The floor creaked softly underneath his footsteps. He could move silently if he wanted to but why bother? The manor was empty for decades now, it’s last owners rotten to the bone in their graves. You could see the chipped tombstones through the window. The landlords resting place was close to the building where they spent their last breathing moments.
He stopped before the ragged tapestry and took in the whole scene. It was a depiction of a very bloody hunting trip. In the foreground the hounds were ripping to pieces grey rabbit bodies. Trailing close after the dogs was the hunting party with trumpets and rage reflected in their eyes.
The old man likes such paintings, he mused, he thought, the sadist. He was glad that this was the last time he would be looking at all those murky and decayed walls.
He light a match, soon the whole manor, room by room was engulfed in flames. Fire devours mercilessly but it’s also the best purifier.