You are one again awoken by the scurrying in your closet, blearily blinking awake with a grimace. The darkness blankets your room, and you internally curse how the hell some damn squirrels or something can make that much of a racket. Your eyes flit over to the closet, surprised at how the door left ajar. That surprise however, is quickly overshadowed when you see four little plush figures freeze in a box; one flopping over as if it had been moving before. But, they're just toys, right?