A baby lay crying in a weathered wicker basket, its tiny voice echoing eerily in the stillness of the night. The basket, frayed at the edges, appeared barely strong enough to hold its delicate cargo. Two thick, coarse blankets, their once vibrant colors now dulled and threadbare, wrapped tightly around the infant, shielding it from the relentless snow that fell in heavy, suffocating sheets. The baby’s skin, pale as the snowflakes that clung to the edges of the basket, was tinged with a bluish hue, a stark contrast to the dark curls peeking out from beneath the blankets.

Behind the infant loomed a massive, ominous structure. The building, constructed from rough-hewn black stone, seemed to absorb all light, standing in stark contrast to the white, snow-covered landscape. Its towering spires reached skyward like twisted fingers, clawing at the stormy heavens. Cracked and weathered by time, the walls were etched with strange, ancient symbols that glowed faintly in the dim light. Narrow, barred windows lined the upper floors, resembling hollow eyes that watched over the desolate surroundings with a silent, menacing presence. The front entrance, a massive iron door, was set deep within a shadowy alcove, its surface marred by deep, rusted gashes as if something had tried to claw its way inside—or out.

As the minutes dragged on, the baby’s cries grew weaker, the sound barely rising above the howling wind. The once frantic wails softened into a pitiful whimper, each breath a struggle against the bitter cold that seeped through the meager protection of the blankets. The snow continued to fall, relentless and uncaring, slowly burying the basket and its fragile occupant in a frozen shroud.

An older man in a sharply tailored butler suit emerged from the eerie building, his polished shoes crunching against the freshly fallen snow. He moved with a cold precision, every step deliberate as he scanned the desolate surroundings. His face was a mask of impassiveness as if the icy wind and biting cold were mere trivialities beneath his notice. 

His eyes, cold and calculating, eventually fell upon the snow-covered basket. For a moment, he stood still, the only movement being the subtle twitch of his thin lips, a sign of growing annoyance. He approached the basket with a slow, deliberate pace, each step betraying a simmering irritation. As he reached the basket, he stared down at the shivering infant with a look that hovered somewhere between disdain and indifference. 

The man's thin, gloved fingers brushed away the snow that had accumulated on the basket's edges, revealing the pitiful sight within. He let out a barely audible sigh, the only indication of his disgust at the situation. His eyes narrowed as he assessed the baby, his expression hardening further as though the child was nothing more than an unwelcome burden that had been thrust upon him.

With a grimace of distaste, he bent down, his movements stiff and reluctant, and lifted the basket slightly to inspect the frail, trembling infant inside. The man’s mouth tightened into a thin line as he muttered something under his breath, his voice laced with irritation. It was clear that the sight of the helpless child stirred no compassion in him—only a deep-seated annoyance at the inconvenience it presented.

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Another figure emerged from the shadowy depths of the sinister building, a woman in her mid-forties, her expression one of impatient curiosity. She was dressed in a long, dark coat that swept the ground as she walked, her sharp features accentuated by the dim light. Her cold and piercing eyes scanned the surroundings before settling on James, who remained hunched over the snow-covered basket.

“James, what’s taking you so long?” She asked, her tone edged with irritation as she crossed her arms, tapping one foot impatiently.

James straightened slowly, turning to face the woman with a look of restrained disdain. “A child was left here,” he replied, his voice flat and devoid of any emotion as though he were simply stating an inconvenient fact. His words hung in the cold air, heavy with the weight of their meaning, but his tone suggested that the child was no more significant than a stray piece of litter.

The woman’s eyebrows arched in surprise, though her expression quickly shifted to one of mild annoyance. She took a few steps closer, peering down at the infant with a mixture of distaste and curiosity as if trying to decide whether the child was worth her attention. The baby, still shivering beneath the blankets, let out a weak cry, but the sound did nothing to soften the woman’s hardened gaze.

“Left here?” she repeated, her voice dripping with disdain. “Who would be foolish enough to do such a thing?” Her eyes flicked back to James as if expecting him to provide an answer, though it was clear she had already dismissed the child as a nuisance.

James merely shrugged, his face betraying no hint of concern or interest. “It seems we’ve been burdened with someone else’s problem,” he replied coolly, his hand still resting on the edge of the basket as though reluctant to fully engage with the situation.

The woman sighed, her impatience growing. “Well, we can’t leave it out here to freeze,” she said, though her words lacked any genuine compassion. She glanced back at the building and then at the basket, clearly weighing her options. “Bring it inside,” she ordered finally, her tone brisk and dismissive. “We’ll figure out what to do with it later.”

James nodded curtly, his expression unchanging as he bent down to lift the basket. The woman turned on her heel and headed back toward the building, her footsteps echoing in the silence as James followed, carrying the child with the same detachment as one might hold a forgotten parcel.

*** *** ***

At the same moment, a man was sprinting away from the ominous black building, his breath coming in ragged gasps, eyes wide with sheer panic. His disheveled clothes clung to his sweat-soaked body, and his feet stumbled in the deep snow as he desperately tried to put as much distance as possible between himself and the looming structure behind him. The terror in his eyes was palpable, as if he had witnessed something unspeakable within those shadowy walls.

Then, without warning, the sharp crack of a gunshot pierced the cold night air. The man jerked violently as the bullet tore through his chest, a crimson stain blossoming against the fabric of his shirt. His momentum carried him forward a few more stumbling steps, his arms flailing uselessly as he struggled to maintain his balance. For a brief, agonizing moment, he stood upright, swaying as if in disbelief, his eyes glazed over with shock and pain.

But then the strength drained from his limbs, and he collapsed to the ground, lifeless. The snow quickly absorbed the blood pooling beneath him, turning the pristine white into a gruesome red. The night fell silent again, save for the soft hiss of falling snow, as the man’s body lay motionless, another victim claimed by the darkness that surrounded the sinister building.