Colin firmly grasped the edges of the board and began to gently tug at it, the board creaking as it did so. Fearful that the guard would hear, Colin strained his muscles pulling the board until it popped loose... and by "popped loose", it really meant the board cracked and flew off, filling the right side of Colin's nose with splinters.
"WHO THE HELL'S THERE?!" the guard called out.
Colin wasted no time squeezing his gutt through the gap and scrambling around the side to the front and running for the front door. He heaved it open, darted in, and slammed the door, locking it as he began searching for anything he could use.
"YOU BEST GET THE FUCK OUT! YOU WON'T LIKE ME COMING UP THE STAIRS FROM THE BACK!!!"
Colin bolted across the room and pulled the door shut, as a muscular arm began tugging his.
"You're a dead man!" the guard growled.
Colin, without hesitation, pulled out the kitchen knife in his bag and stabbed the man's arm, incurring an animalistic scream of pain and a gush of blood as Colin hit him with the door and jammed his knife into the side of the assailant's neck. With that, he slammed the door shut and locked it. Now it was time to get to business getting supplies. But where to start?