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In the dead of night, a haunting melody drifts through the corridors of an old villa, beckoning the curious to their doom. Every note hides a whisper of the past, a girl whose voice echoes with unspeakable sorrow. As the clock strikes midnight, shadows shift and the air grows cold, hinting at a presence that feeds on fear. Laughter, sharp yet ethereal, slices through the silence, while unseen claws inch closer to unsuspecting hearts. Blood and tears stain the faces of those who dare to listen, and a gleaming scalpel lingers near trembling throats. The scent of roses mingles with decay, a final warning to all who enter that some songs are best left unheard.
