THE DEVIL SON

The cold wind howled through the thick, towering trees of the Blackwood forest, carrying whispers of ancient curses. Isabella wrapped her cloak tighter around her shoulders as her carriage came to a halt before the iron gates of the cursed estate. The estate had a name -Drakmoor- but it was more than a name. It was a place of legend, of shadows, of whispers in the dark.



"Miss Isabella," the coachman's voice trembled as he opened the door. "We've arrived."



Isabella took a deep breath, stepping out into the night. The gates creaked open as if by magic, revealing the looming, gothic mansion ahead. Its tall spires pierced the sky, and the air around it seemed colder, darker, like the night itself was afraid of what lay inside.