Chapter 1: The Body in the Alley

The rain poured down in sheets as Elara Nightingale hurried through the dark streets of Ravenshadow City. Her phone had buzzed at midnight with a message from the police: "Dead body found. Strange marks. Need you now."

Elara pulled her coat tighter. At twenty-eight, she was the youngest doctor in the city who studied dead bodies to solve crimes. Most people thought her job was creepy, but Elara loved finding answers that others couldn't.

"Why me?" she grumbled, splashing through puddles. "It's my night off."

The police lights flashed blue and red against the wet brick walls of the alley. Officer Chen waved her over, his face serious.

"Sorry to call you so late, Dr. Nightingale," he said. "But this one's... different."

Elara nodded, putting on her gloves. "Different how?"

"See for yourself."

Officer Chen lifted the yellow police tape, and Elara ducked under it. The narrow alley smelled like garbage and something else—something that made her nose twitch. It reminded her of the air before a lightning storm.

The body lay crushed against the wall, half-hidden by trash bags. It was a man, maybe thirty years old, with dark hair and pale skin. His eyes were open, staring at nothing.

But what made Elara gasp wasn't the dead man—it was the strange purple marks on his skin. They looked like the symbols from her dreams.

"What in the world?" she whispered.

The marks formed strange patterns—circles inside triangles, strange letters that weren't English, and twisted lines that seemed to move if she looked at them too long. They covered the man's arms and neck, sliding under his shirt.

"Have you ever seen anything like this?" Officer Chen asked.

Elara shook her head, but her heart pounded. She had seen these marks before—in dreams that woke her up screaming. Dreams she'd had since she was a little girl.

"Do you think it's some kind of gang thing?" another cop asked. "Maybe tattoos?"

"No," Elara said, leaning closer. "These aren't tattoos. They look like they were... burned into his skin."

She pulled out her camera and took pictures of each mark. Her hands shook slightly. How could the symbols from her dreams be on this dead man?

"Time of death?" Officer Chen asked.

Elara checked the body temperature and stiffness. "Between 8 and 10 PM tonight. He hasn't been dead long."

She looked at the man's face. He seemed peaceful, like he was sleeping. No signs of pain or fear.

"What killed him?" Officer Chen asked. "I don't see any wounds."

Elara frowned. "I don't know yet. I'll need to do more tests back at the lab."

She gently turned the man's head to check for damage. As her fingers touched his skin, something impossible happened.

The purple marks started to glow.

Elara jumped back, bumping into Officer Chen. "Did you see that?"

The cop looked confused. "See what?"

She looked again. The marks were normal now—no glow, no light. Had she dreamed it?

"Nothing. Sorry. Just tired," she said quickly.

Elara took a deep breath and reached for the body again. This time, she watched carefully as her fingers got closer.

The marks didn't glow. But something else happened—a tingly sensation ran up her arms. And then she saw it. A faint blue light coming from her own fingers.

She yanked her hands back, hiding them in her pockets. Her heart raced so fast she could barely breathe.

"Dr. Nightingale? Are you okay?" Officer Chen looked worried.

"Yes, fine," she lied. "Just didn't expect to see these... marks."

She forced herself to finish studying the body, careful not to touch the purple symbols again. Her hands felt warm and strange, like they were buzzing with energy.

"I'll need to take him back to the lab," she said, trying to keep her voice calm. "There's something very unusual about this death."

As the body was put into the ambulance, Elara checked her phone. Three missed calls from an unknown number. Strange.

Back at the lab, Elara worked alone. She liked the night shift—fewer people asking questions, more time to think. But tonight, the empty lab felt eerie. The shadows seemed darker, the quiet heavier.

She laid the body on the metal table and turned on the bright lights. The purple marks stood out even more clearly now. Carefully, she began to record each one, comparing them to the symbols she remembered from her dreams.

They matched. Exactly.

"This is impossible," she whispered.

Elara's hands trembled as she drew blood samples and checked for toxins. Everything looked normal, except for a strange metallic compound she couldn't name.

The clock on the wall showed 3 AM when she finally cut the man's shirt open to study his chest.

What she saw made her drop her scissors with a crash.

A big symbol covered his chest—a crescent moon inside a circle, with three stars around it. It was the main symbol from her nightmares, the one that always showed just before she woke up screaming.

"How is this possible?" she whispered.

Without thinking, she reached out and touched the mark.

The response was instant and terrifying. The sign glowed bright purple, and Elara's hand lit up with blue fire. But the fire didn't burn—it felt cool and tingly, like mint on her skin.

The dead man's eyes snapped open.

Elara screamed and fell backward, knocking over a tray of instruments. The crash echoed through the empty building.

The body didn't move. The eyes stared blankly at the ceiling. The glow faded.

Elara pressed herself against the wall, her heart beating so hard it hurt. Had she dreamed it? Was she going crazy?

Slowly, hands shaking, she approached the body again. The eyes were closed, just as they had been before.

"Get a grip, Elara," she told herself. "Dead bodies don't open their eyes."

She reached for her phone to call someone—anyone—but stopped when she saw her hands. Blue light spun under her skin, fading slowly like dying glow sticks.

The lab door banged open.

Elara spun around, hiding her hands behind her back.

A tall guy with dark hair and intense eyes stood in the doorway. He wore a black coat and a police tag on his belt, but Elara had never seen him before.

"Dr. Nightingale?" His voice was deep and cold. "I'm Detective Thorne Davidsyn. We need to talk about the body you found."

His eyes flicked to the body, then back to Elara. For a second, she thought she saw yellow flecks in his dark eyes.

"How did you know about this body?" she asked. "I just brought it in."

Detective Davidsyn stepped closer, sniffing the air like he could smell her fear.

"That's what we need to discuss," he said. "That man was murdered. And if you touched those marks, you're next."

Behind her, without either of them noticing, the dead man's finger twitched.