"He'll find something else he wants." He stepped back after securing the shirt over the vent. "Or punish you for not giving it to him sooner." He searched the room, seeing no other obvious vents.

"He really doesn't like when people lie to him." Mike climbed onto the bed, and started running his fingers along the corner where the wall met the ceiling. And over every crevice he could reach. Looking for even the smallest opening. "He killed you because I didn't admit to being a fed soon enough."