He looked at the deep pinprick on his hand, blood running down the string hanging off the fingerless glove, yet he did not seem distraught with this bloodletting. He managed to miss the artery on his wrist. But when the blood started pooling on the ground, making the floor slithery and unstable, the felon looked for something to stop the bleeding—seeing a first aid kit; he quickly pried open the lid. It was empty. He began walking towards the bathroom when his foot engaged a tripwire; a chilling feeling came over him. One wrong move could banish him to Hell.