The rain fell hard on cobblestones, echoing through the silent, empty streets of the ancient seaside town. A lone figure stumbled through the downpour, clutching a bloodied scarf tight against a jagged gash. Gasping for breath, the person reached the grand oak door of a dimly lit manor house. Thunder cracked overhead just as the door creaked open, revealing a butler with wide, startled eyes. Behind him, the grand foyer shimmered with candlelight, shadows stretching like fingers across richly woven Persian rugs. The injured guest collapsed forward, whispering three final words before going still on the polished marble floor. The butler dropped the candlestick, its clatter breaking the silence, and began shouting for the master of the house. Upstairs, a clock struck midnight, each chime reverberating through the halls like a mournful, warning heartbeat. In the study, a pipe smoldered in an ashtray beside a half-finished letter signed ominously with a red “X.”