Run: 2026-02-17-01KHNF6VKQ0Q16B1Q0XCPTRB29

The Veil Market was a corpse. Detective Harlow Quinn stood at the entrance to the abandoned Camden Tube station, watching her breath plume in the frigid air. The brass bone token in her hand felt unnaturally cold, like holding a sliver of winter itself. She turned it over, studying the intricate carvings that spiraled across its surface—the price of admission to London's most elusive black market. Three hours ago, her CI had called with a tip: something had gone terribly wrong at the Veil Market. By the time Quinn arrived, the station had been cordoned off, yellow tape fluttering in the wind like a warning flag. She ducked under it, flashing her badge at the uniform who tried to stop her. "I'm DS Quinn, Met," she said, her voice clipped with authority. "Who's in charge here?" A young officer pointed toward the platform. "Detective Inspector Hayes is down there, ma'am." Quinn descended the stairs, each step echoing in the cavernous space. The platform was a tableau of chaos—overturned stalls, shattered glass vials, and a fine dusting of what looked like crushed bone across the tiles. The air smelled of ozone and something else, something ancient and wrong. She spotted Hayes near the far end, crouched over what appeared to be a body. Quinn's stomach tightened. In eighteen years on the force, she'd seen her share of crime scenes, but this one felt different. The wrongness in the air was palpable, like static electricity before a storm. "Hayes," she called out, her boots crunching on debris as she approached. "What have we got?" Hayes looked up, his face pale under the harsh fluorescent lights. "Quinn. I didn't expect to see you here." "Neither did I," she replied, crouching beside him. "But my CI said there was trouble. Looks like he was right." The body was that of a man in his thirties, dressed in what remained of expensive robes. His skin had taken on a grayish pallor, and his eyes were wide open, staring at something only he could see. But it wasn't the body that caught Quinn's attention—it was the pattern of blood on the platform. "It's not right," she murmured, tracing the outline with her eyes. "Look at the spatter pattern. It's too uniform. Too... deliberate." Hayes frowned. "What are you saying? That this wasn't a struggle?" "I'm saying something else happened here." Quinn stood, her gaze sweeping the platform. "Where are the witnesses? The vendors? The customers?" "They're being questioned upstairs," Hayes said. "But so far, no one's talking. They claim they didn't see anything." Quinn's jaw tightened. "Then we need to look harder. There's always someone who saw something." As if on cue, a figure emerged from the shadows near the tunnel entrance. A woman, her red hair catching the light as she stepped into view. She wore round glasses and carried a worn leather satchel, its contents bulging with what looked like books. Quinn's hand instinctively moved toward her holster. "You. Identify yourself." The woman raised her hands, a gesture of surrender. "Eva Kowalski. I'm a researcher. I was just leaving when all this happened." Quinn studied her, noting the nervous habit of tucking a curl behind her left ear. "A researcher of what, exactly?" "The occult," Eva replied, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands. "I was here to purchase some rare texts for the British Museum's restricted archives." Hayes stepped forward, his tone skeptical. "And you just happened to be leaving when a murder occurred? Convenient." Eva's green eyes flashed with indignation. "I've been coming to the Veil Market for months. I know how dangerous it can be. When I saw what was happening, I got out of there." Quinn's gaze fell on Eva's satchel. "What exactly were you planning to purchase?" Eva hesitated, then reached into her bag, pulling out a small brass compass. "This. It's called a Veil Compass. It's supposed to point toward supernatural rifts." Quinn took the compass, turning it over in her hands. The casing was etched with protective sigils, and the needle spun wildly before settling on a direction. She frowned. "And you believe this actually works?" Eva nodded. "I've seen it in action. It's attuned to supernatural energy." Hayes scoffed. "Supernatural energy? You're telling me you believe in magic?" Eva's jaw set. "I've seen things that defy explanation. Things that science can't account for." Quinn's mind raced. She thought of her partner, DS Morris, who had died three years ago under circumstances she still couldn't explain. The case had been closed, but the questions remained. What if Eva was right? What if there was more to this world than met the eye? She turned to Hayes. "I want a full forensic sweep of this platform. And I want to talk to every single witness, no matter how insignificant they might seem." Hayes opened his mouth to argue, but Quinn cut him off. "That's an order, Inspector. Something happened here that we don't understand. And until we do, no theory is too outlandish." As Hayes moved to comply, Quinn turned back to Eva. "You said you've been coming to the Veil Market for months. What exactly do you know about it?" Eva's expression turned wary. "It's a black market for the supernatural. Enchanted goods, banned alchemical substances, information. But it's not just a marketplace. It's a community. And something has scared them deeply." Quinn's mind was racing. "Scared them how?" Eva hesitated, then leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper. "There are rumors. Whispers of something ancient waking up. Something that feeds on magic." The words sent a chill down Quinn's spine. She thought of the body on the platform, of the wrongness in the air. What if Eva was right? What if the Veil Market wasn't just a black market, but a front for something far more sinister? She turned back to the body, her eyes narrowing as she studied the scene anew. The pieces were starting to come together, but she needed more information. She needed to understand what had happened here tonight. And she needed to do it before whatever had scared the Veil Market decided to make its presence known to the rest of London. "Detective Quinn?" Eva's voice pulled her from her thoughts. "What are you going to do?" Quinn straightened, her jaw set with determination. "I'm going to find out who did this. And I'm going to stop them, no matter what it takes." As she turned to leave, the Veil Compass in her hand suddenly spun wildly, its needle pointing toward the tunnel. Quinn's eyes widened. Whatever had happened here tonight, it wasn't over. And she had a feeling it was only the beginning.