Run: 2026-05-27-01KSMEQWQA4WA68S1T3B2N7HBY

*Maria sits at a small table in Alborn's cozy coffee shop, Cafe Hey Hey Hey. She has the viewfinder of her camera up to her face, examining the photos from her morning walk around the quaint town. Her head is down, her focus entirely on the images snapped in the golden morning light from Alborn, when she hears a man's voice, calling to her. "Excuse me, miss. Sorry to bother you, but I need to ask you a few questions, if that's alright." Curious, Maria pulls the camera away from her face and looks up. Squinting at the man in the dark grey hoodie, she cannot understand him. He speaks in a foreign language - English. But seeing that he speaks in the tongue of her new home, Hunters offers her a tentative smile. She does not reciprocate. She continues to stare at him, not comprehending. Maria: "...El qué?" *Is he here for her photos? Voleuses of photos was not something she'd run into before. Then again, stranger things had happened when one was far from home during a study abroad program. It was just Maria, after all, alone in a country where no one spoke Spanish, not even the man standing before her. But then, she notices that he is wearing a police uniform. Maria: "¿Hablas inglés?" *Recognition comes quickly: he's from The Alborn Police Department. Awareness is like a feeling coming over her. This is not about her photos. She licks her lips and says something else in a rapid Spanish. Maria: "Actamente!" Hunter: "I'm sorry, I can't understand you miss. Do you speak English at all?" Maria: "No comprendo. Me llama María, amigo." *She says this with a look of frustration and confusion on her face, quickly switching to halting phrases that even she can tell must be mangled. Hunter: "Got it, you're Maria. No habla inglés, right? Well, I'm Hunter. I'm hoping you might be able to help me with some information. Do you know anything about...?" *But Hunter is cut off by his phone ringing. He frowns, but answers the call.* Hunter: "Yeah, this is Detective Hunter. Are you sure? I'm on my way!" *After ending the call, he turns back to Maria with an apologetic expression.* Hunter: "I'm sorry Maria, but I have to take care of this other matter. Can I come back later and talk to you more?" *Maria gives a nod, glancing down at her camera, then back at Hunter with a look of uncertainty. She isn't sure why he would need to come back to "talk" with her, in a language they both couldn't communicate in. She wonders briefly if there might be trouble ahead for this stranger and for the town. But then Maria pushes that thought out of her mind. Maria: "De nada!" *A faint smile creases Marias face and she waves as Hunter hurries off out of the cafe. Her mind isn't sure what to make of their brief exchange, but she avoids his eyes as she goes back to looking at the photographs. Perhaps this is a sign. Perhaps Alborn is not as safe as it seems. Maria is unsure, but she knows one thing for certain: she will do her best to be a good community member and hopefully break the language barrier if she can. And if she can't, well... at least she has her landscape photography to keep her busy.* *Hunter disappears out into the town, heading to deal with whatever urgent matter has arisen, with Maria's confusing conversations weighing on his mind. Closing the door to the cafe behind him, he shakes his head and mutters to himself.* Hunter: "Mystery solved, let's hope. I'll find a translator for that girl later, when there isn't... whatever kind of fresh hell is about to hit the fan." *And with that, Hunter hurries off, walking swiftly along the cobblestone street, his mind already elsewhere. There is work to be done, and he's clearly not going to be able do it with Maria's help. Ah well. The day is young, after all, and the detective has a town to protect. Good thing he has no language barrier keeping him from that important job - unlike his new friend, Maria. Then again, now that he thinks about it, maybe it was a minor miracle that they were able to communicate as much as they did. After all, first impressions are often the most important ones. And from the way that their conversation had ended, he was already convinced of one thing: While Maria may not speak English, she has some of the best landscape photos he'd seen in the area. And that's saying something, coming from a former marine with an eye for detail. So maybe, through a lifetime of perseverance and hard work, he and Maria would one day even come to be thought of as friends. No. It would be best if he didn't get attached to anyone in Alborn, particularly a student. It was a crime town, after all, and he was only here to protect it, not like it. Ah, but if only for a moment, he let his heart wonder what a future with Maria might be like. Her beauty aside, she had a certain something to her, a certoina je ne sais quoi that only a former marine like himself could see. The possibilities were endless! Well, not really. He had a job to do, and it didn't involve making friends. Besides, she didn't even speak English. His heart could get lost in these dreams all day, but then he would never get any work done. Ah, but what a dream, to have someone special to share the chocolates of life with, in the end. A fellow lover of photography, no less. Oh, what could have been. But that was a fantasy, really, and he was a practical man. Shruging his shoulders, he banishes these thoughts of, guilt finally sets in, realizing that he had let his concentration lag for a few moments while thinking about Maria. A mistake that never would have happened when he was in the military. Ah, to be young and under no one's command, now that's a beautiful thing. But