The Eye of the Bayou
The Blackwood Manor sat in the heart of the Louisiana bayou, a rotting skeleton of white pillars and sagging porches, surrounded by a sea of cypress trees and weeping moss. The air was a thick, humid soup that smelled of sulfur and slow decay. Inside the house, the walls were lined with portraits of ancestors whose eyes seemed to follow you with a mixture of hatred and pity. Elias was the last...
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