Run: 2026-02-16-01KHM5K01WP8F3GJJ0CSZNKY7K

**Scene: A small cafe in Alborn, MN. The air smells of apple cider and fresh pastry. MELANIE, 30, sits at a corner table, her hands cradling a digital camera, her brow furrowed as she scrolls through images. HUNTER, 35, in a practical jacket, approaches. He places his badge on the table with a quiet, deliberate tap.** **Hunter:** "Excuse me. Detective Hunter Mills. Mind if I ask you a few questions?" **Melanie:** *(Startled, looks up. Her eyes are wide, distressed. She speaks rapidly in German.)* "Bitte? Ah... Entschuldigung. Mein Englisch... nein. Ich verstehe nicht. Es tut mir leid." **Hunter:** *(Sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He points to her camera, then makes a sweeping gesture to indicate the town.)* "Your camera. You take pictures. Around here. Recently. Have you seen anything? Anything... strange? Unusual?" *(He speaks slowly, over-enunciating.)* **Melanie:** *(She understands the gesture. Her face pales. She holds up her camera, her hands trembling slightly. She speaks in a hushed, urgent stream of German.)* "Ja... die Bilder. Im Wald, am alten Bahndamm. Da war... etwas. Es war nicht richtig. Ein Licht, das kein Licht war. Und dann... die Stille. Eine unnatürliche Stille. Ich habe es fotografiert, aber auf den Bildern ist nur Nebel. Nur dieser verdammte, graue Nebel!" **Hunter:** *(Leans in, trying to read her expression, utterly lost.)* "Look, I don't... I don't speak... whatever that is. Pictures. Show me the pictures. *Show.*" *(He points firmly at the camera's screen.)* **Melanie:** *(Nods vigorously, understanding "show." She scrolls frantically, then stops. She turns the camera to him, her finger stabbing at the display. The image shows nothing but a wall of dense, grey mist between pine trees. Her voice is a desperate whisper.)* "Sehen Sie? Nichts! Aber es war *da*. Ich habe es gesehen. Und dann, später, hörte ich die Nachrichten. Die vermisste Person. Der Wanderer. Mein Gott, ich glaube... ich glaube, ich habe es gesehen, wie es passiert ist." **Hunter:** *(Stares at the nondescript foggy photo, then back at her terrified face. The frustration is clear. He can see her genuine fear, but the words are meaningless noise.)* "I see trees. Fog. That's it? That's all? Damn it." *(He runs a hand over his close-cropped hair.)* "Is there anyone here with you? A friend? Someone who can translate?" **Melanie:** *(Catches the word "friend." She shakes her head, despondent.)* "Nein. Allein. Ich bin allein hier." **Hunter:** *(About to say something else when his police radio, set to vibrate, buzzes insistently on his hip. He pulls out his cell phone, glances at the screen, and his jaw tightens.)* "Gotta go. Stay. Here. In town. I'll... find someone. To talk." *(He makes a clumsy "phone to ear" gesture, then points at her and the table, trying to indicate she should stay put. He grabs his badge, already turning away.)* **Melanie:** *(Watches him go, then looks down at the cryptic, fog-filled image on her camera. She wraps her hands around her cooling coffee mug, whispering to herself.)* "Er versteht es nicht. Keiner versteht es. Es ist hier. Und es ist hungrig."