Round 2

As the darkness deepened, Jeane's heart continued to pound in her chest, the iron poker clutched tightly in her hand as she edged toward the kitchen. The Force moved swiftly, her boots making barely a sound on the floor, her eyes fixed on the narrow hallway that led to the back door and the stairs. She stood silent, listening past the rain, her senses on high alert for any sign of movement.

Jeane's thoughts were consumed by the creaking floorboard, her mind racing with worst-case scenarios as she forced herself to breathe quietly. The air was heavy with the scent of rain and something else, something unsettling and wrong. Her gaze darted toward the back door, her hand tightening on the poker's handle.

The Force took a step forward, her flashlight beam dancing across the stone fireplace, illuminating the empty chair beside it like a ghost waiting. She listened intently, her ears straining to pick up any sound that might indicate the intruder's presence. The silence was oppressive, punctuated only by the occasional creak of the old house settling into the night.