There had been some news going around the neighborhood, about a strange fella creeping in the streets and killing sims in Strangetown: Jenny Smith came by Olive's door that morning, looking very concerned, asking the older lady to keep an eye out and refrain from opening her door to strange faces. She left, only after handing over her phone number to make sure Olive had it on hand, had she needed any help.
Olive gave her a friendly smile, nodded, and as soon as Jenny turned her back and got out of her walkaway, threw the paper away, tossing it to join several other numbers in the bin; it was undeniably a sign that she needed to be more careful with her nighttime activities. Maybe it wouldn't hurt if she stayed home this time.
But maybe destiny had a different plan for her. At 23:46, the doorbell rang across the empty house, and Olive smiled to herself: she was thinking about making some adjustments to her garden in the upcoming days, this would be a perfect excuse to start early. She got up from her armchair and went to check on her niece, who was sleeping peacefully in her bed. She closed the door to her room, hoping the screams wouldn't wake her up.
As the sim outside rang the doorbell a couple more times, Olive quickly stepped in the restroom to freshen up and throw on some perfume: she was sure that Grim didn't mind her looking a bit rough after all those years together, but she still wanted to look good for him, regardless if her clothes got dirty.
She went and opened the door, putting on her most innocent face: to her surprise, it wasn't one of her neighbors; in fact, she was sure she had never seen this sim before. A woman in a red dress stood in front of the entrance and stared at her with a haunted look in her hooded eyes. She threw herself at Olive, starting to sob. Her grip on Olive's shoulder was tight, desperate; her perfume was almost intoxicating.
The grip on the knife she had behind her loosened slightly.
"Oh, thank Watcher you opened the door! I've been going around, knocking on every door but no one would answer me!" The woman looked up, looking into Olive's eyes, as tears kept streaming down her face. Olive couldn't help but stare, as she noted the way the dark, shiny hair framed the woman's angular face perfectly, or how the moon's shine painted silver highlights on her tan skin. "Please, I'm begging you, let me in I'm… so scared…"
The hold on her knife tightened again.
"Oh, dear," she said, "get in! I was just about to cook something… midnight cravings," she waved the knife in front of the stranger.
The woman smiled, crying harder. "Oh, thank you! Thank you so much!" She then let go of Olive and walked in. The older woman couldn't help but notice how her red dress wrapped around her body so nicely.
"I'm so… lost…" the woman continued, slumping down on the sofa, wiping off some of the tears, "I don't know where I am, how I got here, what…" she looked ahead once again, staring at Olive's puzzled face, "what I was doing before coming here I… don't know what to do".
Her lower lip quivered, as she started sobbing again. But in her eyes, Olive saw something: a spark, some kind of hint that there was more than what she could see in the woman in front of her. Something that really interested her.
Once again, she looked at the knife she was still holding, pondering; she then nodded to herself and went to sit beside the other woman, putting the blade on the coffee table in front of them.
"Don't worry sweetheart," she said, her voice warm and understanding, "we'll figure something out". She took one of the other's hands, holding it and squeezing a bit. A small blush spread across the woman's cheeks, and Olive smiled to herself.
She really hoped her boyfriend didn't mind her playing around for a while.
