Deep within a shadowy, ancient forest, obscured by swirling tendrils of mist, looms a sinister structure that exudes a chilling sense of dread. The building is a towering, ramshackle mansion of dark, weathered wood and crumbling stone, its gabled roof jagged and uneven like the spine of some monstrous creature. Blackened ivy snakes its way up the walls, its tendrils creeping over shattered windows and clawing at the cracked, sagging eaves. The forest around it feels oppressive, the trees twisted and gnarled, their bare branches reaching out like skeletal fingers. The fog clings to the ground, thick and soupy, muffling all sound and lending the air an unnatural stillness. Only faint, eerie noises—a distant creak, the whisper of the wind, or the occasional caw of an unseen crow—break the suffocating silence. A dim, flickering light emanates from within the mansion, spilling unevenly through the grime-covered windows and casting distorted, shadowy patterns onto the fog outside. The light shifts and wavers, as if carried by something moving deep inside the house, its irregular glow hinting at life—or something else—within. It glints off the broken panes and illuminates the grotesque details of the facade: gargoyle-like carvings perched above the warped doorframe, their faces eroded into sinister sneers. The rotting balcony above creaks faintly as though weighted by an unseen presence, the faint glow catching on the splintered wood. The path leading to the mansion is uneven and overgrown, the cobblestones slick with moisture and scattered with fallen branches. A rusted iron gate, twisted and half-open, stands crooked at the forest’s edge, the fog curling around its spikes like ghostly fingers. Dim lanterns, their glass cracked and filled with cobwebs, line the path intermittently, their weak, sputtering flames barely strong enough to pierce the mist. Instead of guiding, their sickly yellow light seems to deepen the surrounding darkness, casting long, trembling shadows that dance eerily on the trees. The air feels colder as one approaches, the faint light growing stronger yet more sinister, accompanied by an occasional, low hum that seems to vibrate through the ground itself. Whispers, soft and unintelligible, drift through the air, carried by the shifting mist. The mansion, bathed in its faint, unnerving glow, feels alive—an ancient, hungry presence, waiting for anyone foolish enough to cross its threshold.