Mr. Smith was consumed with grief and anger as he stood by his son's lifeless body. He couldn't fathom who would have done such a heinous act.
As he examined John's neck, he noticed that the cut was frozen, indicating that the killer must have had mastery over the element of ice.
But Mr. Smith had no idea who could have committed such a crime, or where they were now. Little did he know that the killer was already in town, resting at the inn just a few blocks away.
Levi, the man who had taken John's life, was now waking up from a deep slumber. He rubbed his eyes, feeling refreshed and energized after a good night's rest. "That was a good sleep," he muttered to himself, stretching his arms and legs.
He looked around the room, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. The walls were made of rough-hewn wood, and the floorboards creaked under his feet as he got out of bed. He realized that he was in an inn, probably the cheapest one he could find in the town.