Run: 2026-02-17-01KHMMGNVPVEZ5PZXS27KZ8Y0T

Detective Harlow Quinn descended the worn concrete steps into the abandoned Tube station, her sharp eyes scanning the shadows. The air smelled of stale urine and decay. She ducked under a sagging chain barrier, footsteps echoing in the dim light cast by wan bulbs. Ahead, a mutilated corpse lay sprawled in a pool of congealing blood. Harlow crouched beside it, leather watch creaking on her wrist. Deep slashes criss-crossed the torso, exposing glistening ribs and intestines. Neat slices stippled the waxy skin. She sucked in a breath between clenched teeth. Ritualistic. Precise. Nothing like a common street murder. "This makes the third one, Quinn. Each full moon, like clockwork. I'm telling you, it has to be the Veil Market." Harlow glanced up at the lanky form of her sergeant. "Spare me the fairytales, Evans. We deal in facts, not flights of fancy." She rose, surveying the vaulted ceiling and distant, tiled platform. "Have the scene techs found any trace evidence? Security camera footage?" Evans sighed, flipping open his notebook. "Nothing yet. No signs of struggle, no murder weapon, no witnesses. He's a ghost." Harlow's jaw tightened. "No one's that clean. There's always a thread to tug." She studied the occult tattoos inked into the victim's chest. "Zellman. You're familiar with London's underground. What are we looking at here?" The detective in question knelt, gloved fingers hovering over the ink. "Dark alchemy, by the look of it. Sacrifice. The killer's drawing power from the ritual. Something's off though..." Zellman leaned closer, brow furrowed. "This glyph here. That's not blood magic, it's a portal sigil. To where, I couldn't say." Harlow's mind raced as she took in the grisly tableau, fitting the pieces together. "Rumors have been swirling about a hidden supernatural black market. Could he have crossed the wrong person there? Stumbled onto something he shouldn't have seen?" She fixed her steely gaze on Evans. "I want everything we have on the Veil Market, this supposed Shade compass, everything. Someone there knows something. We find them, we find our killer." Evans opened his mouth to protest but a clipped shout cut him off. "Detective Quinn! We've got a witness over here. Says she saw a woman fleeing the scene just before we arrived. Red hair, carrying a satchel..." Harlow spun on her heel, hand instinctively dropping to the service weapon at her hip. "Where?" The uniformed officer led them to a woman huddled against the far wall, knuckles white around the strap of a worn leather bag. Curly red hair framed a pale, freckled face, eyes wide with fear behind round glasses. She flinched as they approached. "Miss, I'm Detective Quinn. Can you tell me what you saw here tonight?" Harlow asked, pitching her voice low and calm. The redhead swallowed hard. "I... I was on my way home from the British Museum. I took a wrong turn and... and I saw her. She had a knife. There was so much blood..." She squeezed her eyes shut, a tear sliding down her cheek. "She must have heard me. She looked right at me. I ran. I'm sorry, I should have done something..." "You did the right thing." Harlow made a subtle gesture and Evans stepped back to give them space. She crouched, meeting the woman's gaze. "I know you're frightened, but I need you to tell me everything you remember. Every detail counts." The woman took a shaky breath and nodded. "She was dressed all in black. Gloves, a hood. But her face... she had the most striking green eyes. They almost seemed to... glow. Like a cat's. She moved so fast, too fast to be natural..." Harlow's own eyes narrowed. Inhuman speed, glowing eyes, ritualistic murder... this was no ordinary crime of passion. The Market looked more and more like their best lead. But she kept her tone neutral as she nodded along with the witness's story. "You've been incredibly helpful, Miss...?" "Kowalski. Eva." She shouldered her satchel, straightening. "I work in the museum's restricted archives. A lot of the texts reference powerful supernatural relics. I've heard whispers about the Veil Market." A pause, then she seemed to come to a decision. "A package arrived there last month. A compass rumored to locate rifts between worlds. I may be able to get you more information, if you think it could help." Harlow rose, offering Eva a hand up. "At this point, we'll take any lead we can get. The Market moves each full moon, correct? That doesn't give us much time." She glanced at the body, then back to Eva's determined face. "You're sure you want to get involved? This is dangerous business." Eva shrugged, adjusting her glasses. "A man died tonight. I can't let that be for nothing. I'll do whatever I can to help find who did this." Harlow held her gaze a beat, then gave a curt nod. "We appreciate your cooperation. Grab your things and meet us at the car. I'm not letting you out of my sight until that Market closes tonight. You're our ticket in."