The corridor outside the painter's room had already returned to silence.
Joseph, the guard, was long gone, with the only sounds in the mansion being the quiet ticking of a clock somewhere beyond the walls.
Several minutes later, the painter finally moved.
He straightened from the table slowly, brushing invisible dust from the sleeve of his white shirt before reaching for the black coat draped over the back of a chair. The fabric slid smoothly over his shoulders as he walked toward the far side of the room.
One of the walls looked like solid wood paneling.
He pressed his palm lightly against a section beside the bookshelf. A quiet mechanical hum answered him as the panel slid open, revealing a narrow elevator hidden behind the wall.
He stepped inside.
The doors closed without a sound.
The elevator descended.
When it opened again, the air was colder.
