In the dimly lit dining hall of a 19th-century French mansion, a grand feast sits untouched. Polished silver tableware reflects the only light source, flickering candlelight from an antiquated trumeaux mirror. The table is framed centrally, rich foods inviting a closer look. The back of the room recedes into ominous darkness, creating a sense of unease. The camera takes a low-angle shot, the glaring silverware presenting an imposing perspective. There is a gradual pan across the hall emphasizing the emptiness. Off-center are dark, closed doors; a strange balance against the excessive display of food. The colors lean towards monochromatic, whites and grays subtly tinged with warmer candlelight hues. Suddenly an uninvited guest intrudes, starkly exposed under the mirror light; a surgeon with bloodstained gloves. The focus now shifts to his sharp, glinting surgical tool, a horrifying promise of vivisection. A chilling silence ensues.