The kitchen was dark, and flicking the switch made no difference: the light must have burned out. Sandra sighed, and took three careful steps towards the refrigerator, feeling her way by sliding her feet. As she shifted her weight to take the fourth step, and hand came out of the darkness and closed over her mouth.
"Do not fear--" said a soft voice, which cut off in a grunt as Sandra stomped down on its owner's foot, then elbowed him in the belly, then smashed the back of her fist down into his crotch. She pivoted, and caught him in the face with a palm strike just as he started to duck, then grabbed his head and added another knee to the groin and followed it up with a tight, snapping heel-kick that dislocated his kneecap. She could tell from the feel of the impact, and from the way he suddenly collapsed onto his side, gasping.
"Wait!" he wheezed, but she kicked him again anyway: ribs and kidneys, then forearms and head when he curled up to try to protect himself. He tried to roll away, but she followed, still stomping and kicking.
Then Samantha was in the doorway, a tiny figure who should have been utterly vulnerable, even with the intruder on the floor. Instead, with that uncanny knowledge of where she needed to be and what she needed to do, she called: "Mom! Taser!" and tossed something to Sandra. By the time Sandra caught it, Samantha was out of the doorway and gone.
Sandra flipped the taser around, pulled the trigger by feel, and jabbed the contacts into the intruder's neck. Tasers weren't anywhere near as non-lethal as most people thought, but she didn't care. Anybody who had managed to slip into her house unnoticed needed to be put down hard. She held the trigger down, juicing the guy until the batteries ran dry.