2025-11-18 05:47:32
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SIGNALS WITHOUT NAMES
Detective Mira Hale really wasn't a fan of mornings like this.It wasn't the coffee, usually tasting like burnt disappointment, or the recycled air at the precinct that always seemed to carry the faint, peculiar scent of old paper mixed with a weary sort of regret. No, it was the quiet that got to her. The heavy stillness that settled in after a night where far too much had happened, and no one could quite make heads or tails of it yet.She stood by the main board, arms folded tight, her gaze sweeping over the haphazard collection of reports. No faces. No obvious culprits. Just dots on a map, times that didn't quite add up, and words that stubbornly refused to connect into anything resembling a story.Security details unresponsive.A patrol unit vanished.Witnesses saw movement in places they shouldn't have.And not a single body to show for it.James was leaning against a desk not far off, idly scrolling through a tablet with one hand while the other massaged his temple. "Run me thr
QUIET THINGS THAT DON'T BREAK
The room was too clean.Diego sat on the edge of the bed, hands resting flat on his thighs, spine straight the way Dominic had taught him. Even alone, his body held the posture. Control first. Always.The walls were pale stone, unmarred by decoration. No windows, only a recessed panel that adjusted light according to schedules he hadn’t chosen. The air smelled faintly of antiseptic and metal, a neutral scent meant to calm, to erase.It didn’t.Something inside him kept reaching—then stopping short, like fingers brushing glass.He closed his eyes.Breathing in. Counting. Breathing out.It worked. Mostly.But memory didn’t listen to discipline.The Evans’ kitchen came back to him without warning, the clatter of a spoon dropped into a sink, the hum of an old refrigerator that complained more than it cooled. The way the floor creaked near the back door. The smell of burnt toast on mornings when no one was really paying attention.Claire’s laugh. Too loud. Too sudden. The way it burst o
UNLEASHED, NOT UNBOUND
Lewis stood at the edge of the chamber.The Underworld did not resemble a city so much as a body—layered, pulsing, alive in ways the surface could never understand. Sound traveled differently here. So did fear.The feral vampires waited.They filled every level of the space, gathered on iron walkways and concrete ledges, crouched in shadows and open corridors alike. Hundreds of them. Some old enough to remember the Monaghan name before it meant domination. Others so recently turned that their hunger still outpaced their thoughts.None of them moved.Lewis had broken that instinct out of them months ago.“Dominic will respond,” the Unknown Man said. “He always does.”Lewis didn’t look at him. His attention remained fixed on the central display—a map not of streets, but of influence. Territory. Lines of obedience glowing faintly across the city.“Of course he will,” Lewis said. “That’s the point.”He stepped forward, boots echoing once. The ferals reacted instantly—backs straightening,
DEAD ZONES
The call came in just before sunrise.Detective Mira Alvarez was already awake, sitting at the small kitchen table in her apartment, coffee untouched, files spread out like a losing hand. She’d stopped pretending sleep was an option weeks ago. Not since the bodies started turning up wrong.Her phone buzzed.She didn’t look at the screen before answering.“Alvarez.”“We’ve got another one,” dispatch said. “Warehouse district. Dockside. You’re closest.”Mira closed her eyes for half a second.“On my way.”The warehouse smelled like iron and salt and something sour that didn’t belong near water.Police lights painted the corrugated metal walls red and blue, but the colors didn’t warm the place. They never did anymore. Too many scenes like this. Too many nights where the city felt hollowed out.Detective James Rowan ducked under the tape as Mira approached.“You’re late,” he said.“You’re early,” she replied.He handed her gloves. “You’re not going to like this one.”She put them on anyw
BLIND ANGLES
The city kept moving.People crossed streets. Trains ran on time. Screens flashed headlines that meant nothing to the ones who mattered. Routine wrapped itself around the city like armor, convincing everyone that structure meant safety.Dominic Monaghan returned to his study without a word to anyone. The door sealed behind him with a muted click, shutting out the rest of the mansion.Raphael’s voice still lingered in his mind—not loud, not threatening.Worse.Certain.Dominic set his phone down slowly as systems recalibrated around him. Security feeds shifted. Patrol routes updated. Surveillance priority lists reordered themselves in quiet obedience. Names surfaced on internal displays—old ones. Forgotten ones.Blood that believed it was owed something.“Find him,” Dominic said quietly into the room. “I don’t care where he’s been hiding.”The system acknowledged at once.Raphael had always been dangerous—not because he was reckless, but because he understood restraint. Because he kn
GATHERING PRESSURE
The city kept moving.People crossed streets. Trains ran on time. Screens flashed headlines that meant nothing to the ones who mattered.Dominic Monaghan returned to his study without a word to anyone.The door sealed behind him with a muted click.Raphael’s voice still lingered in his mind—not loud, not threatening. Worse.Certain.Dominic set his phone down slowly, eyes narrowing as systems recalibrated around him. Security feeds shifted. Patrol routes updated. Names surfaced on internal lists—old ones. Forgotten ones.Blood that believed it was owed something.“Find him,” Dominic said quietly into the room. “I don’t care where he’s been hiding.”The system acknowledged.Raphael had always been dangerous—not because he was reckless, but because he understood restraint. Because he knew when not to move.And now he had.Dominic’s jaw tightened.Too many pressure points were activating at once.That never happened by accident.Leo stood alone in the main hall long after Dominic disapp
