He rounded a corner and the flashlight beam hit a figure. It was a man, cloaked in shadows, wielding a pair of oversized, gleaming scissors. The maniac didn't scream; he just stepped forward, the blades clicking together in a terrifying cadence.
Adam bolted. He scrambled through the dark, past restroom stalls and through narrow corridors, his heart hammering against his ribs. He dove into a dusty wardrobe, pulling the door shut just as the heavy thud of boots entered the room. Through the slats, he watched the killer pass—a silhouette of pure, senseless malice. The.Night.of.the.Scissors.rar
He knew he had to find a way out, or he would become just another piece of "scrap" in the Snipper's collection. The post office was no longer a place of letters and lost packages; it was a tomb, and the night was only beginning. He rounded a corner and the flashlight beam hit a figure