In the heart of an old, misty village, behind the creaking gates of Hawthorne Manor, a shadow slipped silently inside. Thomas the caretaner, unaware of the lurking danger, hummed a tune as he polished the ancient silverware in the dining hall. As the village clock struck midnight, a piercing scream shattered the peaceful night, echoing through the corridors and up to the starless sky. Margaret, the cook, was the first to find the body, laying cold in the library, with a book clutched in its hand. The serene expression on Mr. Hawthorne's face belied the violent circumstances of his untimely death, puzzling everyone present in the gloomy manor.