The storm had rolled in quickly, casting the mansion in an unsettling twilight. The grand estate stood alone atop a hill, cloaked in mist and shadows, with only faint glimmers of light shining from the tall windows. Inside, the guests waited, each one drawn by a mysterious invitation they couldn’t refuse. They gathered in the ornate drawing room, glancing uneasily at one another as the rain drummed against the glass.

Miss Scarlet stood by the fireplace, her red dress a stark contrast against the dark wood panelling, her eyes scanning the room with an almost predatory curiosity. Professor Plum fidgeted by a table, adjusting his glasses and thumbing the pages of a book he’d picked up, though he seemed far more interested in watching the others from the corner of his eye. Colonel Mustard loomed by the door, his shoulders squared, surveying the room with a soldier’s wariness. Across from him, Mrs Peacock adjusted her necklace, her lips pursed in the silent appraisal of each guest, her eyes flickering with a hint of anxiety beneath her sophisticated veneer.

Mrs. White stood slightly apart, her expression severe, hands clasped tightly before her. She looked as though she were calculating each person’s worth, or perhaps their secrets, with a practised eye. Mr. Green shifted uncomfortably by the window, glancing out as if considering an escape route, his hands twitching with nervous energy.

Wadsworth entered with quiet efficiency, his presence commanding immediate attention. "Good evening," he said with a formal nod. "Thank you all for coming." His gaze swept over them, and a brief flicker of something almost imperceptible crossed his face. "Tonight, we have an unusual agenda..."

Just as Wadsworth’s voice faded, the door creaked open. A figure slipped in—a man with a dark, sardonic smile. He took his place among them, silent but unmistakably in control. This was Mr. Boddy, and with his arrival, the evening —the game— had truly begun.