The rain hadn't stopped in three days. It fell in thin, deliberate sheets, hissing against the empty streets like a whispering crowd. Detective Jeena Raines parked her car beside the half-collapsed sign that read Gleymore District Forensics Division, and exhaled slowly before stepping out.
She had slept three hours in the last forty-eight. Her coffee was black, bitter, and useless. But she wasn't here for rest — not when another body had turned up near the ridge north of Point Veert.
The coroner met her at the gate — short, sharp-eyed, already holding an umbrella and a folder too thick to be good news."Three victims this month," he said without preamble. "All near the same area. Same tissue patterns."
Jeena's jaw tightened. "Show me."
Inside the morgue, the air was sterile but heavy. Fluorescent lights hummed overhead, pale against metal. The coroner pulled back the white sheet with the same hesitation he'd use for a ticking bomb.
The woman on the table was young — maybe a student. Her veins were visible beneath her skin, dark and branching, like black roots spreading from her heart.
Jeena leaned closer. "Cause of death?"
"Technically… heart failure. But look here." He pointed at the tissue slides under the microscope. "Foreign compound detected in the blood — bio-reactive crystalline residue. It fluoresces under UV."
"Crystalline?" Jeena frowned. "As in… mineral contamination?"
"Closer to biological mineralization. Like the body's reacting to something alien."
She stood silent for a moment, studying the unnatural web of veins that looked almost lit from within. "And all three victims — connected how?"
"They all went missing after attending an academic exchange program. Point Veert College."
The name hit like a small, invisible pulse through her chest. Jeena set the folder down slowly."Ethan Callahan and Seth Donovan," she murmured. "They're at Point Veert too."
The coroner looked up. "You know them?"
"More than I should."
Her phone buzzed. A new message — unknown number. "They are studying what killed her. Stay away."
She stared at the text for several seconds. No ID. No trace.
"Burner message?" the coroner asked, noticing her face.
"Maybe," she said quietly. "Or maybe someone doesn't want me near that flower."
Outside, the rain intensified.
She got into her car, turned the ignition, and pulled out onto the slick road leading north. The forest line loomed in the distance — black, endless, breathing. The GPS blinked uncertainly, struggling to find a signal as she entered the fog-drenched hills.
Halfway up the path, she saw it — an old signpost at a crossroads, half-eaten by moss:POINT VEERT RESEARCH INSTITUTE — 4 KM.RESTRICTED ACCESS. TRESPASSERS WILL BE PROSECUTED.
She parked there, switched off the engine, and listened. Beneath the patter of rain, something else moved — a soft, rhythmic vibration, like the earth itself was breathing.
Jeena stepped out, flashlight in hand, scanning the tree line. The soil here was wrong — too red, almost rust-colored, and warm under her boots.
She crouched and touched the ground. Her fingers came away tinged with crimson dust. Not mud — powdered mineral.
Something glinted near a fallen log. She picked it up — a fragment of crystal, faintly pulsating like it had a heartbeat.
Her radio crackled suddenly. "Detective Raines, come in. We've got lab results back on the compound."
"Go ahead."
"It's partially organic. Contains traces of Scadoxus multiflorus — Blood Lily — fused with alkaloids found in Turbina corymbosa. But there's an unidentified third compound — crystalline, possibly extraterrestrial."
Jeena straightened, rain streaking her coat. "Meteoric origin?"
"Could be. Or something that fell a long time ago."
She looked down at the crystal fragment again. It shimmered faintly under her flashlight, almost responding to her voice. "Copy that," she said. "Keep the sample classified. No database uploads."
"Understood."
Jeena slipped the fragment into a sealed pouch, zipped her jacket, and started back toward the car. But before she could reach it, she froze.
Someone was standing at the edge of the forest.
A man — tall, hunched slightly, wearing a soaked janitor's coat with the Point Veert insignia stitched faintly over the breast pocket. His face was half in shadow, half illuminated by her beam.
"You shouldn't touch that," he said softly. His voice was low, gravelly, as if unused for years.
Jeena kept her distance. "You work there?"
He nodded. "Used to. Now I just keep it clean… what's left of it."
"What is it? That mineral?"
He tilted his head. "A seed that fell from the sky. They fed it to a flower. Now it feeds on them."
Jeena's grip tightened on the flashlight. "The victims?"
He smiled faintly — a sad, knowing smile. "Victims. Volunteers. It's hard to tell the difference in that place."
"Who's running it?" she asked. "The research, the hybrids?"
He stepped back, into the mist. "You won't find him in the lab. You'll find him in the mirror."
And then he was gone.
The mist swallowed him whole, leaving only the echo of rain and a faint shimmer of crimson light where he'd stood.
Jeena stood rooted for a long moment, her pulse steady but her breath uneven. The forest around her no longer felt empty. It felt awake. Watching. Waiting.
She got into the car and called one number — Ethan's.
No answer.
She tried again. Nothing.
Finally, Seth's line. After three rings, a click.
"Hello?" Seth's voice, faint, distorted, like the signal was bending through interference.
"Seth, it's Jeena. Listen carefully. I don't have much time."
"Jeena? We—"
Static surged, loud and sharp. His voice cut out, replaced by a single low hum — the same frequency she'd heard earlier beneath the forest floor.
The call died.
Jeena lowered the phone slowly. Her reflection in the windshield looked pale, ghostlike. For the first time in a long time, she felt the rare, cold edge of fear.
She turned the key. The car lights cut through the fog, illuminating the dirt road ahead — except now, etched faintly across the mud, were tire tracks leading deeper into the forest.
She hadn't been the first one here tonight.
As she followed the tracks, the radio clicked once — no voice, just a faint whisper that wasn't static. A whisper that repeated three words she couldn't unhear:
"The Blood remembers."