The mist hung heavy over the dark, lonely mansion as the first light of dawn crept across the faded gardens and pea gravel drive. Inside, a muffled scream pierced the haunted halls, quickly silenced by the sharp, hollow thud of a heavy object striking flesh and bone. Detective Raven Thorne strode up the winding driveway, his keen eyes scanning the gothic facade for clues, his instincts already humming. A maid, ashen-faced and trembling, greeted him at the heavy oak door, her whispered words of a grisly crime sending a chill down his spine. In the opulent study, amid shattered glass from a brandy glass and overturned furniture, the lifeless body of the patriarch lay in a pool of blood.