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Chapter Fifty Eight : The Ashes Don't Lie
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2025-06-13 22:59:29
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The Full Moon Murders Chapter Fifty Nine : The Red Scarf Protocol
Evelyn kept her sidearm raised, finger just off the trigger.The woman in the red scarf didn’t flinch.“You knew my mother,” Evelyn said. “Start talking.”The woman took a deliberate step forward. "Maris didn’t just work on Bellwether. She initiated it. She was trying to solve something you don’t yet understand."Evelyn gritted her teeth. “Try me.”“You were born from the solution,” the woman replied calmly. “But the solution never came.”Evelyn’s pulse spiked. “Who are you?”“Codename Lysandra. Officially? I don’t exist. But your mother and I... we built the first version of the Placement Protocol together. Before Damian corrupted it. Before The Circle took control.”She glanced at the van. “They’re moving Wendy because she broke containment. She remembers too much. You want the truth? You need her alive.”“Then why are you here?” Evelyn demanded. “To warn me? Or clean up after the Circle?”“I’m here,” Lysandra said, “because you're about to make the same mistake your mother did. And
The Full Moon Murders Chapter Fifty Eight : The Ashes Don't Lie
The envelope slipped from Evelyn’s fingers.She stared at the article, the circled name, the accusation inked beneath in a sharp, angry scrawl. She lied to you. You’re not the only one they made. The paper crinkled in her grip as her mind raced.Wendy.Was she part of it? Another subject like Evelyn? Or worse — a plant? A lie wrapped in grief, dropped on that rooftop just to set Evelyn on this path?But then why save her? Why deliver the envelope, the photo, the warning?Unless that too had been orchestrated.Evelyn stood abruptly, the room suddenly too small. Her breathing sounded loud in the silence. She walked to the sink and splashed water on her face, gripping the porcelain edges until her knuckles turned white.She couldn’t trust anyone — not even the people who seemed broken like her. Especially not them.A knock.Not at the door this time — her window.She turned fast, gun already in hand, safety off. But when she pulled the curtain back, she froze.It was Mason.Rain soaked t
The Full Moon Murders Chapter Fifty Seven: The Rooftop
The stairwell smelled like rust and dust, every step up echoing with the weight of memory.Evelyn pushed open the heavy rooftop door. Wind rushed her face, cold and cutting. Rain slicked the concrete. The city stretched out in all directions — but all she saw was the figure standing near the edge.Female. Mid-thirties maybe. Back turned. Long coat flapping in the wind.“Don’t come any closer!” the woman shouted without turning.Evelyn stopped in her tracks. Raised both hands. “I’m not here to stop you. I just want to talk.”“I know who you are,” the woman said. Her voice trembled. “Detective Evelyn Black. Daughter of Michael Black. They told me you were gone.”“I’m here now,” Evelyn said. “Who told you that?”A pause. A long one.Then the woman finally turned her head — just enough to show her profile.Evelyn’s heart jumped.She knew that face.Or thought she did.“You were in one of his files,” she said. “Wendy Arlo. You went missing in 2004.”Wendy’s eyes welled. “No one misses what
The Full Moon Murders Chapter Fifty Six: "The Cake, the Candle, the Clue"
The precinct smelled like old coffee, bleach, and something Evelyn couldn’t name. Something tense, like air before a storm.She didn’t want to be here.Not like this. Not after everything. But Reyes had told her to lay low, and truth be told, she didn’t know where else to go anymore.“Hey,” Mason said, falling into step beside her as she passed the bullpen. “Just for a minute. Come on.”She narrowed her eyes. “What now?”He didn’t answer — just nodded toward the break room.When she walked in, it hit her: balloons. Cheap ones. A lopsided cake from a local bakery. A single candle.She froze.Someone — probably Elara — had scrawled “Happy Birthday, E” on a folded napkin and pinned it to the bulletin board.“Don’t look at me like that,” Mason said. “It’s just cake. Doesn’t mean we’re not still hunting traitors.”She half-smiled. Half-grimaced.“I forgot it was today.”“You forgot your own birthday?”“I forget a lot of things lately.”He handed her a plastic fork and muttered, “Make a wis
The Full Moon Murders Chapter Fifty Five: The Line We Cross
The buzz of the holding cell door echoed louder than it should have. Evelyn stepped through, the cold air biting against her bruised skin, and left the door open behind her.Damian stood. The cuffs at his wrists clinked like a dare.“I’ll take that as a yes,” he muttered.Evelyn didn’t answer. Not yet. She was still looking at him like a puzzle with too many burned edges. She hated that he still had answers. Hated more that she might need them.“I’m not releasing you,” she said. “You’re coming with me. Controlled. Watched. The second you try to run, I put you down.”Damian smiled faintly. “Romantic.”“Don’t test me.”He didn’t. He held out his wrists, and she unlocked the cuffs without breaking eye contact. He rubbed his wrists slowly, like someone tasting freedom one nerve at a time.“You’re bleeding,” he said.She touched the dried blood at her collarbone. “It’s old.”“No, it’s not.”She turned and walked. If he wanted to push buttons, he’d have to catch up.Outside, the rain had re
The Full Moon Murders Chapter Fifty Four : Blood Inside Water
The wolves had circled her.Feral, old blood, even some half-turned. Dozens of eyes glinting in the dark, drawn by something deeper than instinct — something ancient. And Evelyn, standing at the shattered altar, no longer hiding from what she was.She didn’t command them. She didn’t plead.She felt them. Their pain. Their rage. Their history.And they followed her because they knew — she wasn’t made in a lab or built by some twisted protocol.She was born of ruin. Of lineage.Of war.Rowan stepped forward, his voice steady. “There’s a reason they kept Morrow off every map. The town was a tomb — but also a vault. Come.”He led her to the remains of the chapel’s back wall, where soot covered an old trapdoor. The wood groaned as they pulled it open. Below, a stairway chiseled in stone, damp and trembling. Evelyn hesitated, but her pulse knew the way. flickered on their own — old flame sensors. The corridor was narrow and lined with relics: faded banners, blood-stained parchment, and etc
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