Round 1

As Jeane sat alone in the front sitting room, the oppressive silence seemed to cling to her like a shroud. Her gaze darted nervously around the space, the heavy brass lamp on the side table a potential club if needed, its weight a reassuring presence. The rain pattered against the windows, a steady drumbeat that underscored the unease growing within her. She edged closer to the kitchen, her eyes fixed on the knives lined up like sentinels, ready to defend herself if necessary.

The Force moved with purpose, her footsteps silent on the hardwood floor as she entered the room. Her hand rested on the grip of her gun, a comforting weight that seemed to anchor her to the task at hand. Her eyes scanned the space, searching for any sign of movement or life. The woods outside remained quiet, their darkness a palpable presence, but it was the house itself that seemed to be holding its breath, waiting to see what would happen next.