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He
flung
the
curtain
open
.
Lying
in
the
tub
,
naked
,
lolling
almost
weightless
in
the
water
,
was
George
Hatfield
,
a
knife
stuck
in
his
chest
.
The
water
around
him
was
stained
a
bright
pink
.
George
’
s
eyes
were
closed
.
His
penis
floated
limply
,
like
kelp
.
"
George
-
"
he
heard
himself
say
.
At
the
word
,
George
’
s
eyes
snapped
open
.
They
were
silver
,
not
human
eyes
at
all
.
George
’
s
hands
,
fish
-
white
,
found
the
sides
of
the
tub
and
he
pulled
himself
up
to
a
sitting
position
.
The
knife
stuck
straight
out
from
his
chest
,
equidistantly
placed
between
nipples
.
The
wound
was
lipless
.
"
You
set
the
timer
ahead
,
"
silver
-
eyed
George
told
him
.
"
No
,
George
,
I
didn
’
t
.
I
-
"
"
I
don
’
t
stutter
.
"
George
was
standing
now
,
still
fixing
him
with
that
inhuman
silver
glare
,
but
his
mouth
had
drawn
back
in
a
dead
and
grimacing
smile
.
He
threw
one
leg
over
the
porcelained
side
of
the
tub
.
One
white
and
wrinkled
foot
placed
itself
on
the
bathmat
.
"
First
you
tried
to
run
me
over
on
my
bike
and
then
you
set
the
timer
ahead
and
then
you
tried
to
stab
me
to
death
but
I
still
don
’
t
stutter
.
"
George
was
coming
for
him
,
his
hands
out
,
the
fingers
slightly
curled
.
He
smelled
moldy
and
wet
,
like
leaves
that
had
been
rained
on
.
