Run: 2026-02-17-01KHMPFZPTHW8ZH10KP0Y8DNSC

Detective Harlow Quinn stepped off the rickety stairs and onto the cracked concrete platform, her eyes scanning the dimly lit abandoned Tube station. The air reeked of decay and neglect, the smell of rotting garbage and mold clinging to her skin like a damp shroud. She breathed it in, her sharp jaw clenched in distaste. "What've we got, Sergeant?" she asked, her voice low and even, as she approached the cluster of officers surrounding the body. Sergeant Thompson, a grizzled veteran with a scruff of grey beard, turned to her, his eyes squinting against the glare of the portable lights. "Male victim, mid-twenties. No ID on him. Looks like a robbery gone wrong." Quinn's gaze flicked to the body, taking in the details. The victim lay on his back, eyes frozen in a permanent stare, a look of shock etched on his pale face. A faint smudge of verdigris clung to his fingers, like a whisper of something supernatural. She raised an eyebrow, her mind already spinning with possibilities. "Robbery gone wrong? That doesn't feel right." Thompson shrugged. "What're you thinking, Detective? Looks like a standard mugging to me." Quinn crouched beside the body, her worn leather watch creaking on her wrist. She gently lifted the victim's hand, examining the smudge more closely. "This symbol here –" she pointed to the verdigris – "it's not just any ordinary dirt. It's a residue from... something else." Thompson snorted. "You mean, like, magic?" Quinn's eyes flashed with annoyance, but she kept her tone neutral. "I mean, like, an unknown substance. We need to get forensics on this, pronto." As she stood, her gaze swept the area, taking in the scattered detritus of the abandoned station. A tattered poster on the wall caught her eye – a crude illustration of a compass with a crescent moon symbol etched into the corner. A shiver danced down her spine. "Sergeant, have you noticed anything... unusual about this location?" Thompson raised an eyebrow. "Unusual? Like what?" Quinn's eyes locked onto the poster. "Like, have you seen any other symbols or markings that might suggest... something else is at play here?" The sergeant shook his head. "Just the usual graffiti. Why?" Quinn's jaw clenched. She knew what she'd seen – the faint hum of supernatural energy still lingered in the air, like the echo of a whispered secret. She'd been a detective long enough to trust her instincts. "I think we're dealing with something more than just a robbery gone wrong," she said, her voice low and even. "I think we're looking at a murder scene, and the killer might not be human." Thompson snorted, but Quinn's gaze had already moved on, scanning the area with a renewed sense of purpose. She spotted a small, hidden compartment in the wall, cleverly concealed behind a torn poster. Inside, a tiny brass compass lay on a bed of velvet, its face etched with protective sigils. The needle quivered, pointing toward the body. Quinn's heart quickened. A Veil Compass – a tool used to navigate the hidden world of the supernatural. This was no ordinary crime scene. "Sergeant, get forensics on this compass, and let's review the case files from the last full moon," she said, her mind racing with connections. "I think we're dealing with something that moves in the shadows – something that only comes out when the moon is full." Thompson's expression turned skeptical, but Quinn's gaze had already moved on, her eyes fixed on the compass as she tucked it into her pocket. She knew what she'd seen – the faint whisper of supernatural energy still lingered in the air, waiting to be uncovered.