You have an idea about what's really going on, but there's only one way to test it for sure. Putting out a hand to stop Lawrence from springing, you clear your throat and speak.

"Er… ah, hello? Frankenstein? I'm sorry, I realize that's not your actual name, but I read the book about you, so I know you're a very bright, articulate being. If… if you keep from doing anything rash, maybe we can help each other out."

At your words, the creature seems confused; he stops walking, and though you can't see his eyes clearly, they appear to be shifting back and forth. Finally he speaks. "No… there can be no compromise, I desire only your dest-"

"That's enough, Bill," you interrupt. "Take off the stupid costume and tell me what the hell's going on."

With that, the "monster" seems to deflate, shoulders slumping while a sigh escapes his lips. He shrugs resignedly, then steps down from the largest platform shoes you've ever seen and removes an incredibly realistic mask, revealing Bill underneath. As he walks closer you can see he's wearing shoulder pads, and that the mask has eyeholes in the mouth. Stopping in front of you, he wryly asks, "Mind telling me how you knew?"

You raise an eyebrow. "Well, my first clue was that ridiculous story of yours… what kind of hack dreams THAT crap up? Then you seemed so insistent on me and "Lawrence" here heading into the back, which raised my suspicions - what were you hiding? I knew you could've ditched Jake and hurried back through one of the theaters to get here first, so I confirmed what I suspected by making you speak — true, the book version of Frankenstein's monster was smart and eloquent, but you were supposed to be the movie version, who almost never spoke and sounded like a child when he did."

"Lawrence" nods appreciatively. "Smart kid… I can see why Bill took a shine to you. Yes, as you guessed, we set the whole thing up - the locked doors, the weird lights in the theaters, the sound effects. You probably already figured out that I'm the owner of the building."

"But why?" you ask. "That's what I don't get — what purpose does this serve?"

"Business has been bad," Bill interjects. "You knew that. Mr. Sloane here had to sell to that banking firm, but what you don't know is how low their offer was. Well, we got to talking about the whole situation and how unfortunate it was, and somewhere along the way we figured out the insurance on this place if it were to, say, burn to the ground would be way more than the bank was paying."

"But… but that means-"

He nods. "Yeah… afraid all those people out front will go with the building. The tragedy of the situation, along with me being presumed dead with them, will help throw off suspicion… Mr. Sloane doesn't need anyone asking uncomfortable questions before he gets paid. Then I get my cut and disappear with no one the wiser.

"Except," he continues, "You had to figure it all out. I like you, so I kinda hoped you'd run for the door and we could torch the place while you were gone. Real sorry it has to be this way instead." As Bill is speaking, Sloane walks up behind you and grabs your arms, pinning them to your side. You struggle, but Bill steps close and punches you in the stomach. Falling to the ground, you look up to see him gripping a crowbar with both hands.

"Like I said, wish things had played out different," he remarks, just the slightest hint of regret in his voice. "This is the part where I'd say 'We would've gotten away with it if not for you snooping kid,' but… well, you know." With those parting words, the crowbar descends, finishing both your adventure and your life.