Round 2 Transcript

The darkness of the night seeps further into the isolated house, casting long shadows across the walls as the creak of the floorboard beneath The Force's weight echoes through the hall leading to the kitchen and stairwell.

I freeze mid-thought, every nerve in my body screaming alarm. Someone's in my house. The creak was too loud for the old floorboards to be shifting on their own—too deliberate. I grab the iron poker from the hearth with shaking hands, its weight solid and reassuring as I creep toward the hall entrance. My heart hammers in my chest like a trip-hammer, and I have to force myself to breathe quietly. Whoever it is, they're close to the kitchen now—likely heading for the back door or the stairs. If I move fast and quietly, I can get to the phone and call for help before they realize where I am. One step at a time, poker ready.

The floorboard creaked again, closer this time—definitely not the house settling. She stood silent in the dark front room, listening past the rain. Two loaded handguns lay heavy at her hips; the flashlight clutched in her left hand swept a narrow beam across the stone fireplace and the empty chair beside it like a ghost waiting. The kitchen hallway gaped black beyond the doorframe.