Run: 2026-07-25-01KYD4YJ0SSMPTFX95VQ3CDZ2E

The lighthouse had not shone for three nights, and Inspector Hale arrived through relentless coastal storm alone at midnight exactly. The door was open, banging rhythmically, revealing Evelyn Crowe dead upon the cold stone floor beneath shattered bloodied lantern glass. Beside her lay a single, perfectly clean dinner plate, though the island had been abandoned for months before tonight's horror. Hale knelt, noticed her fingers clenched tightly around a sodden scrap bearing his own familiar name in faded ink unmistakably. Outside, the wind abruptly died, replaced by deliberate footsteps climbing the spiral stairs behind him slowly steadily without hesitation now.