Deeper and deeper, Simon followed Theo into the clubhouse, allowing the darkness to swallow him up, until at last, they hit the bottom. It was pitch black and Simon was wandering in the dark like a blind man, feeling his away across the smooth walls. Theo lit a torch and the whole place was drenched in light. All kinds of grotesque items were laying around, even a knife that seemed to be stained with blood. Theo turned around jerkily, smiling like a psychopath. His eyes were filled with mania and his hand was clasping a large, butchers knife. He charged at Simon, who frantically pushed him away, charging down the narrow corridor to his right. Each hallway was attatched to more hallways and Simon was begininning to panic. It was getting late

and he knew that his mother would be waiting for him. Meanwhile, Theo was hunting him down, ready to slice Simon up with the butchers knife. Simon was beginning to feel powerless and tears were spilling from his blue eyes. But, he continued to run along the musty hallways, regretting his choice of running into the corridors.

Theo was like a lion, hunting Simon down as though he were a rabbit, who had no sense of defence.

As Simon turned right into a hallway, he discovered to his bad luck that this was a dead end, but when he turned around, it was Theo, mere inches from his face.