Run: 2026-02-16-01KHM5Q3EG57NWBM3WJBJA2ZTP

A single candle flickered upon the vast mahogany desk in the silent, shadowed library. Lord Ashford's hand still clutched the fountain pen, its tip embedding a final, desperate word into the parchment. His head rested peacefully upon the polished wood, a dark circle staining his temple. The study’s French doors stood slightly ajar, whispering secrets to the stormy night beyond. I observed the peculiar, almost orderly, arrangement of three chess pieces beside his elbow. Each piece was positioned with an unsettling, geometric precision upon the leather blotter. A pawn, a knight, and a king were bathed in that trembling light. The air carried a faint, incongruous scent of gardenias mingling with gunsmoke and old books. I knew then that his quiet pose was a meticulously constructed lie for visitors. Nothing in this room, not even the corpse, was truly out of place.