My alarm tells me you are in my house. My gun tells me not for long

My alarm tells me you are in my house. My gun tells me not for long

The sound of my alarm blaring through the house jolted me awake in the middle of the night. My heart raced as I realized that someone had broken into my home. I reached for the gun that I kept hidden under my pillow, my fingers wrapping around the cold metal as I prepared to defend myself.

As I crept through the darkened hallway, my senses on high alert, I could hear the intruder moving around in the living room. The adrenaline surged through my veins, my grip tightening on the gun as I approached the source of the noise. I could feel the weight of the weapon in my hand, a sense of power and protection coursing through me.

The intruder must have heard me coming, because suddenly the room fell silent. I could sense their presence, their breathing heavy and labored. I raised the gun, my finger hovering over the trigger, ready to confront whoever had dared to invade my home.

A figure emerged from the shadows, their face obscured by a mask. I could see the glint of a weapon in their hand, and I knew that this was a fight for survival. My alarm had warned me of their presence, but it was my gun that would determine their fate.

I took a deep breath, steadying my aim as I prepared to defend myself. The intruder made a sudden move, lunging towards me with a menacing intent. Without hesitation, I pulled the trigger, the sound of the gunshot echoing through the room.

As the intruder fell to the ground, I felt a surge of relief wash over me. My gun had served its purpose, protecting me from harm and ensuring my safety. I knew that I would never hesitate to use it again if the need arose, for in that moment, it had been my only defense against a threat in my own home.