It was a new diner, new faces - Cavan hoped - to look at, to stalk, potentially. He'd already made himself well known at the one where he'd met Molly, making it too close to pick his victims from. It would be his place to go, he supposed. His little house of normality.
Of course, he wasn't really expecting what he found when he opened the door. He'd been looking behind him, throwing out his gum in a trash can right outside. When he turned back around, there it was.
Possibly the most interesting and beautiful sight he'd seen all year. There was blood everywhere. There was a guy sitting at the counter, obviously drinking blood from a coffee mug. Cavan could tell by the thin streaks of red along the rim. Nobody else in the place was alive. He could smell cooking flesh, human flesh.
"I can see that." Cavan maybe should have been afraid, but wasn't. He made his way over to the counter to have a better look at the woman pinned to it with knives. The work was messy, but very handy. "You should lock the door, turn the sign, if you don't want to be bothered."
Tossing his bag toward a booth as to not get it messy, he returned his gaze briefly to the gentleman, trying to get an idea of what he was faced with, and then looked again to the blood. He gently reached forward to run a finger through it. Just barely getting sticky. This was pretty fresh.