Outside your door, you hear an unnatural howling that raises the hairs on the back of your neck. The sort of noise that can only be made by a human throat, twisted and warped into something sinister... Judging by the claws piercing your door, you conclude it is one of these:
Your door is a cheap, flimsy testament to an age of thin wallets and shifty contractors; soft wood with a hollow center, and showing its years.
To say it would last a minute would be generous.
You now have just under a minute to find something in your room with which to fend off the slasher before it finishes with the door and aerates your torso.
What do you do?
Me, I have both a baseball bat and a machete well within reach... choices, choices. Those arms look spindly, and Isaac seems to have no trouble simply punching them off...

Your door is a cheap, flimsy testament to an age of thin wallets and shifty contractors; soft wood with a hollow center, and showing its years.
To say it would last a minute would be generous.
You now have just under a minute to find something in your room with which to fend off the slasher before it finishes with the door and aerates your torso.
What do you do?
Me, I have both a baseball bat and a machete well within reach... choices, choices. Those arms look spindly, and Isaac seems to have no trouble simply punching them off...