The Crimson Enigma
The Mississippi heat hung over the Beaumont estate like a shroud, thick and suffocating, carrying the scent of magnolia blossoms and decay in equal measure. Elias Beaumont stood on the veranda, watching dust devils dance across the parched earth, and wondered if his grandfather's madness had been inherited or earned. The estate had been dying for generations, each Beaumont draining it a little...
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