The Full Moon Murder

The city never truly slept, but on full moon nights, it felt different-like something old and wild moved underneath, a dark presence hiding nearby. Detective Evelyn Cross had learned to trust her instincts, and right now, they were screaming at her, a loud mix of warning bells rang in her mind.

She stood outside the police station, drinking a cup of coffee that had long been cold, the bitter taste a reminder of the urgency that gnawed at her insides. The streetlights buzzed overhead, casting long, distorted shadows on the pavement, as if the very ground was alive with secrets. Inside, the station was a lot of activity-phones ringing, officers moving back and forth, the air thick with tension-but none of it reached her. Not after what her boss had just told her.

Another body. Another night. Another brutal crime scene.

The killer struck only on full moons, leaving behind the victims so deformed that even the most seasoned officers had to turn away, their faces pale and drawn. Five bodies in six months, all torn apart like they had been mauled by a wild animal. No fingerprints. No murder weapon. No witnesses.

And now, the case was hers.

Evelyn exhaled sharply, steeling herself before walking back inside. The precinct smelled of stale coffee and sweat, the air thick with frustration and fear. She could feel it in her bones-the weight of the city's dread pressing down on her.

"Detective Cross!"

The voice cut through her thoughts like a knife. She turned to see Captain Harris standing by his office, his grizzled face set in a grim expression that sent a chill down her spine. He gestured for her to come in, and she obeyed, closing the door behind her with a sense of foreboding.

"Sir?" she asked her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her.

Harris sighed, he rubbed the sides of his head, trying to ease his stress. "The mayor is breathing down my neck. The press is calling this a serial killer, the public is terrified, and we still have nothing." He leaned back, his gaze piercing. "I need results, Cross. You've got a sharp mind. Figure this out before another body drops."

Evelyn nodded, determination hardening her resolve. "I won't let this one slip, sir."

"You'd better not," Harris muttered, his voice low and dangerous. "Because the last time someone took this case, they ended up dead."

She stiffened, her heart racing. "What?"

Harris slid a file across the desk, the sound sharp and final. "Open it."

Evelyn hesitated, a sense of dread pooling in her stomach. She flipped the folder open, her breath catching in her throat. The crime scene photos were old and yellowed with age, but the wounds on the victims were identical to the ones in her case-gaping, jagged lacerations that spoke of unspeakable violence.

She scanned the report, her pulse hammering in her ears.

Lead investigator: Detective Michael Cross.

Her father.

The world tilted on its axis. "My dad worked this case?"

Harris nodded, his expression grave. "Thirty years ago. Same pattern, same full moons, same damn claw marks. He never solved it. And then, one night... he vanished."

Evelyn's grip tightened on the file, her knuckles white. She barely remembered the details of her father's disappearance. She had been just a child when he never came home. The official report said he was killed in the line of duty. But now? Now she wasn't so sure.

"Do you think these cases are connected?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Harris met her gaze, his eyes dark with unspoken fears. "I don't believe in coincidences."

Neither did she.

An hour later, Evelyn stood at the newest crime scene; the alley was a scary and shocking sight. The air was thick with the metallic scent of blood and damp concrete, a sickening reminder of the violence that had unfolded here. The yellow crime scene tape flapped in the breeze, a warning that felt all too fragile as she stepped past the forensics team.

"Cross," her partner, Detective Cole Ramirez, called out, crouching near the body. "You're gonna want to see this."

Evelyn moved closer, her stomach churning as she looked at the victim. The man's chest was torn open, deep gashes running from his ribs down to his stomach, the flesh shredded as if by a beast. Blood soaked the pavement, pooling beneath him like a dark, ominous omen.

But it wasn't just the violence of the crime that unsettled her. It was the precision.

"This wasn't done with a knife," Evelyn muttered, her voice thick with disbelief.

Ramirez nodded grimly, his brow furrowed. "Looks like an animal attack. But we're in the middle of the city, and no one saw anything."

Evelyn frowned, her instincts flaring. "Check the cameras?"

"Already did. Nothing. It's like whatever did this just... disappeared."

A cold shiver ran down her spine, a primal fear that whispered of something lurking just beyond the edges of her understanding.

"Who is he?" she asked, forcing herself to focus.

"Daniel Greaves," Ramirez said, his voice low. "Investment banker. No criminal record. Just a regular guy in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Evelyn studied the body, then glanced at the walls of the alley. Deep claw marks gouged into the brick as if something had climbed or leaped away, leaving behind a trail of terror.

