((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?!"