The Rotting Heart of Blackwood Manor
The humidity of the Mississippi Delta does not just cling to the skin; it seeps into the bone, carrying with it the scent of river mud and slow decay. Blackwood Manor had once been the crown jewel of the county, a sprawling Gothic monstrosity of white pillars and weeping willows. Now, it was a skeletal remains of a dynasty, its paint peeling like dead skin, its hallways echoing with the ghosts...
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