Run: 2026-07-25-01KYCV64M9FJB4G5BGYA1SG3JY

The crisp autumn air of Alborn, Minnesota, carried the distant, sweet scent of baking pies from the town square, but inside the cozy warmth of the Rusty Apple Café, the atmosphere was thick with unease. Selvi sat at a corner wooden table, her fingers gently tracing the matte black body of her camera. Through the viewfinder, she had captured the vibrant reds and golds of the Midwest foliage, but her most recent photos—snapped near the edge of the woods during the evening mist—held something far more disturbing. Her eyes were wide, fixed on the LCD screen, replaying a horrifying split-second frame she barely understood. A shadow fell over the table. Detective Hunter towered over her, his broad shoulders and no-nonsense posture radiating a tense, military efficiency. He flipped open a small leather notebook, his sharp eyes scanning her before locking onto the camera in her hands. "Excuse me," Hunter said, his voice deep and gravelly. "Ma'am. Detective Hunter. I need to ask you about what happened down by the creek yesterday evening. Word is, you were out there with your camera taking landscape shots when the Miller girl went missing. Did you see anything?" Selvi looked up, her breath hitching. She gripped the strap of her camera, her knuckles turning white. She shook her head frantically, pouring out her terror in a rapid, trembling stream of Hindi. Selvi: "Maine use dekha! Wah wahan tha, pedon ke peechhe! Ek saaya... usne us ladki ko kheech liya, aur main kuch nahi kar paye! Mujhe dar lag raha hai, yahan kuch bahut bura ho raha hai!" Hunter stared down at her, his brow furrowing into a hard, uncomprehending knot. He slowly closed his notebook an inch, blinking as he tried to parse a single familiar syllable from the flood of foreign words. Hunter: "Whoa, slow down. I don't... look, I don't speak a word of whatever language that is. Do you speak English? *English?*" Selvi pressed a hand to her chest, her heart hammering against her ribs. She tapped the screen of her camera urgently, trying to bridge the gap with gestures and panicked Hindi. Selvi: "Photo! Isme hai! Dekhiye, wahi aadmi, wahi saya! Mujhe madad chahiye, mujhe yahan se door jana hai!" Hunter pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a heavy, frustrated sigh. He held up a palm to pause her, realizing getting a statement was going to be an impossible wall of a task without an interpreter. Hunter: "Look, I need you to stay calm. Just... stay right here. Don't go anywhere. I'll see if I can find someone from the college to translate." Before Selvi could frantically beg him to look at the screen herself, the low, jarring buzz of a burner phone vibrated loudly from inside Hunter’s heavy wool coat. Hunter pulled the phone out with a scowl, glancing at the caller ID. The line tightened around his mouth. He tapped the accept button and brought it to his ear, his no-nonsense demeanor instantly snapping back into razor-sharp focus. Hunter: "Hunter. Yeah, go ahead... What do you mean they found something? Yeah. Alright, I'm on my way." Hunter shoved the phone back into his pocket and looked down at Selvi, who was clutching her camera like a lifeline. Hunter: "Duty calls. Stay put. We're not finished talking." Without another word, Hunter turned on his heel and strode briskly out of the café, leaving Selvi alone with the ghosts trapped inside her lens.