The old mansion loomed ominously in the moonlight, its windows like dark, lifeless eyes staring into the night. Detective Sarah Blackwood stepped out of her car, her breath visible in the crisp autumn air. A uniformed officer approached, his face grim as he gestured toward the grand entrance of the house. "The victim's in the study, ma'am," he said quietly, his voice barely audible above the whisper of wind. Sarah nodded, steeling herself for what lay ahead as she climbed the worn stone steps to the door. The heavy oak creaked open, revealing a dimly lit foyer adorned with dusty antiques and faded portraits. A trail of muddy footprints led deeper into the house, each one a silent testimony to the crime. Following the trail, Sarah's hand instinctively brushed against her holstered weapon as she neared the study door. She paused, listening intently for any sound within, but only eerie silence greeted her straining ears. With a deep breath, she pushed open the door, revealing a scene of violence frozen in time.