Round 10

In the dimly lit front sitting room, Jeane's grip on the brass lamp base tightened as she strained to hear any sign of movement beyond the creaking floorboard. The rain lashed against the windows, creating a cacophony that made it difficult to discern the sound of her own heartbeat. Her eyes darted toward the open back door, a rectangle of blackness that seemed to swallow all light. She had memorized every inch of this house, but tonight it felt like a labyrinth designed to trap her.

The Force moved with calculated precision, her flashlight beam dancing down the dark hall as she approached the kitchen. The air was heavy with tension, the only sound the soft groan of the floorboards beneath her feet. Jeane's hand instinctively went to the knife in her other hand, a reassuring weight that seemed to anchor her to the present moment. She had confirmed the intruder's presence, and now she was ready to face them. The Force's footsteps echoed through the room, growing louder with each step.