The hot water beats against your skin as you sigh, relaxing amidst the clouds of steam.
The room smells of heat and lavender.
A thought slips across your mind;
"I should pull the shower curtain closed."
One eye peeks open through the shampoo suds, about to reach for the plastic.
A single skeletal hand, flesh taut and grey, nails like claws, grasps the fabric and slowly slides it shut.
A few moments pass when you hear the hinge of the bathroom door squeak, the click of the lock resting in place.
Then nothing else.