Ethan could hear the sound of footsteps surrounding him. He rose and moved to a large oak tree lit up by blue and red lights like a Christmas tree. A yellow eye began to scan around in all directions; he crouched down by some white shrubs. As the eye passed, Ethan moved towards a hut just twenty yards in front of him. The wind began to pick up again, sending a chill down his spine. The whole area began to grow colder; he could hardly feel his finger tips. Even the snow accumulating on the grass began to freeze over into thick, black ice. Ethan checked for any signs of life before making his move.The hut seemed rotten, with snow seeping in through the cracks. The wooden boards at the base of the structure were beginning to chip away.The door was padlocked and the hinges were frozen over. Soon the yellow eye came round again, and Ethan quickly hopped round to the side of the hut and ducked down, allowing the light to bounce off the roof away from him. The image of the man now moving down the street stunned Ethan. The man moved forwards, furtively sticking to the shadows that carved their way into the pavement every other metre. He stopped for a moment as the CCTV camera on the lamp post adjusted itself to the left. He waited for the ten-second loop before swiftly crossing the street. Then he approached the house, with its visible security alarm, and silently went inside. The faint noise of sirens began to emerge from a distance. Ethan slowly stood up with his right leg, using his left arm to support his left leg. As quietly as possible, Ethan smashed the glass window at the side of the hut and stepped inside, being careful not to cut himself on the glass. He sat down on the floor, resting his leg as his face contorted in agony. He looked up at the damp in the corner, and was consumed by his thoughts. The man moved past the sitting room and tiptoed towards the kitchen at the end of the corridor. The noise of a kettle boiling
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