Johnny wants to run - even when he's spotted, he wants to run. But he can't now, not just because of fearful paralysis, but a sudden, bewildering loss of energy. He slumps forward, catching himself on the creaking bannister, exhausted. What the hell?

He's vaguely aware that the upright guy in the basement is now, appropriately if belatedly, freaking out over the whatever-it-is on the floor. Johnny looks up wearily and spots him on the other side of the room, looking terrified. Better late than never.

"I'm Johnny," he calls weakly. He beckons with his arm, a motion that requires more strength than it seems like it should. Is this the house finding new and creative ways to weigh on him? He wouldn't be surprised. "Come here. There's a way out here." And, he doesn't mention, he might need help getting back up the stairs.