The second floor was eerily silent, each creak of the floorboards echoing like thunder. We moved quickly but cautiously, the weight of Eleanor's words pressing down on us.

Victor's study was as grotesque as the man himself. The walls were lined with decayed books, the air heavy with the stench of mildew and rot. In the corner stood a massive oak desk, its surface covered in layers of dust.

"There," Tom said, pointing to a small, barely noticeable drawer.

Rena knelt and tugged at it, revealing a tarnished silver knife nestled inside.

"That's it," she said, holding it up. The blade seemed to hum faintly as if it knew its purpose.

Before we could move, the air grew colder. A low growl reverberated through the room, and then he was there.

Victor.

His monstrous form was even more horrifying up close. His skin was mottled and blackened, his eyes burning with unholy light. He lunged at us with a snarl, his claws swiping through the air.

"Run!" I screamed, ducking just in time.

We scattered, the narrow space making it almost impossible to avoid his attacks. Tom grabbed a broken chair leg and swung it at Victor, only to have it splinter into pieces.

"It's useless!" Rena shouted. "We need the knife!"

Victor turned his fiery gaze on me, and for a moment, I was frozen. Then, with every ounce of courage I could muster, I lunged at him, the knife gripped tightly in my hand.

The blade sank into his chest, the black liquid began to leak out of his thick fur and Victor let out a blood-curdling scream. His body convulsed, the monstrous form melting away to reveal the man he once was.

For a brief moment, his eyes softened.

"Eleanor?" he whispered before collapsing to the floor, lifeless.