[Serrure is no fool, he had seen- or rather not seen- how fast Karl could move. Outpacing him will not be possible, he thinks. One hand slips to his throat, wincing as he feels the cooling blood there- tacky as it congeals. His blood. The wounds are all but gone, but it might just be how numb his fingers feel.
The hoodie will be a total loss, pity, it was his favorite.
But now he's moving, quiet, winding his way through boxes in the dark like a mouse in a maze. He hates that thought, though mice so often get away. How do they get away? Holes. So he needs a door. He's good with doors, for some reason he knows how to turn the handle just right so that even the locked ones open.
Action!
The hoodie will be a total loss, pity, it was his favorite.
But now he's moving, quiet, winding his way through boxes in the dark like a mouse in a maze. He hates that thought, though mice so often get away. How do they get away? Holes. So he needs a door. He's good with doors, for some reason he knows how to turn the handle just right so that even the locked ones open.
So he begins with the first doors he finds.]