Run: 2026-02-25-01KJ94W2GK1JPBPQFT5FX6NVH8

A biting wind howled through the city streets late. Detective Miles Corbin arrived at the desolate warehouse district. An anonymous call reported something strange near the docks earlier. Warehouse shadows danced ominously under the single flickering lamppost. A faint smell of copper mixed with damp earth lingered. He stepped carefully over discarded crates, flashlight beam sweeping. Then he saw something, partially hidden beneath a stained tarp. A pale hand protruded, unnaturally still and disturbingly cold. The tarp revealed a man’s face, eyes wide open. A single, dark, crimson stain bloomed across his chest. This was not an accident; this was definitely murder here. He reached for his radio, fingers fumbling slightly from shock.