((Kind of a novel idea here, really, piqued my interest))
*After spending a few nights in a janitorial closet, I grope around for the handle. After hearing the firearm discharging, I figured that now'd be a good time as any to get caught as a stow away. I finally find the door handle, and push it open, tumbling out of the closet in a jumbled mess of rope and cleaning supplies. I stand up slowly, taking in my surroundings, and nearly collapse on my knees. The smell of death is thick. I eventually cope, and pick up a mop, tapping about.* "Hello? What happened, is anyone still alive?!"