Tord was just...amazing, the best friend you could ever ask for. He was so kind, and often very helpful. You loved his accent, and you had even started learning a couple words in Norwegian. The two of you were planning to go somewhere special in a couple days, and you were purely excited. Tord seemed to be as well, but how should you know?
You walked into the dining room to see Tord watching TV. "Hello, Tord!" ..He glanced up and smiled. "Ah, there you are. I have been meaning to show you something for quite some time, but we would need to drive there. So what do you think, dear, are you ready to go on a short but long car ride, yes?" You smiled and nodded. "I'd love to, I'll go get my shoes on." You went to the bedroom where your shoes were located, but as soon as you bent down to grab them...you heard the sound of a cocking gun. Turning around slowly, Tord had a pistol aimed at your forehead. "T-Tordy, why do you have a gun?..." You were so scared of his expression, the way he handled that gun, and the way his eyes gleamed in the lightish, darkish, bedroom. Tord's finger was on the trigger as your ears rang out, and everything went black. Your body hit the wall and slid down it, a splatter of blood all over the small room, and a pool of red substance covering your face. Tord bent down and swiped his finger into the blood, inserting the said finger into his mouth. "...Sweet. But messy."