The mansion looms like a corpse in the moonlight, its shattered windows watching silently. The heavy door creaks shut behind you, sealing you inside. Your flashlight flickers—buzz, then dies. You hit it sharply; it flares weakly back to life, casting trembling shadows along a hallway that stretches endlessly. The air turns cold, the kind that sinks into your bones. Bare footsteps echo behind you—slow, deliberate, relentless. You don’t dare look back. Ahead, a door stands cracked open, spilling pale light onto the floor. You rush inside. Your foot sinks into something wet and sticky—dark blood pooling cold and heavy beneath you. “Ew, gross!” you mutter, cringing. The metallic scent floods your senses. Your breath catches. From the darkness, a figure moves—pale, silent, eyes like endless voids. Before you can react, a cold hand clamps over your mouth. Sharp fangs pierce your neck, slow and precise. Pain blooms, then spreads—a fire that chills, burning ice coursing through your veins. Your vision blurs. The world tilts. His breath is ice on your skin as darkness swallows you whole.