The fog swirled thickly as Detective Reeves strode up to the old mansion. Crimson stains painted the steps, leading his eye to the crumpled form sprawled on the threshold. He crouched down, examining the corpse's ashen face and staring eyes. "What a mess," Reeves muttered to himself. The man looked to be in his early forties, clad in an expensive suit. A single stab wound pierced his chest. Sirens began to wail in the distance, growing louder. Reeves stood up and surveyed the scene - the front door hung ajar invitingly. He glanced at his watch - 3:47 am. Too early for the body to have been here long. Reeves stepped over the body and pushed the door fully open, revealing a dim foyer lit by a single sconce. "Hello? Police!" Reeves called out, his voice echoing off the walls. No response came back to him, save for the pounding of his own heart. He reached for his gun and proceeded cautiously into the unknown depths of the house, ready for whatever awaited him.