(no subject)

[eye_and_heart]

Once again, Henry Lascelles is dead. His body, now cold, has been left unceremoniously in a hall in one of the Mansion's upper floors, as full of holes as Swiss cheese. A pistol lies at his side, where it fell from his limp white hand. His blood will probably leave a stain on the carpet, too.

Oh, he'll probably be back in time, but for now - it's just an unpleasant little surprise for someone roaming the halls to come across.