Run: 2026-04-25-01KQ2EV113WRT9ETXEWZ6YHJ94

**Marie:** *(stares down at the digital screen, her brow furrowed, murmuring to herself)* Il est passé juste derrière elle... c'est impossible. L'image est trop sombre... **Hunter:** *(A shadow falls over her table. He clears his throat, pulling a small notepad from his trench coat.)* Excuse me. Miss, you're Marie, correct? You were at the old Peterson barn three days ago, on the morning Margaret Finch went missing. I need to ask you about what you saw. **Marie:** *(Her head snaps up, eyes wide and rimmed with red. She clutches the camera protectively to her chest.)* Ah, Monsieur le détective... C'était affreux. Juste affreux. Je n'arrive pas à dormir sans revoir cette silhouette. **Hunter:** *(He leans in, squinting slightly, his pen poised over the paper.)* I'm sorry, I didn't catch that. Was that a yes? You were there? **Marie:** *(Shakes her head rapidly, not in negation but in distress. She gestures wildly with her free hand.)* Une forme noire, vous comprenez ? Pas un homme. Pas un animal. Elle... elle s'est fondue dans le mur. Et cette odeur ensuite... ça sentait les pommes pourries, comme le festival... mais en pire. En mort. **Hunter:** *(He frowns, looking from her camera to her face. He scribbles a single, frustrated word: 'distraught.')* Listen, I know this is hard. I'm trying to find Margaret. My French is... well, it's non-existent. Slowly, okay? Did you see a person? Un... homme? Une... femme? **Marie:** *(A tear slips down her cheek. She nods emphatically, then shakes her head, then nods again, confusing herself.)* Oui... non... le flash. J'ai utilisé le flash. La photographie de paysage, ce n'est pas pour ça que je suis venue ici. C'est pour ça. *(She thrusts the camera toward him, her voice dropping to a terrified whisper.)* Regardez. Dites-moi que je suis folle. S'il vous plaît, dites-moi que je n'ai rien vu. **Hunter:** *(He takes the camera, an unfamiliar piece of tech, and looks at the dark image on the screen. It shows the inside of a dilapidated barn, a blur of light, and a strange, elongated smudge near a far wall.)* This is just a blur. A trick of the light. You're12 shaken up, and that's understandable. Look, did you see anyone else? The groundskeeper? A tall man, maybe? A car that didn't belong? **Marie:** *(She wrings her hands, growing more agitated at his inability to understand. She points a trembling finger at the screen.)* Pas une lumière ! Une ombre qui avale la lumière ! Elle a regardé l'objectif, directement ! Elle savait que j'étais là ! Vous devez croire... *(Her phone suddenly buzzes on the table, a sharp, jarring noise. She yelps and flinches, but it's Hunter who reaches for his pocket.)* **Hunter:** *(He glances at his own ringing phone, his expression hardening. He hands the camera back to her gently.)* That's the station. I have to take this. Stay here. Don't leave Alborn. We... I will need to talk to you again. I'll find a translator. *(He turns away, answering the call with a gruff, "Wright.")* **Marie:** *(She doesn't watch him leave. She just brings the camera back to her face, her words a faint, broken whisper.)* Ce n'était pas une pomme. C'était autre chose... et ça nous regarde tous.