he looks left.
he looks right.
the coast is clear. creeping swiftly down the tunnel, the darkness seemes to fade away. he is near.
he sees the light.
or does he?
unsure of the authencity of the light, he stops to survey his situation.
he sees thin wires of barb strewn across the exit.
should he push through?
or should he lie in wait?
the procrastination slowly saps his oxygen tanks dry. he must soon come to a decision.
he goes for the kill.
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