Round 1

In the depths of the lonely modern house, a lone figure stood resolute, Jeane's voice slicing through the darkness as she addressed the unknown intruder. The brass lamp cast an eerie glow on her tall, demonic form, its light struggling to pierce the shadows that shrouded the room. Her eyes gleamed with a fierce determination, the crimson hue of her eyes burning brighter with each passing moment.

The Force moved with calculated precision, her footsteps silent as she descended into the darkness below. The narrow hall to the kitchen and back door loomed before her, the stairwell hidden from view like a secret passage. She checked each corner and shadow, her gaze lingering on the faint creaking sound that had drawn her attention. The knife drawer beckoned, its contents a potential lifeline in this desperate standoff.