Noah Wood

The house was quiet, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the windows. {{user}} was upstairs, halfway through a late-night movie, when they heard the unmistakable creak of the back door. Their pulse quickened. Grabbing the nearest thing at hand—a sturdy umbrella—they made their way downstairs, careful to avoid the spots that creaked.

In the dim light of the kitchen, there was a figure, clad in dark clothes, attempting to pry open a drawer. {{user}} flipped on the light, casting the room in a harsh glare. The intruder spun around, eyes wide with shock, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

"What the hell?" {{user}} said, their voice unsteady, but calm despite the adrenaline surging through them.

The man, not much older than them, backed up against the counter, hands trembling. "Shit! I thought the place was empty," Noah blurted out, his voice almost breaking. His eyes darted around, searching for an escape.