" He calls out to her as she looks for her keys.

She must've forgotten that the house key is in her purse, so she walks towards her pleading husband.

"Talk to me!" He roars, his muscles tensing from the irritation she causes him.

"No," Layla says simply while walking inside their townhouse.

He follows her like a scolded dog, a cowardly tail between their legs. In the heat of their argument, neither of them notice a shadowy figure slipping inside with them before the door closes.

The masked figure ducks behind a corner, careful to avoid their detection. He enjoys the theatrics and the surprise factor, so he must wait for the perfect moment to make his presence known.

"Sweetie, I'm trying! I agreed to go to counseling, didn't I?" The angry husband attempts to reason with Layla.

She doesn't give him any attention as she walks to the kitchen, about to make a cup green tea, the kind she drinks religiously.

"You're an absolute slimebag, attempting to convince me that you're trying. Todd, you aren't doing shit," She says quietly, but not weakly.

No, strength ripples through her voice, coating her words and making her insults hurt that much more.

The unknown figure smiles underneath his facade, admiring the wife's powerful silence. He vows to destroy her strength, thinking of the pleasure he'll get from crippling her.

His shadow creeps around their sizable home, admiring the various decor littering the place. Inside their dining room is a set of steak knives, already wrapped around napkins in order to impress the couple's guests.

He grabs one, undoes the napkin, and feels the smooth, sharp edge. He's dealt with his fair share of knives, and knows when one is expensive.

"I said I'm sorry! What else can I do?" The husband's pleas startle the masked man, bringing him back on track.

His mission is clear, and he realizes that he must seize this perfect opportunity to make his entrance.

The masked man walks into the couple's kitchen, and the husband has his back to him, a fatal mistake.

The figure grabs the husband's arms, pinning them behind his back. At the same time, he brings the steak knife to the man's neck, ready to slit his throat without hesitation.

Layla is frozen, shock covering her face. As she gazes into the masked man's unblinking eyes, she becomes even more unsettled.

His mask is a cheaply-made, plastic face coupled with a child-sized crown on top of his head. The mask only covers his face, leaving his bright orange hair visible to Layla.

Those dead, vacant eyes staring at her makes her blood freeze with fear. There's already a sense of finality in the air, and Layla gets the feeling that this man is no ordinary criminal.

"Don't make a sound, Todd," The man whispers to Layla's husband.

"Please..." He begins to say, but the knife wielder tightens his grip, cutting the man ever-so-slightly. Blood begins to pool around the knife, and just seeing the dark red color of it makes the shadowy figure smile.

"You, woman, sit in a chair," The unknown man commands, and she follows his orders out of sheer terror.

"Let him go," She demands, that familiar strength in her voice having no effect on the dark figure in front of her.

The crazed man laughs heartily, and Todd shakes under his debilitating grasp.

"You're defending this man? The same guy who cheated on you!" He points the knife at her husband, who has been fearfully holding his breath.

Layla says nothing, her shaky hands betraying her apathetic countenance. Even though her face is showing bravery, the masked man sees right through it.

Layla is terrified, and rightly so.

"We're going to have a fun little night. One of you will die," He sneers.

Todd begins to cry at the sharp knife cutting his skin, but Layla's face shows nothing.

"Don't kill him," She orders.

"I admire your valiant effort to save this pathetic excuse of a man, but he's the one I chose to fall," He meant that quite literally, sweeping Todd's legs out from under him and making him crash to the floor.

Layla's hands slam on the table; she's already on her feet.

The man points his knife at her. "If you move, you will die, too. I'll make your death slow. Pain will eat you from the inside out," He smiles devilishly under his mask.

She sits back down, feeling absolutely useless as this evil man begins to carve away at her husband.

The knife he has is small, but his skill certainly shows as he slaughters Todd slowly, drinking up his suffering like it's a glass of expensive wine. Todd screams, but soon falls silent to his wife's dismay.

She watches as the masked man cuts out her husband's tongue. This is not the first time he's done something like this, so he knows exactly where to cut in order to prevent him from bleeding out immediately.

No, he won't die that easily. The man plucks Todd's tongue out from his mouth, ordering Layla to hold it.

"A warning," The man says, humor in his voice. "Just in case you have any desire to scream as well!"

She cries silently, hating that she can't stop him from butchering her husband. She's always been able to control those around her, but not this time. Not the one time it truly matters.

The knife slices through Todd's skin easily, crunching through his bones with a more force applied. It's not a huge effort to the killer, who is solid muscle through-and-through.

The masked man throws all of Todd's fingers on the couple's dining room table, leaving Layla to gawk at the gore. One lands on a big serving dish, making the scene look like an elaborate dinner.

She can't contain her disgust any longer once Todd's entire fingerless hand lands on their wood table, so she leans down to puke her guts out.

Vomit lands on her designer shoes, a thought that would have terrified her yesterday, but she doesn't bat an eye.

This gives the figure a new idea, and he smiles.

Next, the table fills up with Todd's organs. First, the man carves out his large intestine, tossing it on the table carelessly. It's slimy, and reminds Layla of raw sausage she would pick up at the supermarket.

She won't be preparing any kind of meat for some time. Not when the very sight of it reminds her of her late husband's limbs piled on top of her table.

The wife can't hold back her horrified scream, which only angers the killer. He hates when people interrupt his work, but he chooses to ignore her cries.

Todd's eyes are lifeless, in fact, he died when the killer began to slice off his third finger. Now, the masked man is defiling Todd for his own sick pleasure.

He ends his butchering by throwing Todd's heart at his wife's face, leaving Layla nauseous once again.

When she looks closely at her husband's heart, she finds it still beating faintly.

Layla passes out, absolute terror etched throughout her face.

The killer closes Todd's eyes, leaving him completely cut open on the marble floor.

"Goodbye, Layla," He whispers at the unconscious woman below him.

Walking away from the bloody scene, he tosses away his cheap mask behind him, the mask landing face-up on the young couple's lawn..

It doesn't really matter much to him, he can always get a new one tomorrow.