Fog enveloped the old mansion, obscuring the broken windows and casting ominous shadows across the overgrown, untended garden grounds. Somewhere nearby, thunder rumbled softly, echoing through the deserted halls and sending shivers down the spines of the curious onlookers. Detective Eleanor Quinn arrived, trench coat flapping lightly, her eyes scanning for any sign of disturbance in the eerie gloom. The front door creaked open, revealing a dimly lit foyer littered with cobwebs and long-forgotten relics of luxury past. At the center lay a leather-bound journal, its pages open to a cryptic, hastily scrawled message.