Eagles possess a unique ability: they can sense the breath of life. Vultures in the desert, too, have a remarkable skill—they can swiftly locate the corpses of dead creatures. Even when a creature is on the verge of death, they can detect it. Once found, they circle high in the sky, patiently awaiting its final moments.

The rain continued to fall.

Lee stared deeply into the eyes of the eagle in the painting. The eagle's gaze was so profound that he couldn't decipher its meaning. He only felt himself shrinking, while the eagle's eyes grew sharper and more piercing.

Just then, the sound of a flute drifted in from outside.

The melody was monotonous and cold, carrying a deep sense of sorrow. Yet, it seemed to strike directly at the heart, pulling listeners into the world the flute sought to convey.

The flute's song seemed to narrate a tragic love story—beginning with the excitement and joy of a first encounter, moving through the doubts and friction of a budding relationship, and finally arriving at the bliss and ecstasy of love. The tune then took a playful turn, weaving through various styles and evoking a hazy, spring-like atmosphere.

Suddenly, a clap of thunder roared, jolting Lee from his immersion in the flute's melody.

He moved to the window and gazed out toward the source of the flute's haunting melody. It was an old house that had once belonged to a glorious noble family. The darkness outside was impenetrable, offering no clues. Meanwhile, the rain intensified, shifting from a gentle drizzle to a relentless downpour. Icy raindrops lashed against the sycamore tree, their leaves trembling as if weeping in the wind.

Suddenly, a jagged bolt of lightning, serpentine and brilliant, split the sky. In its brief illumination, Lee thought he saw a figure—a woman in white with flowing hair, standing beneath the slender sycamore tree, a small red umbrella in hand. She faced away from him.

Her frame appeared unnaturally small, almost childlike, unlike that of an adult.

After a moment's hesitation, he snatched his umbrella and sprinted into the storm. The distance was short—just a few dozen meters—but the rain was so heavy that his glasses were instantly blurred.

Reaching the tree, Lee wiped the water from his hair and turned on his flashlight. To his bewilderment, the woman was gone. Had it been a trick of the light? Or something more sinister—a specter toying with his senses? Lee had always prided himself on his sharp perception, but tonight, the world seemed to blur at the edges, leaving him questioning what was real.

Lee forced a bitter smile and decided to head back. Standing in such a relentless downpour was anything but pleasant. Just as he was about to move, a deep, guttural breathing sound echoed from behind him.

Could it be the woman in white? But would a young girl have such a harsh and unsettling breath? Puzzled, Lee turned around and saw two cold, glowing green eyes staring at him from the darkness.

His heart lurched. He directed the faint beam of his flashlight toward the creature. It had a massive, imposing frame—reminiscent of a wolf, yet far larger, similar to a dog, but infinitely more ferocious.

The monster, its eyes glinting with an eerie green light, stood motionless. Its breathing grew heavier and more labored with each passing second. Lee was certain that if he turned and fled, the creature would immediately pounce and tear into him.

His soaked clothes clung to his body, adding to the weight of his unease. But the burden in his heart was even heavier. He hadn't found the woman in white; instead, he had encountered this terrifying beast. At least the creature hadn't ambushed him in the dark—otherwise, Lee wasn't sure how he would have survived.

Summoning his composure, Lee tightened his grip on the umbrella. Its slender, steel tip was sharp and sturdy—perhaps enough to defend himself against this monstrous animal.

With this thought, Lee felt a wave of determination wash over him. He straightened his posture and locked his gaze coldly with the creature's glowing green eyes.

The beast seemed to sense his newfound resolve. It hesitated briefly, let out a couple of sharp barks, then fell silent. It took two cautious steps forward, as if testing Lee's courage, but when he stood firm, unflinching, it retreated a step instead.

Lee's tension eased slightly. The creature's barking betrayed its own fear—a feeble attempt to intimidate him. But he couldn't afford to stand there indefinitely; the relentless rain was becoming unbearable. Gripping the umbrella tightly in his right hand, he slowly bent down, feigning to pick up a stone to hurl at it.

The creature seemed to anticipate his move. Its aggressive stance wavered, and it let out a low, uneasy whine before tucking its tail between its legs and slinking away into the darkness.

Lee exhaled deeply, releasing a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Relieved, he turned and hurried back to seek shelter from the downpour.

Unbeknownst to him, in a shadowy corner of the old house, a figure stood motionless, silently observing the entire scene. Thunder rumbled and lightning flashed, casting brief illumination on the figure's appearance—a face etched with deep wrinkles, a hunched back, and long, unkempt white hair that framed its features like a specter from a nightmare.