Round 8

As Jeane's grip on the lamp tightened, a heavy metal drawer slammed shut in the kitchen, its solid base now resting on the countertop. The air was thick with tension as she backed away from the dark doorway, her eyes fixed on the spot where The Force entered the kitchen. Shadows danced on the walls, making it seem as though The Force lurked just out of sight, waiting for her next move. Jeane's knuckles were white with tension as she held the lamp ready, her voice shaking but steady. "Who the fuck are you?" she demanded, her words echoing through the kitchen. "Get out of my house now or I'm calling the police."

The Force moved through the kitchen with purpose, her eyes scanning the space for any signs of danger. She checked the back door, found it locked, and then opened a drawer quietly, revealing a collection of sharp knives within. Her head tilted slightly as she listened, the house feeling wrong, too quiet, like something was holding its breath. She pulled out the heaviest knife, a carving set, and gripped it firmly with her right hand while keeping a gun ready in her left.