Round 1

In the darkness of the front sitting room, Jeane gripped the brass lamp's metal base, its weight a reassuring presence in her hand. The faint glow from the dying ember in the fireplace cast eerie shadows on the walls as she moved toward the narrow hallway to the kitchen, the house keys still hanging on their hook like a cruel taunt. The floorboards creaked beneath her feet, a sound that echoed through the stillness like a gunshot.

Outside, the rain pounded against the windows, a relentless drumbeat that seemed to grow louder with every step Jeane took. She knew she had to find the phone to call for help, but the kitchen was just down the hall, and the back door was too close, its proximity making the keys on the hook a tempting but deadly distraction. The air was heavy with tension as Jeane navigated the dark, silent house, her senses on high alert for any sign of movement.