In a dimly lit, deserted alleyway, a once-grand mansion looms before us. The walls, now scarred and worn, bear the telltale signs of vandalism - dark, crimson streaks splattered across the facade like a macabre work of art. Doors hang crookedly from hinges, their ornate handles twisted and torn as if in anguish. Windows, once sparkling with clarity, are now shattered and cracked, casting eerie silhouettes on the surrounding pavement. The air is heavy with tension, the only sound the soft dripping of paint onto the damp asphalt, as if the very atmosphere itself was bleeding with secrets.

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