“I could kill you with anything in this room.” He said this as coldly as if he said it he looked right through me. But he saw me. The cramped and damp tool shed was not very big. There was a single aisle. Then there were the tools. I stood between him and the exit. This murdered whose face had been on TV so many times he was a household name. His white skin almost made him seem dead. His five o’ clock shadow on that pale white skin was eery in this light. Then again Santa would look creepy in this situation. I don’t know what possessed me to chase this man into my tool shed. But in retrospect it was a poor decision. Now I had to make my decision. I could get out of his way let him free. Then when I hear about another murder I’ll blame myself. Or I could take my chances with a murderer with an armory around him. I took my chance. I caused a small avalanche of tools on him. Then I picked up my chainsaw and ripped. I didn’t hear much of what he said. All I knew he got my chainsaw into my leg. Sneaky bastard.