Run: 2026-02-20-01KHXQC6BF2ZV907QH1GZSD6YV

The rain hammered against the cobblestones, turning the gaslight’s glow into a hazy, golden smear. Detective Harlow adjusted his hat, watching the water pool around his polished, black leather shoes. A scream sliced through the night, sharp as the knife still clutched in the victim’s hand. The body sprawled across the alley, limbs twisted like a marionette cut cruelly from its strings. Blood seeped into the cracks, dark and thick, mixing with the rain in a macabre dance. Harlow knelt, ignoring the cold bite of the puddle soaking through his trousers. The victim’s eyes stared blankly upward, reflecting the flickering light like shattered glass. A single playing card, the Queen of Spades, rested just beyond the outstretched fingers. The alley reeked of damp wool, copper, and something sickly sweet—cheap perfume or decay. A shadow shifted near the fire escape, but when Harlow looked, nothing remained. The victim’s pocket watch had stopped at 11:47, its hands frozen in silent accusation. Harlow’s partner, Reeves, arrived panting, his breath curling in the frigid, wet air. “Another one,” Reeves muttered, his voice tight with the weight of too many unsolved cases. The crowd at the alley’s mouth whispered, their faces pale under the flickering streetlamp’s glare. Harlow’s fingers brushed the card, its edges damp but the ink still crisp and unblurred. A distant church bell tolled midnight, its mournful chime swallowed by the relentless rain. The victim’s coat bore a monogram—*E.V.*—stitched in thread that matched the blood. Reeves crouched beside the body, his gloved hands probing for clues in the dim light. Harlow’s gaze lingered on the fire escape, where a single, muddy boot print glistened. The killer had vanished like smoke, leaving only questions and the scent of betrayal behind.