Although the bathroom was bright, it felt like the wrong place to be. Sort of like an alley at the wrong hour of the night.

By the time the urge to run arrived, he felt it too late. Right then that urge was overtaken by his

ego

. The desire to maintain some semblance of manhood. Come what may. If someone came out of the stall and jumped him. He would stand his ground. Fight. Instead of shrieking and trying to run.

He thought this. To his horror as the stall door did open. And he saw the ugliest face he had ever seen snarl at him. Stan clenched his jaws. Felt his feet trying to plant down into the tiles through the rubber soul of his shoes.

Long fingers with long, sharp finger nails flew out towards him. Stan tensed his arms and shoulders and lats. Preparing to do something. What? he didn't know. The long nails reached around and clawed the back of his head.

Stan yelled out. His was drowned out mute by the shriek coming from the man with the ugly face.