The Fireman

Neither girl could have guessed what came next. The pair were in the process of changing clothes when the fire alarm sounded. It was right after ball practice and neither one of the girls wanted to head to their modeling gig dressed in their gym shorts and T-shirts, so they had returned to the empty dorm to freshen up a bit. Pausing in the middle of dressing the two exchanged a glance of shock and started toward the nearest exit. Outside the door of their quite dorm room and down the hall he had pulled the fire alarm right after tossing his concoction into a vacant room. Combining brake fluid with bleach he caused a chemical reaction that would rapidly fill the building with smoke, a thick, white choking stench that would cover his covert movements.
When the girls burst from their room in a panic, neither one anywhere near fully dressed, he ran toward them, waving his arms and pointing toward the back stairs. “That way!” He commanded, his voice distorted by his breathing mask, the visor hiding his features from the unsuspecting pair. “Head that way!” Clothed head to toe in fire fighting regalia as he was, neither girl questioned his presence, or how quickly he had managed to get there. Instead, both turned on their bare heels and ran as quickly as they could their the gathering, suffocating smoke.