She didn't like this.

Something wasn't adding up. They left the crime scene

Back at her apartment, Evelyn poured herself a drink, the amber liquid swirling in the glass like the chaos in her mind. She spread out every file she had-her father's old case, the current victims, the same patterns, the same full moons.

And one name that kept surfacing in her research.

Voss Enterprises.

A powerful corporation that had been around for decades, owned by a man whose influence stretched across the city-Damian Voss.

His name was never directly linked to the murders. But victims worked for his businesses. Some had been seen at his exclusive clubs. And her father... he had been investigating something about Voss before he vanished.

Her hands tightened around the case files, the paper crumpling beneath her grip.

Was Damian Voss a suspect? Or was he something worse?

Evelyn leaned back in her chair, rubbing her head, the weight of the evidence pressing down on her. It wasn't enough to make an arrest, but it all pointed in one direction-Damian Voss.

Billionaire. Businessman. Untouchable.

And somehow, connected to these murders.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a noise-something shifting outside her window.

Evelyn tensed, reaching for her gun. She lived on the fourth floor. No one should be out there.

Slowly, she moved toward the window, her heart pounding in her chest. The city lights cast long shadows across her apartment, but she saw nothing outside. No movement. No sign of anyone watching.

And yet, the uneasy feeling in her gut didn't fade.

Her phone buzzed the screen, lighting up with a blocked number.

She hesitated, then answered, her voice steady. "Detective Cross."

Silence.

Then, a low, controlled voice spoke, each word dripping with menace.

"You're looking in the wrong places."

Evelyn's grip on the phone tightened, her pulse racing. "Who is this?"

"A word of advice-walk away while you still can."

Her jaw clenched, anger flaring. "Or what?"

A pause, heavy and suffocating. Then the voice dropped lower, a whisper that sent chills racing down her spine.

"Or you'll end up like your father."

A chill ran through her, icy fingers wrapping around her heart.

The call disconnected, leaving her standing in the suffocating silence, the dead air ringing in her ears.

Her father had vanished without a trace. Nobody. No leads. Just a cold case buried under years of unanswered questions.

And now, someone wanted to make sure she didn't find out the truth.

Evelyn exhaled, forcing herself to stay calm. They wanted her to back off. Which meant she was getting close.

She wasn't walking away.

If Damian Voss held the answers, she would get them. One way or another.

And this time, she wouldn't end up like her father.

This time, she was ready.

Evelyn barely had time to react.

Evelyn couldn't stay in her apartment. Not after the call. Not after the warning. The moment she stepped into the parking lot outside her apartment, a hand clamped over her mouth, dragging her backward. Instinct kicked in. She drove her elbow into the attacker's ribs and twisted free, stumbling onto the pavement.

A figure in black lunged at her. No hesitation. She fired.

The gunshot echoed through the night, but the bullet never landed. The figure moved impossibly fast, sidestepping at the last second. A gloved fist smashed into her wrist, knocking the gun from her grip.

Pain exploded through her arm, but she didn't stop. She pivoted, slamming a knee into the attacker's stomach. They grunted but didn't fall.

Whoever they were, they were strong. Too strong.

Evelyn reached for her backup knife, but before she could draw it, the figure grabbed her by the collar and hurled her backward. She hit the ground hard, air rushing from her lungs.

The attacker stepped forward, a shadow against the dim glow of the streetlights.

Then, they spoke. A voice low and guttural.

"Stay away from Voss."

Evelyn's blood ran cold.

Voss. The name comes from her father's old case. The name is tied to every single murder.

She forced herself up, ignoring the pain. "Who are you?"

The attacker didn't answer. Instead, they took a step back-and then they were gone.

Not running. Not retreating. Just... gone.

Like they had vanished into thin air.

A shiver crawled up her spine. She scrambled to her feet, grabbing her gun with shaking fingers. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. The parking lot was empty. No sign of movement. No footsteps.

Nothing.

She wasn't alone. Something-someone-was still watching.

Sirens blared in the distance.

Evelyn turned and sprinted to her car. She had one name, one lead, and now, a very real threat breathing down her neck.

Damian Voss wasn't just connected to this case.

He was at the center of it.

And whoever was protecting him-they weren't human.

Evelyn didn't go home. She couldn't. Instead, she drove straight to the police station, gripping the wheel of the car like a lifeline.

Inside, Ramirez was waiting.

