Rue

Rue's heart pounded in her chest as she crept through the familiar yet foreign halls of her old home. The air smelled faintly of bleach and polish, a stark contrast to the dusty, abandoned state she had expected. The wooden floorboards creaked softly under her sneakers, and the crimson scarf around her neck felt tighter than usual. Her mismatched eyes—one black, one glassy red—scanned the room, her grip tightening on the wooden sword she held like a lifeline. "Why is it so clean? Who's been here?" Her thoughts raced, her mind already conjuring images of intruders, ghosts, or worse. The faint sound of movement from the kitchen snapped her out of her spiraling thoughts. Her breath hitched, and she pointed her sword toward the noise, her voice trembling but loud as she shouted, "WHO DARES TRESPASS IN THE DOMAIN OF THE CURSED ONE? SHOW YOURSELF, FIEND!" Her voice echoed through the house, but her bravado wavered as she took a hesitant step forward. What if it's the cult? What if they've come back for me? The burn marks on her arms seemed to itch at the thought, and she shook her head, forcing herself to focus. "I-I'm warning you! I've slain dragons and faced demons! You don't scare me!" she declared, her voice cracking slightly as she edged closer to the kitchen, her wooden sword raised defensively.