Ladybug10009
Before the first body was found, the city believed it was safe.
It trusted in streetlights and locked doors, in sirens that arrived too late and shadows that were supposed to mean nothing. It did not remember the fire that once burned a forgotten chapel to ash-or the blood spilled beneath it.
But blood remembers.
When the symbol appeared again, carved into flesh and stone, it was not a warning. It was an invitation. An ancient ritual, unfinished and patient, began to stir-calling for omens, sacrifices, and a door that had once been left ajar.
Detective Elias Vance would be told he was hunting a killer.
He would learn too late that he was something far more dangerous.
Because the Crimson Alter does not seek the innocent.
It waits for the one who survived.