The vanishing sunlight passed through the window of the shabby dark carriage, bumping noisily along the dirt road towards the diminutive farming community. A pair of dark umber eyes peered out the window, taking in the darkening sky and the pale harvest moon unveiling itself for the night. His pale hands wrung restlessly in his lap before running absently
through his longish ebony locks. As the carriage slowly approached the gates of the community, the passenger in the carriage gathered his black-leather bag and prepared to step into his mystery.
The dark-haired stranger took in the new surroundings of the unrefined town, gazing upwards as if the sky were a promise of impending doom. He gulped one last time and made his way into the town, attempting to give off an air of confidence. The rough dirt roads were shrouded in white fog, concealing any threat they might pose; the man hastened his trek gazing at the dank, dingy homes. As the darkness closed in around him, he caught a glimpse of a faint light up a small hill off in the distance.
He strutted confidently up the grassy hill dragging his faithful bag along. The crickets’ calls dimmed somewhat as he reached the porch of the expansive, impressive home and the laughter and lights seemed to chase away the inward fear the stranger had become accustomed to. He swiftly ambled up the creaky wooden stairs and pushed the wooden door. Just then, stifled heavy breathing shook him out of his complacency. Beside the door, he glimpsed a startled grey-haired man holding a young maid against the window shutter. Pretending not to notice, he looked away and pushed the door open.
An overwhelming air of cheer and laughter greeted the young man, instantly brightening up his hopeless mood. The bright light invited him inside and he made a quick decision to seek out the owner of the festive home. Once he found him, he would discuss the fine details of the murder case wreaking havoc on the lives of the villagers.
He wove through the crowd of villagers expertly, keen eyes looking out for the wealthiest man in the house- surely he’d be the owner. A lilting fair voice caught his ear and through a circle of men, he could see a young woman, no more than eighteen, stumbling around holding her hands out. Her eyes were covered with a blindfold and her blonde curls fell over her shoulders…