Run: 2026-02-19-01KHT0225FVSM3D3EA9FM8V0JW

The dim glow of emergency lights flickered against the moss-covered walls of the abandoned Tube station, casting long shadows that danced like restless spirits. The air smelled damp, earthy, and faintly metallic, as though the station had been forgotten by time itself. Detective Harlow Quinn strode down the cracked platform, her boots echoing sharply against the tiles. Her sharp jaw was set, her brown eyes scanning the scene with military precision. Uniformed officers had cordoned off the area near an old ticket booth, its glass shattered and wood rotting. A body lay sprawled on the ground, partially covered by a tarp. Quinn noted the unnatural angle of the victim’s neck, the pallor of their skin. She crouched, peeling back the tarp to get a better look. The man’s suit was expensive but disheveled, his face frozen in a silent scream. A faint whiff of something acrid—ozone, maybe—lingered in the air. "Detective Quinn." The voice came from behind her, smooth and measured. Quinn rose and turned to see Eva Kowalski standing a few feet away, her curly red hair catching the light. The young woman adjusted her round glasses, her green eyes darting nervously to the body. "I was asked to consult on this case. Given... the circumstances." Quinn’s gaze lingered on Eva’s worn leather satchel, bulging with books. "Kowalski. Occult researcher, right?" Her tone was clipped, skeptical. "What circumstances, exactly?" Eva tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her freckled complexion paling slightly. "The location. This isn’t just any abandoned Tube station. It’s the Veil Market. Or at least, it was, until it moved last full moon." Quinn’s brow furrowed. She glanced around, taking in the scattered remnants of what could have been market stalls—broken crates, discarded trinkets, a shattered lantern. She hadn’t paid them much attention before. Now, they seemed... deliberate. "A supernatural black market," she muttered, more to herself than Eva. "And the victim?" "His name’s Victor Langley. A... collector, you could say." Eva hesitated, then opened her satchel and pulled out a slim notebook. "He dealt in rare artifacts. Some of them have... properties." Quinn crossed her arms, her worn leather watch catching the light. "Properties?" "Magical ones." Eva flipped through the notebook, her fingers trembling slightly. "He was known to frequent the Veil Market. Always looking for something specific." Quinn’s eyes narrowed. "Specific how?" "A Veil Compass." Eva looked up, meeting Quinn’s gaze. "It’s a tool that points to supernatural rifts or portals. Extremely rare. Dangerous in the wrong hands." Quinn glanced back at the body, her mind racing. "And you think that’s why he’s dead? Someone didn’t like him poking around?" "Maybe." Eva closed her notebook and slipped it back into her satchel. "But there’s something else. Look at his hands." Quinn crouched again, turning the victim’s limp hand over. His fingertips were blackened, as though burned, but the skin was cold to the touch. She frowned. "Electrical burns? From what?" "Not electricity." Eva knelt beside her, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Arcane energy. Whoever did this wasn’t just killing him. They were sending a message." Quinn stood abruptly, her sharp jaw tightening. "This isn’t a case for the occult section, Kowalski. This is a murder investigation." Eva rose as well, her chin lifting defensively. "With all due respect, Detective, you’re not seeing the full picture. This wasn’t a random killing. This was targeted. Ritualistic." "Ritualistic?" Quinn’s voice was sharp, incredulous. She gestured to the scene around them. "There’s no evidence of any ritual. No symbols, no candles, no—" "Look closer." Eva’s tone was firm now, her nervousness replaced by a quiet confidence. She pointed to the ground beneath the body. "The tiles. They’re cracked in a specific pattern. Not random. Concentric circles. And the air... it smells wrong. You noticed it, didn’t you?" Quinn hesitated, her eyes flicking to the cracked tiles. She hadn’t paid attention to the pattern before, but now it was unmistakable—a series of irregular cracks radiating outward, forming imperfect circles. The acrid scent she’d noticed earlier seemed stronger now, lingering at the back of her throat. "Coincidence," Quinn said, though her voice lacked conviction. "Is it?" Eva reached into her satchel again and withdrew a small brass compass. The casing was tarnished with verdigris, its face etched with intricate sigils. She held it out to Quinn. "This is a Veil Compass. It’s reacting to something here." Quinn eyed the compass warily. The needle spun erratically, never settling. "What’s it supposed to do?" "It points to supernatural energy." Eva’s green eyes met Quinn’s, unwavering. "Look around. Something happened here. Something... not of this world." Quinn took a step back, her sharp jaw clenched. She hated this. Hated the way her instincts, honed over eighteen years of police work, were screaming at her to pay attention. Hated the way Eva’s words echoed the nagging doubts she’d buried three years ago, when her partner had died under circumstances she still couldn’t explain. "You’re saying Langley was killed by something supernatural," Quinn said slowly, her voice tight. "I’m saying the evidence doesn’t add up if you ignore that possibility." Eva tucked the compass back into her satchel, her movements deliberate. "Langley was a collector. He had enemies. But this... this wasn’t just vengeance. This was something else." Quinn turned away, pacing a few steps before stopping abruptly. She stared at the broken market stalls, the cracked tiles, the body lying cold on the ground. Her mind raced, piecing together fragments of a puzzle she didn’t want to see. Arcane burns. Ritualistic patterns. A compass that wouldn’t stop spinning. "Detective Quinn." Eva’s voice was softer now, almost sympathetic. "I know this isn’t what you’re used to. But if you want to solve this, you need to look beyond what’s obvious." Quinn exhaled sharply, her breath visible in the cool air. She turned back to Eva, her brown eyes hard but thoughtful. "Fine. Where do we start?"