Lightning flashed as Detective Myles stepped into the shadowy room. Thunder roared, echoing like screams in the cavernous, ancient library. The air was thick with dust and the scent of. Flickering candlelight revealed a body, sprawled near a toppled mahogany chair. A book lay open; its pages whispered secrets in the. The detective's eyes scanned the scene, his mind racing rapidly. "When did this ghastly event transpire?" he quizzed the caretaker. With trembling lips, the old man replied, "Just before the." Myles knelt, examining the victim’s contorted face and closed eyes. He noted a strange, crimson symbol marked neatly on hands. This was no ordinary killing; it was cold, calculated ritual.