Round 6 Transcript

Jeane (A)
The sound comes again—definitely the back door hinges this time, slow and careful. I drop behind the chair, pressing myself low with my back to its frame. The lamp base goes down beside me on carpeting; no good for defense anyway. The wound in my shoulder screams fresh pain when I shift weight.

The house feels too fucking small now—the open windows show rain, not shadows—but I can't see anything useful through them either. My keys are still on the hook by the door, stupid and useless. The ashtray rolls away when I push it; too light for a weapon anyway. The poker—fuck yes—the iron tool leans beside the fireplace three steps away. Too far to grab without exposing myself in the open archway.

The hallway floorboards creak again, closer now. One person moving deliberately through the kitchen toward me. They're not trying to be quiet anymore; they want me to know exactly where they are. I bite back a whimper—I'm bleeding out slow and no one else is here. The rain outside masks sound. The house has too many shadows. My vision blurs at the edges.

What do I do?

I switfly follow the blood trail, hot on Jeane's heels. It's just I, The Force, and this helpless woman, alone in her house in the woods. What more could possibly go wrong?

My eyes follow the trail to the chair. I take aim and fire another round through the back, hitting Jeane in the same arm. Damn, another miss. I hear her cry out in pain as the hot lead pierces her flesh.