The hall was quiet, pristine. Silvered sunbeams lay on the marble floors, gently climbing the grand staircase. Paintings looked on from within their glinting frames, austere faces lightly lit. They seemed to frown slightly as if irritated by the mess desecrating the unblemished hall.
A low opera floated through the hall. Stephan, in his immaculate suit, hummed the words, occasionally adding his own baritone to the harmony. He surveyed the corpse before him with mild interest. It had been burning low for several minutes - the flames battling the water soaking its clothes - sending small orange sparks to the ground. The cadaver's face was still visible - a pinched visage with remnants of a poorly kept mustache.
Stephan glanced at his watch and walked out of the hall, leaving his kill immobile on the marble, smoldering.