Run: 2026-02-16-01KHM5W77MWXP8WQTNGEM4MVX7

**Marie:** *[softly, to herself in French]* C'est étrange... chaque photo, ces ombres à la lisière des bois. Comme si elles observaient. (It's strange... every photo, those shadows at the edge of the woods. As if they were watching.) **[The sound of a chair scraping lightly on the cobblestones]** **Hunter:** Excuse me, ma'am? Detective Reed. I’m investigating the... incident last night. Over by the old mill. You were seen in that area yesterday afternoon with your camera. Did you happen to see anything unusual? **Marie:** *[looks up, startled]* Pardon? Je... je ne parle pas anglais. Désolée. (I... I don't speak English. Sorry.) **Hunter:** Right. Okay. The mill. Last night. Did you see anything? *[He gestures vaguely toward the town's edge, then mimes holding a camera and looking through it.]* Pictures? You take pictures? **Marie:** *[understanding dawning, followed by visible unease]* Ah, le vieux moulin... *[Her voice drops, trembling slightly.]* Oui. J’y étais. Pour les paysages. Mais... il y avait quelque chose. Une... une atmosphère. Ce n’était pas juste. (Ah, the old mill... Yes. I was there. For the landscapes. But... there was something. An... an atmosphere. It wasn't right.) **Hunter:** *[leaning in, trying to parse her tone and the few recognizable words]* "Mill"? "Oui"? Did you see someone? A person? *[Mimes a person walking.]* **Marie:** *[shakes her head vigorously, clutching her camera]* Non, pas une personne. Les arbres... les ombres. Elles bougeaient... mais pas à cause du vent. J’ai pris des photos. Regardez. *[She turns her camera screen toward him, scrolling quickly through images of dense, gloomy forest edge near the mill. Her finger taps the screen insistently on dark, blurred patches between the trees.]* Là! Et là! Vous voyez? (No, not a person. The trees... the shadows. They moved... but not because of the wind. I took pictures. Look. There! And there! Do you see?) **Hunter:** *[squints at the screen, frustration mounting at the language barrier]* I don’t... I see trees. Shadows. It’s a forest. *[Points at the blur she indicated.]* This? It’s blurry. Motion blur. **Marie:** *[insistent, voice rising in distress]* Ce n’est pas du flou! C’était là! Elles étaient là, et puis... puis la nuit est tombée, et j’ai entendu un cri. Loin, dans les bois. Alors je suis partie. C’était... mauvais. (It's not blur! They were there! They were there, and then... then night fell, and I heard a scream. Far off, in the woods. So I left. It was... bad.) **[Hunter’s phone begins to ring loudly, the generic digital trill cutting through the tension.]** **Hunter:** *[holds up a finger to Marie]* Hold on. *[Answers phone.]* Reed. **[A brief pause as he listens.]** **Hunter:** What? Where? Alright. I’m on my way. Ten minutes. *[He hangs up, standing abruptly. He looks down at Marie, who is pale and staring at her camera screen.]* **Hunter:** I have to go. Stay... uh, stay here. In town. Don’t go back out there. *[He points a stern finger toward the woods, then at her, trying to convey the order. He pulls a card from his pocket and places it on the table.]* If you... remember anything. Call. Someone here can translate. **Marie:** *[nods slowly, watching him back away]* Elles bougeaient... (They were moving...) **Hunter:** *[gives a final, confused, and concerned look, then turns and hurries off, his footsteps fading quickly.]*