**The Southern Gothic**
The estate of Blackwood Manor sat amidst the suffocating humidity of the Mississippi Delta, a decaying monument to a glory that had long since rotted away. The house was a skeletal thing, its white paint peeling like dead skin, its wrap-around porches sagging under the weight of a century of secrets. Here, the air was thick with the scent of jasmine and stagnant swamp water, and the heat was a...
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