Find a weapon and defend yourself

You glance around the room, looking for anything to use as a weapon, but this is your aunt's guest bedroom -- the most dangerous thing you can see is an ugly pillow with a crooked rose done in sloppy needlepoint. You jerk open the closet door and push aside the hanging clothes, drawing back from the smell of mothballs and stale cigarette smoke. These must have belonged to your uncle. He died of lung cancer when you were just a kid.

You see an old vacuum, a couple of shoe boxes, a golf club--

Grabbing the club, you pull it out. It's just a putter, but it's the only one in the closet. Better than nothing. You shove the closet door closed and turn as the knob on the bedroom door makes a faint noise and begins to turn. You raise the club over your shoulder, like a baseball bat, and prepare to swing. Your heart pounds; you can hardly breathe.

The door eases open and the first thing to appear is a sleek, black handgun. You swing the club like an ax, bringing it down on the gun and knocking it out of its owner's hand. The club snaps in half, the head clattering to the floor beside the gun.

Dropping the useless half of a putter, you dive for the gun as the door is flung open and the intruder charges into the room. You close your hand on the pistol's grip, fumbling to get your finger on the trigger, and cry out as a heavy foot comes down on your wrist, pinning it to the floor. A foot covered in scales with toes that end in pearly claws.

"Drop it!" commands a dry and sibilant voice. You look up, at the human-sized lizard standing over you, and scream. The monster drops on top of you and covers your mouth with one cold, scaly hand. "Quiet, human. I don't want to have to hurt you."