The moment you stepped foot in the palace, you felt a presence. Was it the walls slowly caving in on you? Or was it the marble floors sinking with every step you took?

You hold your flashlight up to a marvellous painting. The royal family that had been assassinated 500 years ago. You reach up to feel the texture of the oil paints. Your fingertips barely hovering over, when you feel the edge of a blade rest on your neck.

“Remove your blood stained hands from my family at once.”