The night sky turned fiery red as the moon climbed in the sky, spreading its blood-tinged glow over the darkened forest down in the mountains. In its eerie light, Blackthorn Manor emerged from the mist of dark magic—an ancient structure, grand, timeless, and impossible, yet so very real. The manor's twisted spires reached out like skeletal fingers, beckoning those who dared to enter. The lush green tendrils covered the walls and ground like death.

Vivienne stood at the entrance, her dark red gown a striking compliment against her pale skin, glimmering in the crimson moonlight, eyes fixed on the road leading to the manor. They would arrive soon. The chosen ones. The invites had been long given. Drawn by promises, whispers of dreams, and desires. They always came. The manor had that kind of pull. Or maybe the pull of desires cannot be ignored.

A smile played on her lips as she listened to the breeze, carrying faint echoes of laughter, despair, and forgotten screams in the manor. Her hunger stirred, her mouth salivated, the familiar pang of thirst creeping through her veins to her black heart. It had been a hundred years since the manor had last awoken. So long since she had tasted the sweetness of a soul fully consumed by its own desire. The sweetness of a living human with a beating heart and glowing soul.

The invitations had been sent. Five strangers, each unaware of what waited for them, each carrying their own burdens, drawn to the manor like moths to a flame. Drawn to her and the promises she made. They would walk through those gates with expectations. But Blackthorn Manor never gave—only took.

A rustling in the distance broke the silence. Vivienne's gaze shifted as headlights pierced the fog. The first of them had arrived. She straightened, her expression cool and composed, though her heart thrummed with excitement. The change in fragrance in the air tempted her. 

The game was about to begin. 

As the car stopped before the wrought-iron gates, she whispered to the night, "Welcome to Blackthorn Manor."

And with that, the doors creaked open, inviting the first guest into the darkness within.

They always come. But none ever left.