Round 1 Transcript

I sit alone in my front sitting room. The house is quiet. Too quiet. I don't remember inviting anyone here. I check the lamp on the side table—it's heavy brass, could make a good club if needed—and listen to the rain outside. The woods feel closer tonight. I keep my distance from the windows, moving instead toward the kitchen where I can reach the knives if something goes wrong.

I am here for the job and I know what needs doing. The woods outside are too quiet after the rain stopped. Something feels wrong about this house, but that's just noise in my head—the work is simple: find her, close distance, end it. I move through the front room toward the kitchen where she might be hiding. My hand is already on a gun.