The quiet pattering of feet were loud enough to cut through the darkness. They were like a beacon. A call. To her side. 

The sound of mortal men became apparent, and four of them appeared. Having never been in this part of he manor before, they each looked around in wonder and surprise. They were dressed in ragged garments, smoking on half chewed cigars and further defiling the Warwick name. Not that it mattered at this point.

"Who knew these rich folk had a whole 'nother level here?"

"I'm glad we didn't come here first. This place reeks!"

"Shut up and keep looking. The girl ran down here, right? She can lead us to more of her family's goodies. If not, then she'll at least keep us busy for the night."

"Hey! Over there!" The men located the fleeing girl and ceased her by the arms. One of them produced a jagged knife and held it to her throat. "Say now, you wanna help make us rich? I guarantee it'll be worth your life, heh."

They figured that she would lead them to more spoils to steal, so they dragged the girl in the direction she was heading. The basement. All of them sneered at the pathetic attempt of a camp she had put up merely to ensure her own survival.

"All you rich folk are like worms," one of them muttered. "Snakes that will step on anyone to make sure you survive on top." They then proceeded to kick down the girl's tiny fort in mere spite.

That's when they noticed the body in the far corner of the darkness. A corpse more like it. It looked too old to be anything recent, ancient even. Ignoring the smell coming off from it, the men smirked at the girl.

"See that man? You'll be looking like him real soon if you keep silent, girl."