still, he had better focus. Hunter has a mystery to solve. And a missing woman to find. Hunter pushed his shoulders back and came to a stop between two buildings, taking in the surroundings with caution. A brick wall separated the alley from the main street, overlooking the old church across from it. There was a knockcoming out of one of the houses,a tremor that ran down his spine. What would they say about her? Would they know her at all? With so much noise, the detective was struggling to grasp what was happening. Whatever had happened in the cafe, surely it had been bad. Perhaps he should have stayed with Maria. Perhaps now, in reminding her of the absolute futility of having any relationship besides a professional one with a woman, he is sure that the falcon has finally caught up. But now, stuck in an American town, chased by enemies in a foreign language, on the trail of a killer or worse, under an ocean of trees - he'd forgotten their names, but they were Americans - and staring down a wave of villagers in a state of panic, demanding answers to questions they wouldn't understand, anyway; coming on the heels of an entire town's unfathomable collapse, Maria felt like his only hope. Not that she could say much, either. Perhaps, he mused, he should have ditched the phone, and in it all his potential recruits, and just spun around the corner and gone right, down the street behind Maria, into the upper room of her apartment. He could have kept her safe from the terrible telekinetic army, or whatever nefarious force of nature was chasing them down. Would she get it? Could she understand? No, no, no. He was a detective, not a civilian. He was supposed to know better. He was supposed to know better than to turn his back on the woman holding a gun, even in linguistic isolation. The fact of the matter was, he needed help, and not just the eye on the horizon that Maria offered. Though her eye alone might suffice, if the rest of the town was in the throes of a manic orgy of jealousy or shivering gibberish, felling itself in a concerted frenzy. But now, here he was, staring down a termite that didn't even exist, in a house that was nothing but crunchy leaves, trying desperately to figure out how to ask a blind girl in another language not to kill him. Hunter: "Thanks for your time María, I really didn't mean to put you in danger." *Marya nodded silently as I walked out of the café, each step feeling like I was moving through sand or water. Something unbelievably thick and heavy and slow. My legs moved under me, each one painstakingly becoming clear under my leather shoes as they descended from here to here. It was like my leg bones were plastic or something, trailing their own shadow. наконец мо린. To. Toa. I walk. Hunter thought. Had men ever moved this slowly? He could barely breathe, like his chest was pine, and the oxygen was something else. Like everything else around him, oxygen wasn't for him. It belonged to Maria and to her heroes. It would take Maria back to where she needed to be, but Hunter would be sitting under the table in the café. Where was Ella? No. He couldn't think about her. Not now. Not anymore. Hunter has a job to do, and he has to do it. Even if it means leaving behind his only hope of untangling this mess. And maybe, just maybe, if she kept the hidden camera, and got some good pictures, she could solve this mystery. And maybe she could even avenge Zeke, and bring justice to an nation. Perhaps these ten lifetimes of experience he had with her weren't entirely useless, and perhaps they would keep him alive, and also keep him in the game. And there has to be something. It could be the Spanish connection, but it could also be the fact that Maria loves landscape photography. She may not be able to speak English, but she can surely understand it. No, it's more likely signs of dementia, due to the massive brain damage she suffered during her childhood. But even this, according to Montorso, is unusual and rare. Not to mention, the timing is very suspicious and of a very serious nature. But no, that's impossible; there is no telepathy in this universe, and there is zero evidence to support that anything paranormal was going on. Hunter mentally staggers, trying to get a hold of himself. No, don't. Don't think about it. Don't let it make you feel crazy. You are not insane; you are sane. You are in the midst of a case, and you must (1) admit to yourself that the murderer had supernatural abilities, or (2) puts her into Parque Valencia, on her way back to Medellin, and Cynthia is indeed her twin, from her other life, and also, she has telepathy as well, and they are coming to get her and+ Hunter steps into the main room, surveying the chaos that has erupted in the café. Chairs and tables are overturned everywhere, and a large group of townspeople are gathered in the center, speaking rapidly in Spanish and gesturing wildly at each other. *Setting his hands firmly on his holster, the hardened detective made his way into the center of the chaos, feeling like an intruder in a scene he no longer understood. Some ynstead spoke English, , but the majority of the crowd were speaking in Spanish, which as usual, he couldn't understand. Fucking piece of shit language. If he had his way, he would have them all shipped off to Mexico before the sun rose in the morning. *But that was a matter for later. Right now, he needed to find objective information that would help him locate the victims. Drawing a deep breath, Hunter focused on the facts he knew: Zeke had been murdered, Maria had witnessed the crime, Zeke had telepathic abilities, and Cynthia was Maria's long-lost twin. All of this, as far as he could