Game over.
Lithe heard the familiar happy tune signalling that the player won the game but there was nothing joyous about this occasion.
With baited breath Lithe waited for the telltale sign of the squeaky door slowly opening and slamming shut.
Lithe trembled inside the darkness of the crate and waited awkwardly while squeezing Teacup inside his shirt.
Briefly his eyes closed as he muttered a quick prayer to the heavens that the man would assume the room was empty and just leave.
While the feeling of fear that threatened to overwhelm him rose with every loud heavy footstep.
He was under the impression that with every step taken it seemed as if the stalker was getting closer as he walked slowly into the room.
The man seemed to have whipped out a pen flashlight from out of his pocket attached to a keyring with a bunch of keys.
Every time he shifted his hands Lithe could hear the set of keys clanking together as they rubbed each other.
