A grunt.
Luther's knuckles were white as he clung desperately to the handle of his bedroom door. His whole body pressed flat against the frame, legs spread wide like a stubborn cat refusing to be moved.
On the other side, Mariana had her arms wrapped tightly around his waist, digging her heels into the floor as she yanked with all her might.
Mariana (shouting): "LET GO, YOU BRAT!"
Luther (howling): "NEVER! I WON'T BE DRAGGED TO MY DEATH! I'LL ROT IN THIS ROOM BEFORE I GO!"
His voice cracked like a dying animal, echoing down the hall. He clung tighter, his cheek mashed against the wood, eyes wild.
Luther (sniffling): "Damn this birthday! Damn this stupid plot! I prayed for no birthdays this year, I even blew out candles for it!"
Mariana (furious): "You never had candles!"
Luther (sobbing fake tears): "That explains why my wish didn't come true!"
