Round 1

Jeane stood frozen in the front sitting room, her eyes fixed on the dark windows as the silence after the back door's closing seemed to swallow all sound. Her hands instinctively closed around the brass lamp's base, its solid weight a reassuring presence. She grasped the iron poker from the fireplace, holding both weapons at the ready. The room felt vulnerable with its exposed layout, the rain-soaked windows casting a chilling glow on the cold stone floor.

The Force moved through the room with an unnerving fluidity, her muscles attuned to the house's every creak and groan. She paused beside the lamp, her palm brushing against the brass base with a gentle touch before gripping it firmly. The weight of the lamp was reassuring, but she swung it once, low, testing its balance. The sound echoed through the room, a faint metallic clatter that seemed to reverberate off the walls.

As the Force moved on, her gaze shifted to the kitchen, where a soft creak had caught her attention. Her eyes narrowed, focusing on the sound, and she began to move towards it with a stealthy quietness, her footsteps muffled by the thick carpet.