Is there anybody there?

We hear a noise.
The music sounds more unsettled, strident, insistent.
She looks up.
“Is there somebody there?”
Oh yes, there is somebody there. We’ve seen this movie, this sort of movie, before.
“I’ve got a knife!”
Of course she has. Blind fingers fumbling on the kitchen counter until they close upon a knife. But we’ve seen this movie before...
“My husband is on his way home...”
No he isn’t. We ALL know that. If there’s one thing we can be sure of it’s that there is no husband to come home. At least, not in time...
It’s time for a close-up of the knife which will be an inadequate kitchen knife, clutched in a trembling hand. True, this knife doesn’t look inadequate. It looks purposeful and professional. She must take her kitchen, her food, seriously. And the knife doesn’t wobble. This doesn’t change anything. We’ve seen the movie before. It just means that she’s the plucky type. The type to make a fight of it.
Maybe there is a husband after all. We cut to a shot of him in his car, driving home. But then we come back to see the shape of someone in her kitchen. No! It’s more effective if we change our POV so that we see through the intruder’s eyes. For, of course, there IS an intruder. We all knew that there was an intruder. There was never going to be the tension-defusing shot of a cat knocking over a glass. There was always going to be an intruder. And we see... no, HE sees her, coming towards him. With the knife, the professional-looking knife, firmly held. And, a new detail, the knife, the long, professional, serious-looking knife is already smeared with red.
The tempo of the music increases.
We cut back to the husband, heading home. He’s driving fast. But he won’t be in time. He won’t be in time to save anyone.