Run: 2026-02-19-01KHTR1002FNMD9BPMMFK650K4

Detective Harlow Quinn stepped under the crumbling archway of the abandoned Tube station, her shoes crunching on the debris that littered the concrete floor. Water dripped somewhere in the darkness, each drop echoing through the cavernous space with eerie precision. The forensics team had set up portable lights that cast long shadows across the curved walls, their harsh glare revealing graffiti tags that had accumulated over decades of neglect. "This is the third one this month," said a voice behind her. Detective Sergeant Palmer approached, offering her a coffee in a paper cup. "Same MO, same lack of evidence." Quinn took the cup without drinking, her eyes scanning the scene. Three uniformed officers stood huddled near what appeared to be the center of investigation – a chalk outline surrounded by numbered evidence markers. But something felt off. "Who called it in?" she asked, her gaze fixed on the chalk outline. "Anonymous tip, like the others. By the time first responders arrived, place was clean except for the body." Quinn approached the outline slowly, her movements measured with military precision. She crouched down, careful not to disturb the scene despite the fact that forensics had already combed through it. The outline indicated a body positioned on its back, arms outstretched. No blood spatter, no signs of struggle. "Time of death?" "ME puts it between midnight and 2 AM. Victim was male, mid-thirties, no ID. Cause of death appears to be exsanguination, but..." Palmer trailed off. "But there's no blood," Quinn finished, rising to her full height. She checked her worn leather watch. "And this is the third victim with the same cause of death but no physical evidence of how the blood was removed." She stepped back, taking in the entirety of the scene. The abandoned station platform stretched into darkness in both directions. Ancient tiles, some missing, others cracked, lined the walls. A disused ticket booth stood to one side, its windows smashed long ago. "Palmer, what do you see here?" she asked. The younger detective shrugged. "Homeless guy in the wrong place at the wrong time? Could be drug-related. These abandoned stations are popular spots for users." Quinn shook her head. "No drug paraphernalia. No personal belongings. No defensive wounds." She walked around the outline, examining the ground. "And look at the dust pattern." Palmer stepped closer. "What about it?" "It's undisturbed except for the area around the body." Quinn pointed to a circular pattern in the dust. "Almost as if..." "As if what?" "As if the body was placed here, not killed here." Palmer snorted. "So we're looking for a killer who exsanguinates victims elsewhere, then carefully transports bloodless corpses to abandoned Tube stations? Why go to the trouble?" Quinn didn't answer. Instead, she moved toward the ticket booth, flashlight in hand. The beam cut through layers of dust and cobwebs. Something caught her eye – a small mark etched into the concrete beside the booth. "Palmer, get me the case files from the previous two scenes," she said, kneeling to examine the mark more closely. While waiting, Quinn photographed the symbol with her phone – a circle with lines radiating outward, like a crude compass. She'd seen something similar before, but couldn't place it. Palmer returned with a tablet. "Here you go." Quinn scrolled through the images from the previous crime scenes – one in an abandoned warehouse, another in a sealed-off section of sewer tunnels. She stopped on photos of the surrounding areas. "There," she said, pointing to barely visible markings in both locations. "The same symbol." "Could be coincidence. Underground graffiti tags, urban explorers marking territory." "Three identical symbols at three crime scenes with three exsanguinated bodies?" Quinn's voice was sharp. "That's not coincidence, that's pattern." Her phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number: *Need to talk about the symbols. BP corner at Camden Lock, 20 mins. Come alone. -E* Quinn tucked the phone away. "I need to follow up on something. Keep processing the scene, and check if missing persons has anything matching our victim." "Where are you going?" Palmer asked. "To chase a lead." Twenty minutes later, Quinn stood at the designated corner, watching tourists and locals mingle in Camden's bustling market. Her hand rested near her concealed service weapon, a habit from years on the force. "Detective Quinn." The voice came from behind her. Quinn turned to find a young woman with curly red hair and round glasses, clutching a worn leather satchel to her chest. The woman tucked a strand of hair behind her left ear nervously. "Eva Kowalski," the woman said, extending her hand. "I work at the British Museum." Quinn shook it briefly. "How do you know my name? And how do you know about my case?" Eva glanced around, lowering her voice. "I've been tracking these killings. The symbols at your crime scenes – they're markers for The Veil Market." "The what?" "It's... complicated. But I can help you understand what you're dealing with." Eva opened her satchel, pulling out a small brass compass with a patina of verdigris. Its face was etched with intricate patterns that resembled the symbol from the crime scenes. Quinn's eyes narrowed. "Where did you get that?" "It's called a Veil Compass. It points to places where the boundary between worlds thins." Eva held it flat on her palm. The needle spun wildly before settling in the direction of the abandoned Tube station. "Your killer isn't human, Detective. They're using these locations because they're access points." Quinn's mind flashed to her former partner, DS Morris. His last case had ended with him vanishing in an abandoned church. The official report cited structural collapse, but they never found a body. Before he disappeared, he'd mentioned something about "things that shouldn't exist." "Access points to what exactly?" Quinn asked, her skepticism fighting with the nagging feeling that this might explain the inexplicable elements of her case. "To The Veil Market. It's an underground trading post that moves locations every full moon. They sell things you can't get in our world – including human blood." Eva's green eyes met Quinn's. "The symbols mark temporary entrances. Your victims aren't random – they're offerings." Quinn crossed her arms. "You expect me to believe my murders are connected to some supernatural black market?" Eva reached into her satchel again and pulled out a small object wrapped in cloth. She unwrapped it, revealing what appeared to be a fragment of bone carved into a token. "This gets you into the Market. Tonight's the full moon – it'll be at the Camden Tube station. If you want to catch your killer, that's where you need to be." Eva pressed the token into Quinn's hand. "Midnight. Come alone, or they'll know you're police." Quinn stared at the token. "Why are you helping me?" "Because my friend is mixed up in this world, and I'm afraid she'll be next." Eva adjusted her glasses. "The Market has rules. One is that human blood must be freely given or taken from the already deceased. Someone's breaking that rule." "And who exactly is this friend?" Eva hesitated. "Her name is Aurora. She doesn't know I'm here." She glanced at her watch. "I have to go. Midnight, Detective. Bring the token." As Eva turned to leave, Quinn grabbed her arm. "How do I know this isn't a trap?" Eva's freckled face was solemn. "Because three years ago, a detective named Morris started asking the same questions you are now. I tried to help him too." Quinn felt a chill run through her. "You knew Morris?" "Not well enough to save him. Don't make his mistake – don't go in unprepared." Eva pulled away gently. "And Detective? Whatever you do, don't tell anyone where you're going. The Market has eyes everywhere – even in your department." Quinn watched Eva disappear into the crowd, the bone token heavy in her palm and Morris's unsolved case suddenly feeling connected to her own in ways she couldn't yet understand.