Kinjo didn't bother counting the seconds which turned into minutes. The minutes which slowly turned into hours. In fact he barely allowed himself to softly breathe. He was afraid. Very very afraid. He was shaking but trying hard to mask it. Still he hid in this corner inside a small janitors closet. Masked by shadows and upon a seat of paint cans. He daren't move. He daren't try to leave his hiding place. He did not realize his succesful hiding for so long was making James angrier and angrier. It was close to three in the morning when he dozed off. A tense and jumpy sleep but a sleep nonetheless. Still he never moved. He woke a mere four hours later. Whimpering a bit when he came to realize that he had not been in a very realistic nightmare. That he was really trapped in a horror house. That everything to some extent had been real. He was taking these rare moments of somewhat safety like precious pockets of time. He had a fearful feeling of dread and terror in his soul. Still he could hope that he could keep hiding for a long time. No movement would have been recorded on James's computer as Kinjo literally had made none. He dozed off again for an hour before woke up completely. Looking around. How could he get out of this hell hole? He just wanted to go home to Jason. He didn't even understand why he was here.