Run: 2026-09-24-01M39VGACK1GVMPS5MW5JGQFD7

The heavy rain lashed violently against the gothic windows of Blackwood Manor, blurring the world outside into a grey smear. Inside the cavernous entrance hall, Mrs. Pettigrew shuffled towards the library, her single candle flickering nervously in the cold draft. The massive oak door stood suspiciously ajar, revealing a single sliver of darkness that seemed to breathe within the shadows. Pushing it open with a trembling hand, she quietly whispered the old lord's name into the vast, silent emptiness ahead. Her flickering candlelight finally found him slumped awkwardly in his high-backed chair, a dark crimson stain spreading across his chest. The heavy brass candlestick slipped from her suddenly numb fingers, hitting the floor with a deafening clang that echoed everywhere. Lord Blackwood was definitely dead, his sightless eyes staring accusingly at the ceiling, and someone had clearly murdered him tonight.