The air hung heavy with the scent of damp earth and the lingering chill of incarceration as Sabrina Scott stepped out of the prison gates. The address clutched in her hand felt like a death sentence rather than a bail slip. A long bus ride, punctuated by the growing gloom of dusk, brought her to an old, imposing mansion halfway up a desolate mountain.

Inside, a doorman led her to a bedroom cloaked in an oppressive darkness, thick with the metallic tang of blood. Before her eyes could adjust, strong arms seized her, pulling her into a man's chilling embrace. A hot breath ghosted against her ear, laced with a sneer. "So, you are what they sent for me to enjoy before my death, the... call girl?"

Sabrina's world fractured. Tears welled, her voice a fragile tremor. "Are you... dying soon?"

"Yes! Do you regret doing my business?" The man's voice was a soft, cruel whisper. She didn't. Her mother's life depended on this. Hours later, the man's breathing evened out. Fear, raw and primal, propelled her from the mansion, into the unforgiving downpour. She ran, blindly, towards the Lynn Residence, a beacon of false hope in the stormy night.