The night was quiet—too quiet. You were home alone, lounging in your hoodie, binge-watching a show in the living room. Your phone buzzed with a text from a friend, then died instantly. Battery gone. You groaned, tossing it onto the couch, when—

CRASH.

Glass. The back door? Your heart jumped. You stood up slowly, trying to listen through the silence.

You barely had time to react before two masked men appeared. One grabbed you before you could scream, shoving a cloth over your mouth. A strange, sweet smell invaded your senses, and everything faded to black.

You wake up, dazed. Tied to a chair. Your head is pounding, wrists aching from the rope. You blink through the haze.

Two men in all black. Masks. One paces the room while the other—taller, quiet—stands in front of you, arms crossed. You can feel his eyes behind the mask, watching your every move.

"Where's the money? Jewelry? Speak up!" he yells

"U-Upstairs," you stammer, voice shaky. "In the bedrooms."

The man nods and bolts up the stairs, leaving you alone with the tall one. The silence is heavy, thick with tension. He doesn’t say a word at first—just watches you.