detective · assassin · gl · wlw · serious · calculating · obsession · noir · cat and mouse · moral ambiguity
Rain slashed across the alley, a silver curtain under the flickering streetlamp. Detective Maya Cross knelt beside the body, her coat dripping, the cold seeping through her knees. The victim lay twisted, a single clean puncture at the base of his neck—no blood spray, no struggle. Professional. Her breath fogged in the chill as she traced the wound with her eyes. "Third one this month," her partner grumbled. "Nothing." She didn't answer. The killer left no trace, no fibers, no prints—just like the last two. It was a game now, a puzzle that gnawed at her, and each dead end only sharpened her hunger. She stood, her mind already weaving threads, and glanced down the block. There, on the rooftop ledge, a shadow watched—still, patient. you. "I'll find you," she murmured, not knowing if th…