Run: 2026-09-23-01M36TQX510TB85MBXRPXN0DQD

The rain hammered against the windows of Blackwood Manor as the elegant guests gathered for dinner that fateful Thursday evening. Lady Evelyn Ashworth, the beloved matriarch of this grand estate, sat at the head of the oak table, smiling warmly. Her only son, Richard Ashworth, arrived embarrassingly late, reeking of expensive cologne and cheap gin from some seaside tavern downtown. His sister Charlotte watched him through cold green eyes, her fingers tightening on her wine glass with barely concealed disgust. Across the table, the family solicitor James Whitmore scribbled nervously in his leather notebook throughout the entire tense dinner conversation. Nobody truly ate the rich beef stew that Mrs. Pemberton had so lovingly prepared for everyone gathered around the table. At precisely nine o'clock that night, the grand chandelier flickered and a bloodcurdling scream shattered the silence of Blackwood Manor. Lady Evelyn lay sprawled on the staircase, her pearl necklace broken and scattered like tiny iridescent tears across cold marble. Nobody claimed to hear anything unusual before that scream, yet every single guest wore guilt upon their pale trembling faces. In the distance, a clock struck ten, and the storm outside seemed to mirror the dark secrets within Blackwood Manor.