Run: 2026-02-20-01KHXQDRCFQTCDZEPC6CZRYW0Y

The grand estate loomed under storm clouds, its gilded gates creaking ominously as thunder rolled across the desolate moors. Detective Harlan Mercer adjusted his damp trench coat, eyes scanning the gravel drive where footprints vanished into the rain-slicked night. A single candle flickered in the foyer, casting long shadows over the portrait of Lord Blackwood, his smile now sinister. Lady Blackwood stood rigid in her velvet gown, clutching a silver locket that trembled against her pale, unnaturally still fingers. The butler’s voice cracked as he whispered, "The master is in the library—unchanged since the clock struck midnight last evening." Mercer pushed open the heavy oak doors, the scent of cigar smoke and something metallic hanging thick in the oppressive silence. Lord Blackwood sat slumped in his leather chair, a crystal glass shattered beside him, his face frozen in eternal surprise. Blood pooled darkly on the Persian rug, its edges creeping toward the fireplace where embers glowed like accusing eyes. A single playing card—the Ace of Spades—was tucked into the dead man’s waistcoat, its edges slightly singed by unseen flames. Mercer knelt, gloved fingers brushing the card, as the wind howled through broken windows like a mournful, warning dirge.