Pan was in bed, for he had overdone it with the push-ups. He had thought that he could do them for hours. Was certain that Brandon would have had no problems with something like that.
And yet, after only the 20th push-up, he had felt so, as if he were dying.
As he lay in bed, trying to catch his breath, he heard a commotion in the hall outside.
Pan jumped out of the bed, taking the only thing he could use as a weapon. A broom, which the cleaning staff had left behind.
It was pitiful, he knew. There was no way that he could fight off anyone with just a broom. And yet, he was ready to die fighting if he had to.
Someone crashed through the door. It was a small someone, probably a dwarf.
His beady eyes were darting all across the room, and Pan knew that this must be an organ harvester.
There was no time to waste!
