VICTOR’S POV
The servant, a middle-aged man, led me deep into the mansion’s sprawling interior.
We navigated through a series of quiet hallways until we stepped into a massive, glass-domed inbuilt garden.
The air inside should have smelled of fresh earth and vibrant flora, but instead, a heavy, suffocating decay hung in the atmosphere.
He guided me along a stone path toward the far corner of the greenhouse, pointing a trembling finger toward the vegetable patches.
"Look there, sir," he whispered, his voice laced with anxiety.
As we walked closer, I noticed the stark transformation of the landscape.
The soil in this particular section had turned unnaturally dark, almost charcoal black, radiating an unsettling chill.
In the center of this dead zone stood a small plant whose leaves
