The old grandfather clock chimed midnight through the silent house. Librarian Elara Vance tidied the last of the scattered books. A strange, sweet coppery smell drifted from the history aisle. She followed the scent past shelves of ancient, leather-bound books. Lord Ashworth was slumped over his enormous, polished oak desk. A silver letter opener was embedded deep within his chest. His vacant eyes stared at a half-written, cryptic final note. Dark crimson had stained the pages of a priceless atlas. Elara Vance stood frozen, her quiet, orderly world now shattered. A single scream was trapped behind her suddenly trembling lips.