Cardlin adjusted his fake blood-stained lab coat and checked his sinister, slightly cracked mask one last time. He was in the "Operating Room of Horrors," the grand finale of the scare maze. The dim, flickering light cast ominous shadows, and the air reeked of fake antiseptic and something metallic—perhaps the special effects team's approximation of blood.

He heard the hurried footsteps approaching, quick and frantic. Whoever it was seemed to be running, not walking, through the maze. That wasn’t unusual—plenty of visitors sprinted when their nerves got the better of them. But there was something about the rhythm of the footsteps, uneven and desperate, that sent a shiver of anticipation down his spine.

"Perfect," he thought, his excitement growing. He had one group left, and he wanted to make this scare a showstopper. It was his favorite part of the night—seeing the reactions of people teetering on the edge of fear and thrill.

Cardlin crouched behind the overturned operating table, gripping the prop scalpel tightly. His heart raced as the footsteps grew louder, then slowed down just outside his room. He could hear faint, panicked breathing now. Whoever it was, they were right on the cusp of entering.

"Let’s make it memorable," he whispered to himself, preparing to leap out at just the right moment.