Home Alone

It starts coming out, and you know there's no turning back now. You sneeze, and the boots stop dead in their tracks. A mangled face with a wispy beard peeks under the bed. He sees you, and smiles with crooked teeth. "I knew you were here somewhere," he whispers, though his face is unfamiliar. Before you can say a word, a gun is pointed to your face. You hold back tears because you know it's over.