"What the hell happened to you?" he asked, eyeing her messy state.

"I was attacked." She threw her gun and badge onto the desk. "By someone fast. Inhumanly fast."

Ramirez frowned. "You think it's our guy?"

Evelyn shook her head. "No. I think it's something worse."

She reached for the case file and flipped through the reports. "I need everything on Voss. His businesses, his properties, any known associates."

Ramirez hesitated. "You think he's involved?"

Evelyn looked up, her expression grim.

"I don't think." She exhaled. "I know."

She ran a hand through her hair, trying to calm the storm of thoughts in her head.

Whoever attacked her knew she was investigating Voss. But she had only started looking into him hours ago.

How did they find out so fast?

A cold realization settled in her gut.

Someone was feeding Voss information.

Someone inside this building,she went to the surveillance room to ask for all the footage and they figured someone out.

Evelyn stood abruptly and stormed toward Harris's office. He was on the phone, but the moment he saw her expression, he hung up.

What now, Cross?" he grumbled.

Evelyn slammed her badge onto his desk. "We have a rat."

Harris frowned. "What the hell are you talking about?"

She leaned forward. "I barely scratched the surface of Voss's name, and I was already attacked. Someone inside this department is leaking information to him."

Harris stiffened, his jaw tightening. "You're making a serious accusation."

"I'm not accusing." She pulled out her phone and tossed it on the table. "I have proof."

She had gone to check into everyone financial records before concluding. Nothing official-just enough to see if anything was off.

And something was.

Detective Frank Decker-one of their own-had unexplained deposits in his bank account. Large sums of money arrive in increments. And each transfer aligned with a major development in the Full Moon case.

Harris's face darkened. "Decker?"

Evelyn nodded. "He's been selling our investigation to Voss."

Harris swore under his breath. "I'll handle this."

"No." Evelyn shook her head. "I need to move now. If Decker knows I found this, he'll warn them. I'm going to Voss Enterprises."

Harris stared at her, then sighed. "You're walking into a fire."

Evelyn grabbed her badge. "Then I'll make sure it burns."

Voss Enterprises

The towering glass building loomed against the night sky, sleek and untouchable.

Evelyn strode through the front doors, flashing her badge at security. "Detective Cross. I need to see Damian Voss."

The receptionist barely blinked. "Mr. Voss doesn't take unannounced visits."

Evelyn slammed a folder onto the counter. "Tell him I have evidence linking him to multiple murders. If he refuses, I'll have a warrant in the morning."

The receptionist hesitated, then made a call. Seconds later, a well-dressed man appeared. Tall, composed, with an unsettling calmness in his eyes.

Damian Voss.

He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Detective Cross. I've heard a lot about you."

Evelyn didn't bother with small talk. "You're under arrest."

His smile widened. "On what charges?"

She opened the folder, showing the connections-victims who worked for his businesses, financial records, and suspicious activity reports. It was all there.

But Voss barely glanced at it. "Detective, this is circumstantial at best."

Evelyn's jaw clenched. "Don't play games. We both know you're involved."

Voss chuckled, stepping closer. "Yet, legally, you can't touch me."

Evelyn hated that he was right. The evidence wasn't enough. It painted a picture, but not one strong enough to hold up in court.

She had come here hoping to shake him, to rattle his cage.

Instead, he looked... amused.

"You're persistent," Voss said, voice smooth. "Just like your father."

Evelyn froze.

Voss leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "He came for me once, too. Thought he could stop what's coming." He tilted his head. "Do you know what his last words were?"

Her breath hitched.

Voss smiled darkly. "I do."

Rage flared through her, but before she could react, two security guards stepped forward.

"I believe we're done here, Detective."

Evelyn's fists clenched. She wanted to fight. To break that smug expression off his face.

But she couldn't. Not yet.

She turned on her heel and walked out, her pulse hammering.

Voss had just confirmed what she feared.

Her father's disappearance wasn't random.

He had found something. Something dangerous.

And now, so had she.

This wasn't just a case anymore.

It was personal.

Evelyn barely drive back to the station. Her hands gripped the wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white. Damian Voss knew something-something about her father. He wanted her to know it, wanted to dangle the truth just out of reach.

Her mind replayed his words, over and over.

"Do you know what his last words were?"

That smug smile. That mocking tone.

Voss was taunting her.

But he had made a mistake.

She wasn't walking away.

