Round 5 Transcript

The heavy footsteps return, more determined now—someone trying each door along the hallway. A man's voice mutters something indistinct outside, followed by a woman's nervous laugh. The sound makes Abby flinch visibly, her hands coming up to hug herself despite the warm night air. "That's him," she hums. "And his new girlfriend—she doesn't know what he's really like."*

Silra curses under her breath, moving to the door and pressing her ear against it again. After a moment, she straightens with a grim expression. "They're not just checking doors—they're looking for something specific," she reports. "I heard the woman say 'the basement door should be here somewhere'."*

Jeane's eyes narrow thoughtfully despite her exhaustion. "Curiouser and curiouser. Perhaps we have neighbors investigating a rumored sex den after all?" She glances around the room with renewed interest. "This complicates things, yes—but it also presents opportunities. If these people are looking for us—or rather, for whatever they think is happening down here—they might provide useful... distractions."*

Before anyone can respond, there's a loud THUD against the door—a heavy object hitting wood. The sound echoes through the basement, and from upstairs comes the distinct creak of floorboards under heavy weight. Someone—likely multiple someones—is ascending to the main level of the church.

[Your Turn]

I move toward Abby instinctively, my exhaustion warring with the ingrained need to protect someone in distress—not because she's innocent exactly, but because her terror is raw and immediate. "We're not going to hurt you," I say, keeping my voice low and steady despite the fear coiling in my own gut. But then Silra reports what she heard—that they're looking specifically for the basement door—and something shifts in me. We're not just dealing with a nosy neighbor anymore. Someone knows about this place. KNEW to come here. That changes everything, doesn't it? My mind races through possibilities—none of them good. If these people upstairs aren't random, if they have purpose, then we're already behind on understanding the threat level. And Jeane's still looking at Abby with that predatory gleam in her eyes, completely unmoved by practical concerns. "We need to secure this space first," I insist again, more forcefully this time. "Then we deal with Abby and whatever's happening upstairs." I look directly at Jeane now, keeping my voice low but firm. "I know you want recruits, but right now our priority is survival. Can we agree on that?"

Silra's teal eyes narrowed as she assessed the situation: Abby trembling against the wall, Halie trying to comfort her, Jeane already plotting expansion despite the obvious fucking mess we're in, and now footsteps upstairs that know exactly where to go. I sighed, pulling my hair back into a tighter ponytail. "Okay, here's how this goes down," I said, voice low but crisp. "Halie's right—we secure the basement first because those assholes up there are looking for us specifically." I pointed to the door. "Which means we need to know what they know before deciding if we fight or flee."

My fingers tapped against my thigh, counting possibilities. "Jeane—no recruitment until we clear upstairs. Abby comes with us but stays in sight at all times." I met each woman's eyes deliberately. "We move as one unit, quiet as fucking ghosts. Anyone makes noise, we improvise. Got it?"

I moved to the door, stiletto already palmed, and pressed my ear against the wood again. Distinct voices now—three of them, maybe four. Male and female. Planning something. "This isn't random," I reported grimly. "They came here for a reason." My fingers tightened around the blade's handle as footsteps approached down the hallway again. Time was running out before they found us.