Alvin J.Crow 5

The majority of kids having got through the door, despite struggles and tussles, a doubt or suspicion begins to form.
Which one of them is it? Which one might be the killer or an accomplice of the killer? Accordingly, they slam the door in the face of one boy who lagged behind, leaving him to scratch feebly and beg for mercy at the door. A process of weeding out. The weakest sacrificed.
Shoulda shoved the kid out into the darkness of the wide gallery to meet the approaching killer, left behind in the panic. In their frenzy the kids begin to suspect one another.
Now just a handful of boys and girls rushing through the darkened museum-corridors. Another door is reached and the process is repeated. Those who cram inside first are quick in the frenzy of their fear to seal the door, leaving their slower classmates trapped among dark stretches of corridor. The girls are screaming lock the door lock the fucking door and who knows from the muffled shouts and protestations that boom from all directions in the darkness whether killers or friends are present? Perhaps everyone is a killer?
It seems along the way that others have fallen by the wayside, become separated from the group, some of the boys have apparently stumbled and fallen. One pair however has managed to stick together, girlfriends called Tracey and Sarah, who ran off utterly panicked but nevertheless kept close together, grasping at each other with sweaty hands, comforting each other with their howls of fear.
Now Tracey and Sarah put on a spurt of speed and accelerate into a white-walled stretch of corridor dankly lit by yellowish circular lights. Feeling themselves unencumbered by the rest of the group they cast fervid glances backwards. Their classmates it seems have fallen back, perhaps claimed by the killer. Then, loping awkwardly out of the darkness, they see Alvin, the least popular member of class, who runs stiffly but steadily behind them, keeping pace with their stumbling, frightened rush.