judge, was real or true. Objective. Infrastructural. Empirical. The rest was on him, and him alone. The crowd finally noticed his presence and a half-dozen voices chimed in at once, each offering their own theory about the mysterious murder. They spoke so fast, and the furthest word he could catch was "blayen veer" which was the Spanish word for "Blue Hairs". Like fucking Sarah Palin. Hunter winced and rubbed his temples, realizing he needed to slow things down. *Lifting his hands, he spoke in a loud, clear voice:* Hunter: "Everyone, please... I know you're all upset. But screaming at each other in Spanish isn't helping anything. Maria!: might have some insights, as she witnessed the murder..." Before he could say anything more, Hunter was interrupted by an elderly woman pushing to the front of the crowd, her face twisted in anger. "Maria?? HA! You want to talk to Maria!!" She bellowed, jabbing an accusatory finger at him. "Let me tell you something, Detective - " Hunter: "Look, lady. I know you're upset, but if you don't start making sense, I'm going to have to cut in with a little castellano, and we both know you'd hate that." The old woman let out a furious frown. "Castellano? Castellano!! We speak español here, Detective. Learn how to use it, if you want to get anywhere in this town." Hunter and the old lady stared each other down, each eying the other like a bull about to charge with rage. Perhaps there was a third option. Perhaps there was a possibility that had been left unexplored, but he, in his ignorance, had missed an important step in the process of disentangling the murderer from the witnesses and the victims, and that third option.... Hunter cleared his throat. "Lady - look. I'm - I'm just trying to get the information I need to solve this case, para ayudarles." The woman's eyes narrowed. "Auyudarme? And how, pray tell, do you intend on helping us, cop mariquero, with your bully tactics and violent language?" Hunter grimaced. "I can - I can arrest you, if you don't tell me what you know, abuela." She advanced on him, nose to nose. "Pruébame algo, then, pendejo! Come on, prove to me that I'm lying, if you can, carcamorro!" Hunter stepped back, angry at his inadequate ability to address the woman. And yet, all he had to do was translate his own words, in his mind, to better understand them in Spanish. It came to him, then, an insistence. "Que tu piensas que sabes?" Hunter thought. What do you think you know? Did that mean anything? He wasn't so sure, but all he had to do was ask himself: What does she think she knows? Hunter held up a hand, trying to get the woman's attention. Hunter: "Esa mujer, Maria, la chica tienes ojos grandes... what, can you tell me what you know about the victim?" The old woman narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously, but it was clear that she understood him on some level. "Maria? La chica con los ojos grandes? La que sale con el fotografo?" She spat onto the ground. "Si, I know what she knows. And you won't like what I have to say, Detective." The woman leaned in close, her breath hot on his face. "You see, I saw Zeke that night. The night he was murdered. And I saw Maria with him. And I saw the two of them arguing in the alley behind the café. And then, just like that, Zeke was dead. And Maria, that chica, she was gone, just like that. Poof! Disappeared into thin air." Hunter's heart raced as he tried to process the information. "You're saying... you think Maria killed Zeke?" The old woman shrugged. "No sé. Todo lo que sé es que Maria estuvo allí, con Zeke. Y cuando todo terminó, Zeke estaba muerto, y Maria estaba desaparecida. Nursing no había nadie más allí." Hunter thought for a moment. There were too many unknowns. He didn't know what to make of the information, or how to proceed. He wasn't even sure if the old woman was telling him the truth. Just then, his phone rang, making him jump. "Thanks for your time, Señora," he mumbled, turning away to take the call. On the other end of the line was his partner, Janice. "Hunter, I'm at the morgue. and So, tell me, what's the verdict on this de Homework assignment?" Hunter massaged his temples, trying to keep the migraine at bay. "Well, Partner, I think we've got a potential person of interest. A study abroad student named Maria. Seems she was the last person seen with Zeke before his murder." Janice sighed. "Maria? The camera chick? Really, Hunter, you've been chasing girls again." Hunter closed his eyes, a line drawing its way along the length of his forehead. "I am not - it's not like that, I swear. She's the only lead I've got." "But you don't speak Spanish, bro." "I'm aware, thank you. That's why I'm calling on you to translate for me. Think you can help a guy out, or should I just throw myself at Maria's feet while crying and begging her to tell me what she knows?" Janice snorted. "She hasn't even spoken Spanish. She hasn't even spoken anything, actually. Nor has she been seen or heard from since Zeke's murder. Like, no one seems to know where she went, or if she's even still in town. She seems to have just... vanished." Hunter frowned. This case just keep getting more and more fucked up. "Okay, look. Gather the troops, and search the town. I want Maria found, yesterday. She's our only lead, and I intend to speak with her, no matter what it takes." Janice clicked her pen. "Roger that, boss. I'll get right on it. Keep your eyes peeled, and your head in the game, okay? No more chasing girls, or else..." Hunter chuckled dryly. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Or I'm fired. I got it, Janice. Nice to know you've always got my back, okay?" "And that you've got my throat."