The lights are off when you arrive home and flicking the switch to turn them on does little to dispel the oppressive mood. The spacious rooms feel unnaturally empty in Gerard's absence. You've grown accustomed to the ghoul greeting you at the end of the night, but of course he has business to attend to on your behalf—he can't be here all the time.
So why are your muscles tense? Why the pricked nerves and disturbing sense of discomfort?
You search the outer chamber thoroughly, but nothing seems out of place. Maybe you'll feel better once you've had a good day's sleep. You put your gun back in its case before opening the door to your bedroom half-expecting to find an uninvited guest sitting on your luxurious bed. Nothing. Not even a sound. You twitch involuntarily at a delicate scraping of metal from the front room, and it takes a moment to register that it's only Gerard unlocking the front door.
"Sir?" the ghoul calls out.
"I'm here," you reply from the bedroom. "I just got in."
"That's for the best," Gerard says. "I need a word with you before you retire for the day.