Crimson Blade in the Night

The large but somewhat empty lounge seemed rather strange and creepy in the light of the moon leaking through the gaps in the old shutters. The silence permeated the whole mansion but in this room, the whistling of the night breeze was especially eerie.

Suddenly quiet but steady steppes' noise sounded out on the pavement leading to the front door, which was slightly opened. Soon, in the foggy night, a blurry figure of a man with an ax on his shoulders came bit by bit closer to the building constructed at least a century ago. He didn't increase his speed, as an assured predator taking the last steps toward his prey.

After the man entered through the door, he stopped. After a brief inspection, he walked to the northern side of the lounge, where he pulled one of the candlesticks on the wall, then with a crackling noise, a hidden door opened with some difficulties. The man stepped calmly inside.

Not long later, desperate cries sounded out, and a figure covered in fresh blood rushed out to the front door leading to the garden. As he was just about to reach the entrance, a shadow leaped at him from behind. There were no cries anymore. His head was cleanly chopped down with the bloody blade of the ax.

The assassin, who was in all likelihood a professional serial murderer considering his undisturbed motions and expression on his face, with considerable wariness splashed some sticky liquid around in the house, and to not leave any evidence burned down the whole major. It was done with the utmost care and with ultimate expertise. No witnesses, no remaining clues, and no possibility of his identity being revealed during an investigation.