Third-person POV
The sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the empty hallways as Deena ran, her heart hammering in her chest.
Electra chuckled, glancing at her watch. "One… two… three…"
Irina tapped her foot impatiently. "I hope she's not dumb enough to hide somewhere obvious."
Roxana giggled, stretching her arms. "Makes it less fun if she does, but I'd like to get to bed soon, so whatever, I guess."
Electra continued counting, the seconds ticking down slowly, deliberately, letting the anticipation build.
"Seven… eight…"
Deena's panicked breaths filled her ears as she dashed into an old supply closet, pressing her back against the shelves stacked with forgotten books and broken chairs. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to quiet her breathing, praying—praying—that she wouldn't be found.
"Nine… ten."
Electra's eyes snapped open, her playful smirk replaced with something sharper.
"Time's up."
Irina cracked her knuckles. "Where do we start?"
