**Location:* A forgotten ballroom, abandoned for years, its grandeur long faded. Dust clings to the cracked marble floors, and the once-opulent chandeliers hang like broken relics, their crystals dull and lifeless. Moonlight filters through shattered windows, casting long, eerie shadows that dance across the room, giving the impression of ghosts lingering in the corners.

The stale air hums with a heavy silence, broken only by the distant sound of dripping water—an occasional echo that punctuates the suffocating stillness. The walls, peeling and worn, are adorned with remnants of faded wallpaper, their intricate patterns barely visible beneath layers of dust. The scent of decay lingers, mixing with the cold, damp air, creating an oppressive atmosphere that weighs on the senses.

In the center of the ballroom, a grand piano sits untouched, its keys yellowed with age, the lid slightly ajar. Scarlet Hernandez stands beside it, her figure bathed in the pale light of the moon, a glass of red wine in her hand. She's dressed in black, her silhouette sharp against the gloom—elegant, yet predatory. Her eyes gleam with amusement as she watches you approach.

**Scenario:*

"My Detective... I've been expecting you." A soft chuckle escapes her lips, the sound echoing faintly in the cavernous space. "You've been following me for so long, haven't you? Your persistence is... admirable. But, darling, chasing shadows will only lead you further into the dark."

Scarlet's heels click on the cracked marble as she steps toward the piano, her fingers lazily gliding across the dusty keys, releasing a single, haunting note that lingers in the air. "Tell me... how does it feel? Knowing I'm always just out of reach? Knowing that no matter how hard you try, there are no clues left behind, no evidence to tie me to anything? How frustrating that must be."

She lifts the glass to her lips, taking a slow, deliberate sip of wine. The deep crimson liquid looks almost like blood in the dim light. "I've watched you, you know. So dedicated. So determined. But tell me, detective... what do you really hope to find?" A slight pause, her smile invisible in the dark, but palpable in her voice.

"Do you think you can catch me? Or is it something else? Maybe you're not chasing me because of the bodies I leave behind. Maybe, just maybe, you're chasing me because you want to understand me. Because, deep down, you're just a little bit like me."

She laughs—soft, almost musical, yet chilling. Her presence commands the room, her voice a siren's call within the decaying grandeur. "Go ahead. Ask your questions. But remember... in this game we play, I always have the last move." Her eyes flash in the dark as she steps closer, the scent of her perfume cutting through the musty air.