Some playroom. It was long and narrow, with bookcases lining the wall to his left. Each of the bookcases was completely filled, and as Stanley looked closer, he saw that the books were numbered. Starting from the top left, the spines were lined up in sequence: one, two, three, and so on. The books at the beginning of the order were simple picture books. But as the numbers grew, so did the difficulty. The entire Harry Potter series, the Lord of the Rings trilogy, the Chronicles of Narnia, and a slew of other fantasy titles comprised multiple shelves, and those were only halfway through the numbered sequence. The kid was definitely the son of a librarian.

A multicolored rug covered most of the hardwood floor. The pattern and numbers on it suggested it was used for games of some sort, though Stanley couldn’t decipher what it was or how it worked. The place looked more and more like a surplus shop for Nerds ’R’ Us. On the far wall were two large toy chests, and to their right, a set of ceiling-high cabinets. Stanley figured they were filled with test tubes and microscopes, but they also made perfect hiding places.

What interested Stanley most was the feature in the middle of the room, the one that extended down from the ceiling: a ladder, leading to the attic. Stanley was disappointed that his chase was already over. It was an obvious trap. A person would have to be dumber than bricks to fall for it.

Stanley advanced up the ladder backward. The groan of the stairs would draw them out eventually. They were probably counting the number of steps, waiting for him to enter the darkness of the attic. Stanley creaked the third step twice, just to mess with them. He might as well make it fun.

He got to the last step, right before the attic floor, and stopped. And waited. He turned his head and shouted into the attic. “Give it up! There’s no other way out!” He almost laughed saying it.

A minute later he heard one of the toy chests squeak open, followed by the sound of two small feet hitting the floor. He couldn’t see him, but he could hear the kid coming up, getting ready to spring the trap. Stanley felt a push on the ladder, but his weight held it in place. And then the kid, to his amazement, walked around to the front of the ladder. He grabbed the bottom and struggled to lift it before he noticed the imposing figure standing right above him.

“Hello,” Stanley said politely. “I wish I didn’t have to do this.” He raised his gun and pointed it at Charlie. He caught the boy’s eyes glancing at something over Stanley’s right shoulder. The floor creaked.