Run: 2026-09-23-01M37PMTDQSYDBGTFARFNHNVGZ

The storm arrived at Blackwood Manor just before midnight struck. Inside, eight guests gathered near the fireplace, sipping warm brandy. Lord Ashford stood by the window, watching lightning split clouds. His wife, Eleanor, whispered something sharp to the young butler. Nobody noticed when the old grandfather clock suddenly stopped ticking. Then every candle in the drawing room flickered and died. A woman screamed, and glass shattered somewhere in the darkness. When the lights returned, Lord Ashford lay upon the carpet. A silver letter opener protruded from his motionless, bloodied chest. Detective Mara Quinn set down her glass and sighed heavily. "Nobody leaves this room," she said, her voice perfectly calm. Outside, the storm raged on, sealing every road from town. Somewhere among these trembling guests, a killer was smiling quietly.