Run: 2026-02-19-01KHT0F12JAXKRTXRJR2Z6R7M6

The dim glow of Detective Harlow Quinn's torch flickered across the damp brick walls of the abandoned Tube station. She surveyed the scene - a makeshift bar, overturned tables, broken glass glistening on the floor. And in the center, the crumpled body of Gus "The Weasel" Mackey. Quinn sidestepped the pool of blood seeping through his wiry ginger hair, crouching to inspect the wound to his temple. Clean. Single shot. Not the kind of messy execution she'd expect from a garbage dump like this. She stood and turned to her partner DCI Samir Patel, his face visible in the halo of light from his own torch. "Looks pretty cut and dried, eh Quinn? Probably a deal gone sour, or a debt not paid." Quinn frowned, her icy gaze scanning the closed stalls and shadows. Something didn't sit right. "Too neat. In a place like this, you'd expect more violence. A struggle at least." Patel shrugged. "Maybe he knew his killer. Might've let his guard down." Quinn shook her head. "I don't buy it. None of his pals would waste a bullet on this cockroach." She started towards the bar, boot crunching on glass. A flicker of movement in her peripheral vision stopped her. She turned, torch beam slicing through the dark - and caught a flash of crimson curls vanishing behind a pillar. "Stop! Police!" Quinn lunged forward, Patel's shout fading behind her. She rounded the pillar in time to see a slight figure in a worn leather satchel dart into the tunnel, round glasses glinting. They weren't going far - Quinn would see to that. She gave chase, footfalls echoing in the enclosed space. The target glanced over her shoulder - young, scared. Quinn reached out and grabbed the leather satchel, wrenching the girl backwards. "Let go!" She squirmed in Quinn's grip, curls tugging free of their clip. "I wasn't doing anything!" Quinn kept her hold, breathing hard. "Presently that's a lie. You're in a restricted area. I need to know what you were doing down here." The girl wriggled free, arm's length from Quinn. She was young, eighteen or nineteen at most, with a smattering of freckles across her button nose. "I'm not here to cause trouble, I swear. I just... I thought I saw..." Her gaze darted back towards the main room. Quinn followed it, senses straining. Nothing but ragged breaths and faint sound of the river echoing through the pipes. Yet the hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention. She turned back to the girl, who had produced a sticker book and was laboriously tagging rune symbols that seemed to be etched into the wall. "What did you think you saw?" The girl looked up, eyes wide. "Something impossible. An impossible creature." Quinn's gut clenched. She'd heard that word before, when her partner DS Morris had gone missing three years ago. Impossible. Supernatural. Things she'd buried deep, refusing to acknowledge could be true. She shook her head, holstering her torch and gun. "You're coming down the station. We'll get this sorted there." The girl nodded, snapping her sticker book shut and falling in step behind Quinn. "My name is Eva Kowalski, by the way. I'm friends with Aurora Davenport." Quinn stiffened. "The one whose husband went missing last week? What's your connection?" Eva shrugged, tucking her hair back with a nervous habit. "Aurora's just a friend. I'm an occult researcher. I..." She paused, biting her lip. Quinn raised an eyebrow. "You what?" "I think there might be something supernatural at the bottom of these disappearances. More than just murder." Quinn scoffed, but her heart was a jackhammer in her chest. "Listen love, I deal in cold, hard facts. Your idea that a bunch of grown men vanished into thin air is... Well, it's impossible." Eva's eyes flashed with something fierce anditalic{intelligent}. "Impossible," she agreed. "Like the creature I saw. The one that lurks in basement markets, waiting for easy prey." Quinn opened her mouth, then closed it. Eva was staring at her expectantly, as if waiting for a response that wouldn't come. She couldn't give a response, not when the only name she'd heard for impossible creatures was one that still haunted her. Quinn sighed, running a hand through her salt-and-pepper hair. "I don't know what you think you've seen, but the world is full of strange things that don't make sense. Doesn't mean they're supernatural." Eva frowned. "Strange never used to bother you, Detective. Why doesn't this?" Quinn set her jaw. "Walking into the unknown is just asking to end up like your friend's husband." Eva let out a mirthless laugh. "Or maybe I'll end up like your partner. Disappearing into the ether, along with any memory that you ever knew him." Quinn staggered back, the force of it knocking the breath from her lungs. The sledgehammer of memory hit her chest - DS Frank Morris smiling at his desk, griping about the tea, talking excitedly about cars and family... Gone. Wiped clean. She shook her head, bile rising in her throat. "You don't know what you're talking about." Eva stepped closer, her voice low and urgent. "I know you're repressing something. And I know it's the key to solving these disappearances." Quinn gazed at her mutely, willing the world to stop spinning. The cogs of her mind were whirring, NJSPQ. Is it possible she was right? The missing pieces she felt in her gut, the abyss of doubt that she'd been drowning in for the last three years...could they truly be supernatural? She swallowed, the dryness almost painful. "I'll look into it. Quietly." Eva nodded, professional and contained once more. "See that you do. Get in touch if you change your mind about joining me." She produced a scrappy business card and handed it to Quinn before striding towards the archway. Quinn watched her go, fingers curling around the card as if it were a lifeline. Then she squared her shoulders, turned on her heel, and headed back towards Patel, the crumpled body and the questions she could no longer ignore. If Eva was right, it was time to stare her greatest fears in the face - and hope she'd like what she found. Quinn studied the blackboard, ashes swirling in a vortex around her. Her eyes flickered between the scattered images and the name on the card, feeling the pull of an old wound being ripped open. She had run from this pain for so long, but now she could no longer hide. The truth was waiting, its seedy underbelly twitching in the darkness, urging her to seek out answers she'd been too afraid to face. Quinn closed her eyes, reaching for the thread of courage that was the only thing left to anchor her. With a deep breath, she strode forward into the fray, ready to confront whatever impossible creatures slithered in the shadows. Whistling cockily to hide her nerves, she descended into the belly of The Veil Market, one step closer to the truth.