The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Umm, ravens are splattered everywhere on the stained glass ceiling of a decrepit, Gothic-arched aviary, like, their mangled bodies seeping a sticky, iridescent goo that's slowly dripping onto a thick, crimson-stained rug below. A heavy stillness hangs in the air, thick with the stench of rot and death, and outside, the pale, moonlit sky casts an eerie glow through the shattered panes, casting twisted, occult symbols from the Picatrix across the floor. Shattered, gemstone-encrusted bones somehow knit themselves back together, reforming into macabre sculptures that... just twitch and shudder.