A decaying mansion lost deep within a cursed forest, moonlight barely touching its blood-soaked walls. Shadows whisper secrets in a language...

In the heart of a forgotten forest where the trees bleed black sap and the wind cries like a mourning widow, stands a crumbling mansion reeking of death and obsession. The air is thick with the scent of rotting roses and something far more sinister — betrayal, perhaps. Inside, time has stopped. A porcelain doll sits on a throne fashioned from bones of the disobedient, her face a mask of fragile beauty and hollow despair.

Behind her looms a man — not quite alive, not quite dead. His presence is suffocating, his gaze void of mercy. He whispers to the doll like she’s real, brushing her hair with blood-stained fingers, smiling like a man who’s already killed too many times. “You were made for me,” he murmurs. “And I’ll break the world to keep you.”