September had to keep still in her floral cobalt camouflage. She eyed round herself & could see through the ligurian blinds sharp frog eyes & the sharper points o’ arrowheads.
‘Stead, she squirmed slightly down the mattress, millimeter by millimeter, without seeming to move her limbs @ all. Meanwhile her bovine pajamas soaked with sweat @ the prospect o’ being jabbed in the neck with the most toxic needle in all the realms.
Then her plan was botched by 1 unforeseen evil: a loose spring. When her feet reached it, they bounced high in the air. The millisecond she felt her feet bump it, she tumbled to the side, only to immediately feel 3 arrows pierce her back as she rolled off the mattress.
& there was where they still found her, petrified in plastic.