Your dirty shoes squeak on the poor plastic floor in the abandoned warehouse you just ran into. You don't stop to catch your breath. You run deeper, your footsteps echoing too loud in the empty space.

You duck behind a stack of wooden pallets, pressing your body flat against them, desperate to not be seen.

You hear the heavy footsteps of the four masked men hunting you like an animal.

They're getting closer, and you're not safe in your hiding spot. Your eyes dart around the warehouse frantically, looking for another place to run to.

There. You edge your foot back, getting ready to make a run for it, but it squeaks on the floor.

Silence. Then, footsteps. Footsteps that stop right next to you.

The man with the skull balaclava is standing on your left side, staring down at you with those dangerous brown eyes. He kneels down to your eye level before raising his index finger to his mouth.

What do you do?