The clock struck midnight, echoing ominously through the dimly lit hall of the old mansion nestled deep within the woods. Detective Clara Morgan stepped over the threshold, her keen eyes taking in the shadows that danced menacingly around her. A chilling breeze rustled the curtains, whispering secrets that hung between the lingering scent of damp wood and musty air. In the center of the grand room, a luxurious rug lay stained, crimson pooling like spilled wine beneath a fallen chandelier. Guests huddled together in shock, their faces pale as death, each one hiding a secret beneath layers of polished velvet. Among them, the victim lay sprawled, eyes wide open, a letter clutched tightly in his cold, lifeless hand. Clara knelt closer, her heart racing as she scanned the scene, piecing together fragments of stories waiting to unfold. She needed answers quickly, for the murderer knew they were surrounded; the night was still young, and danger lurked.