The night was eerily silent, save for the distant hoot of an owl. Detective Harper stood at the threshold, his trench coat flapping in the breeze. The mansion loomed ominously, its gothic architecture casting long, sinister shadows. A single light flickered in the window, hinting at unseen horrors within. Harper's flashlight cut through the darkness, revealing a cobblestone path slick with dew. Each step echoed through the courtyard, a stark reminder of his solitude. The heavy oak door creaked open, revealing a grand foyer bathed in shadows. A crystal chandelier swayed gently, its fractured light dancing across the marble floor. Harper's eyes scanned the room, noting the intricate patterns of the Persian rug. A faint scent of lavender lingered in the air, mingling with something metallic. The sound of his own breathing was unnervingly loud in the oppressive silence. He approached the grand staircase, its banister carved with scenes of medieval debauchery. At the foot of the stairs, a trail of crimson droplets caught his attention. Harper knelt to examine them, his fingers brushing the cold, damp stone. The blood was fresh, its sticky texture a grim testament to recent violence. He followed the trail, each drop leading deeper into the heart of the mansion. The corridor was lined with portraits, their eyes seeming to follow his every move. A sudden gust of wind slammed a door shut, making him jump in surprise. Harper reached a heavy wooden door, its surface etched with ancient runes and symbols. With a deep breath, he pushed it open, revealing the scene of the crime.