Detective Jameson stepped into the grand foyer of Ravenswood Manor, greeted by the faint scent of old books and decay. The doorman, a man named Jenkins, handed him a black and silver badge that didn't match his wedding rings. A chill ran down Jameson's spine as he stared at the figure standing behind the reception desk, shrouded in shadows. His eyes locked onto the figure, which vanished into thin air with an eerie whisper, "not going anywhere."