Elias let out a ragged sob of relief and pocketed the wooden piece. He turned toward the basement door, the flashlight in his other hand flickering. "I'll be back," he said.

Sarah looked at the tower. It was nearly hollowed out at the base. "If you touch it, it’s over. You know what happened to Miller."

From the shadows of the rafters above Sarah, a pale, elongated hand reached down. The tower hadn't fallen because of a pull—it had fallen because their time was simply up. If you want to turn this into a playable game, tell me: