Chapter 1:The First Omen
Detective Elias Vance pulled his coat tighter against the biting wind as he stepped under the flickering glow of a streetlamp. The crime scene was set like a stage—caution tape stretched across the alleyway, casting eerie shadows against the rain-slicked pavement. The body lay motionless, the crimson stain spreading across the victim's chest like ink on parchment.
Sergeant Harper stood by, his face pale under the dull glow of the city lights. "It's the third one this month," he muttered. "Same pattern."
Vance crouched beside the body, his keen eyes scanning the scene. The victim—a young woman, late twenties—was positioned deliberately, arms crossed over her chest as if in mock reverence. A small, folded piece of paper rested in her palm. Vance reached for it, his gloved fingers careful as he unfolded the message. The words, written in deep red ink, sent a chill through him.
"The first omen has come. The blood moon rises."
Vance clenched his jaw. This wasn't just a murder. This was a message.
He looked up at Harper. "Where's the witness?"
Harper nodded toward a trembling figure near the squad car—a homeless man, eyes wide with terror. Vance approached slowly, his voice steady. "You saw what happened?"
The man swallowed hard. "Didn't see his face. Just...a shadow. Tall. Moved like a ghost. But I saw him leave somethin' on the ground before he disappeared."
Vance turned back to the scene. Sure enough, just outside the chalk outline of the victim's body, there was something half-buried in the wet gravel. He knelt and retrieved it—a small, ornate coin, its surface engraved with an unfamiliar symbol.
Harper peered over his shoulder. "That looks ancient."
Vance nodded grimly. "And deliberate."
A gust of wind sent a newspaper skittering across the alley. Vance barely noticed—his mind was already spinning. Three victims. Three messages. And now, a token left behind like a signature.
This wasn't just a killer.
This was a ritual.
And if the note was right, the real
horror was just beginning.
Chapter 2 :The Blood Moon Warning
The rain had stopped, but the city remained drenched in the residue of the storm. Detective Elias Vance stood outside the morgue, his cigarette smoldering between his fingers. The victim from the alley now lay under sterile white lights, but her murder was anything but clean. The message still burned in his mind:
A warning. Or a prophecy.
Vance exhaled sharply, flicking the cigarette into the gutter before stepping inside. The air was cold, heavy with the scent of antiseptic and something darker—death. Dr. Evelyn Raines, the medical examiner, glanced up from the autopsy table.
"You're not going to like this," she said, peeling off her gloves.
"I don't like anything about this case." Vance walked closer, eyeing the body.
"The stab wound to the heart was precise. Almost surgical." Raines pulled back the sheet, revealing the victim's pale skin. "But that's not what's bothering me." She turned the body slightly, exposing the nape of the woman's neck. Carved into her flesh was a symbol—intricate, deliberate, and terrifying.
Vance's stomach tightened. It was the same symbol etched onto the coin he had found at the crime scene.
"What the hell does it mean?" he muttered.
Raines shook her head. "I sent images to a few experts. So far, no one's seen anything quite like it. But it's old. Really old." She hesitated. "And one more thing... her blood."
Vance looked up sharply. "What about it?"
"It's missing."
A heavy silence settled between them.
"What do you mean, missing?" Vance's voice was low, controlled.
"There's hardly any livor mortis, and the body's been drained almost completely. But there's no sign of where the blood went. No pooling. No spatter. Like it just... vanished."
A cold sensation crawled up Vance's spine. Ritualistic. Symbolic. Deliberate.
The coin. The message. The missing blood.
This wasn't just a murder. It was a sacrifice.
Before he could respond, his phone buzzed. An unknown number. He hesitated, then answered.
A distorted voice whispered through the receiver:
"You're already too late, Detective. The second omen is near."
The call cut out.
Vance stood frozen, gripping the phone, his breath sharp and steady.
Outside, beyond the city
skyline, the blood moon had begun to rise.
