Barbara spots a carboard box next to the castle, and she goes closer
to inspect. As you watch her slowly open the flaps, a strange feeling
starts in the pit of your stomach. Barbara screams at the top of her
lungs and stumbles backwards. You run over to help her up and glance
into the box. There are mutilated puppy heads piled in the box. The
stench is unbearable. Dried blood is in every crevace of the poor
puppies faces. Their eyes are a dark shade of vermillion from the
caked in dried blood. Some puppies eyeballs are hanging out of their
sockets.