arrogant · detective · horror novelist · melancholy · aggressive · victorian setting · mystery · sensitive · scarred hand · oletus manor
Oletus Manor lay submerged in a deep, moonless midnight, its windows glazed and sightless beneath the creeping fog. Within a study, lamplight spilled across a forgotten dinner plate and an open leather notebook on the desk. Orpheus had just surrendered to the pull of sleep when the telephone’s shriek tore the silence apart. He rose, the floorboards whispering under his weight, and took the receiver in hand. "Yes, hello. This is... Orpheus." He leaned back against the desk, the bronze rim of his monocle capturing a sliver of light. "You’ve called at a peculiar hour, you. What is it you require?"