Up the stairs and up to the second floor
From Create Your Own Story
When you get to the top of the steps, someone shines a flashlight directly in your face. You hold up a hand to shield your eyes, and here the tremoring voice of Mr. Park. "What do you want? Why do you have a bat? Why did you kick in my front door?"
"Can you move that light a little bit, Mr. Park? I only came to make sure you're all alive and well." You say. Lying, but you say it anyway. He turns the flashlight from your eyes, and you can see he holds a small pistol in his other hand. "Is everyone here?" you ask.
"Yes," he nods. He was an unassuming man. Short, balding, thick mustache and thicker glasses, and a thin frame contrasted by a round pot belly. He was the history professor at the local college, and he looked just like one. "My wife and daughter are upstairs in our room, trying to ride out the storm and whatever else is out there."
You hold out your hand. "Let me see that gun, Mr. Park. You're shaking so badly I'm afraid it might go off."
"I don't know if that's a good idea," he says.
Do you:
