Titus MacArthur was in the middle of a lift when the streetlights flickered out. Under his panting breaths he cursed and sat the Prius down in the parking space in front of him. Dammit. Now he couldn't finish his superset. He grabbed his water and began to walk up the side of the steep hill to the dorm rooms. His breaths were hot and heavy like his footsteps. He approached one of the side doors to the cafeteria and walked in. It was dark inside until an orange flame lit up the room. Slowly he looked around to see if he recognized any familiar faces. Then he remembered that it was dark and that darkness is not a condition condusive to sight. He walked up to the table where the flaming boy was standing and sat down with an echoing "BANG!". Then he slammed mini-fridge of a lunch box down on the table. It was about two feet long and one high, filled with Titus' post-workout snack. From the box he pulled three peanut butter sandwiches, a giant gatorade, and three apples. Noisily he devoured two of the apples, core and all, and spat the seeds into a napkin. 

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Then someone tried to bust the door down. Titus crushed the third apple into pulp as the doors buckled. He stood up violently, sending his already-bending chair skidding across the floor. As soon as the beast ran off down the hall he took off, kicking a table out of his way as he made a b-line for the door. He pulled the handle off of the "push" door and mumbled "fuck!" under his breath. Then he pushed the door and found that it was locked. But a locked door never stopped Titus MacArthur. Without much thought, he kicked the door square in the lock, sending both doors flying backwards and one off of its hinges. What was left of the lock skidded across the floor. Door unlocked. Up ahead he heard the crash of metal and glass. This thing was big, and Titus liked that. It would be a good change to finally fight someone his size. After all, Titus never got a chance to finish his workout. 

He turned the corner just as the...thing hit the wall, causing concrete to shower down from the ceiling. It was not in Titus' nature to dive in headfirst to a fight before calculating his odds of victory. As the cloud of dust descended, Titus let out a mighty barbarian roar and ran at the gigantic beast full speed. Obviously the most logical thing to do when confronted with a gigantic behemoth of a monster with a ridiculous amount of teeth was to tackle it. 

Why, you ask, would Titus MacArthur throw himself headfirst into the literal mouth of hell? You will ask yourself that question many times before this story is over, my friend.