Desmond entered with the rest. If you could hear acutely in this silence, you would find the tiny sounds of Ghan's gears and cogs clunking and turning within him. The stitcher's goggles pierced through the darkness and revealed the dangers that could pose a threat to them.

Septimius and Jessica took the front, entering the pitch black room as Septimius lifted up his flaring candle, and the others followed suit out of curiosity. The first thing they saw was the bed, neatly made, with a sealed envelope placed on top of it. The thing that shocked them was the blood. All over the wall there was seemingly fresh crimson red blood, and it clearly spelt out "20"

Desmond approached the bed and looked at the envelope with curiosity. The bloody twenty on the wall was unnerving but he's seen more blood than this.

He took his time in opening the envelope and took out its contents for all to see.

Septimius covered his mouth and gagged as he observed the freshly painted 20. It was in blood and it was disgusting.It made him realize that though the riddles were childish they were still fighting something that was willing to kill them without a moment hesitation. He clapped his hands together and wished that the person who's blood was spilled for this purpose found solace.

Ravin perused the book, learning it's every signature and every notation. He grew to love these customers, whose purchases, in his eyes, told a deep story. Ms. Hastings did not buy her two pound beef flank as she did every two weeks. Could this mean a change in her money situation? And Mr. Trevylan, that gentleman he admired. He bought such exotic and varied goods that Ravin couldn't help but envy his options for his palate. And what was this! Why, his recent purchases had now marked two pounds of beef flank! My oh my, how the plot thickened!

"Friends, you shan't believe what new development has taken place!" Ravin followed his group into this new room at the bottom of the stairs, where an admittedly far more interesting development was taking place. There was a bed and a letter that Desmond was opening, but what piqued his interest was the bloody 20 on the wall. Ravin walked over to it and inspected it.

"Well, this is certainly interesting. We can assume this has something to do with the contents of the letter. But what I find cutious is that this blood is fresh. Why, how could they know that we would be here in time for the blood to still be fresh? And how did they clean up in time for us to not see them? How in the world did they do it?"

The envelope was simple as Desmond opened it. It was writing, in the same style in which the riddles were written. However, this was more of a direction than a riddle.

You have made it far. Go to the cemetery on the outskirts of Ravenholt to find your next step.

"We're to head to the cemetery," Desmond said grimly. Ghan watched his master intently.

I've graverobbed that cemetery more times than I can count on the fingers of those bodies I stole. Luckily, some of those bodies no longer have hands but still. Its a lot. Desmond thought to himself, his face turned dark.

Ghan put his hand on the stitcher's shoulder and nodded to him as in assurance that its fine. I feel far from fine going back there.

Its been a while, master, Ghan started. I'm sure the dead forgets.

The dead never forget, Ghan. All they can do is remember. Desmond said. A tiny whisper calls to Desmond and he turns around.

What is it? Ghan said.

Something. Desmond gulped. As he looked past Jessica and the rest. Must be...in my head again.

"Well then... someine will have to guide I certainly don't know where that is... and I assume it has something to do with what's written on the wall that you all have talked about" Jessica turned to her companions "I'll follow right next to the one in the front. Let's get going shall we?" She said with a smile.

"Jessica, the wall has the number twenty written with fresh blood on it," Desmond informed. "I'm sure Ravin can identify if its human?"

Ghan walked out of the room, investigating the weird whisper only Desmond heard.

"I can lead the way to the cemetery," the stitcher said. "I've... gone there a lot of times before. For reasons you might suspect."

"Now hold on a moment!" Ravin turned and pointed his arm at the 20 "Was this all a red, or in this case Crimson herring? Why! Let me see the paper for a moment"

He took the note and inspected every square inch, convinced that he was missing something

"A 20 uh?" She smiled "Thanks for reading that for me... I kinda forgot how to write the numbers..." saying the last sentence in a kind of embarassed tone she quickly continued "I'll be right next to you Desmond. Also Ravin, I think we didn't miss anything".

"The cemetary? That is an interesting development. Perhaps I will learn more about the one who brought me back while we are there." Ahriman says as the group prepares to exit the butcher's shop.

"You want to know if this is blood? Because I've tasted blood of nearly every sentient walking creature on this planet, I can tell you if it's blood!" He walked briskly to the 20, , swiped up some of it on his finger, and placed it inside his mouth. "I can tell you if it's blood. If anything, proving it is blood will sour my mood further, because that raises the question again of why waste the blood?"

Waste.

"Why would vampires waste blood?" Desmond wondered. "I doubt they would go to such lengths to waste this much to scare us or leave an unnerving clue. Blood is their only source of food, even if they're nobles or commoners wasting is frowned upon."

Another whisper passed through his thoughts. It was more distinct now, a female's but too distant to make out words if she was saying anything. Desmond shivered.