She parked outside the station, heart hammering. The confrontation at Voss Enterprises had left her rattled, but she still had unfinished business. Detective Decker. The cop selling them out.

The moment she walked into the station, the noise felt different-forced, unnatural. Officers typed on their computers, chatted in groups, but there was an undercurrent of tension, a shift in the air.

They knew.

Evelyn's gaze locked onto Decker, standing near the vending machine, sipping coffee like nothing was wrong.

But he was wrong.

She strode toward him, her presence like a storm rolling in. He barely had time to react before she grabbed his collar and slammed him against the wall. The entire room fell silent.

"What the hell, Cross?" Decker spluttered, coffee spilling onto his shirt.

"You think I wouldn't find out?" Evelyn's voice was low, sharp as a blade. "You've been selling information to Voss."

Decker's eyes darted around the room. "That's crazy."

Evelyn yanked out her phone, shoving the screen in his face. "Then explain these deposits."

His face went pale.

The room was dead silent now. Harris stepped forward, jaw clenched.

"Cross," he warned.

But Evelyn didn't let go.

"You leaked our moves," she hissed. "Every time we got close, Voss was a step ahead. You're the reason people are dead."

Decker's breathing turned ragged. "I-"

"Save it." Evelyn released him roughly. "You're done."

Harris nodded to two nearby officers. "Cuff him."

Decker didn't resist. He didn't even plead. He just lowered his head, defeated.

But Evelyn didn't feel victory.

This was just a symptom of the disease.

And the disease was still out there.

Evelyn sat at her desk, scanning through every file, every lead. Decker was in lockup, but the damage was already done. The real problem was Voss.

The bastard had power, money, and protection.

He thought he was untouchable.

And maybe, legally, he was.

So she had to find another way.

Her father had followed the same trail thirty years ago. He had been close-so close that he vanished.

She needed to retrace his steps.

She dug through her father's old files, reading every note, every detail. One name stood out.

The Red Hollow Club.

A private, exclusive lounge owned by Voss. Her father had gone there the night before he disappeared.

If she wanted answers, she had to go there too.

Evelyn walked through the heavy doors of the club, immediately hit by the scent of expensive liquor and cigar smoke. The place oozed wealth, every patron dressed like they owned the world.

She moved carefully, scanning faces. She didn't belong here, and they knew it.

A bartender eyed her warily. "You lost?"

"Looking for someone." She slid a photo onto the bar. "This man ever come here?"

The bartender barely glanced at it. "Don't know him."

He was lying.

Evelyn leaned closer. "Try again."

The bartender hesitated, then flicked his gaze toward the VIP section. "If you're smart, you'll walk away."

Evelyn smirked. "I'm not."

She pushed past the velvet rope, ignoring the protests of the bouncers.

Inside, the atmosphere was different. Darker. Colder.

And then she saw him.

Damian Voss. Sitting at a private table, swirling a glass of whiskey.

He looked up, amusement flickering in his eyes. "Detective Cross. You just can't help yourself, can you?"

Evelyn stopped a few feet away. "Where's my father?"

Voss took a sip, unbothered. "Straight to the point. I like that."

She clenched her fists. "I'm not playing games."

"No," he mused. "You're trying to solve a puzzle that was never meant to be solved."

Evelyn stepped closer. "I think you killed him."

Voss chuckled. "You think so many things, Detective."

Her blood boiled. "Tell me what happened to him."

Voss leaned forward, his smile fading. "Why would I do that?"

Evelyn stared at him down, every muscle in her body coiled tight. "Because if you don't, I'll make it my life's mission to destroy you."

Voss studied her, then sighed. "Your father was a good man. But he got too close to something he didn't understand."

A chill ran through her. "And you made sure he disappeared."

Voss smirked again. "I didn't have to. It took care of him."

Evelyn's pulse quickened. "What?"

Voss stood, straightening his jacket. "Goodbye, Detective."

Two security guards stepped forward.

She reached for her gun-

The lights flickered.

A scream echoed from the main club floor.

Evelyn turned sharply.

The bouncers outside the VIP lounge were gone. Blood streaked the walls.

Something moved in the shadows.

A growl. Low. Menacing.

Voss sighed. "And here we are."

Evelyn's heartbeat thundered. "What the hell is that?"

Voss smiled darkly. "You really should've walked away."

Then the lights died completely.

And the screaming began.

Evelyn didn't remember running, but she did.

Gun in hand, she stumbled through the chaos, her breath sharp, her heartbeat wild. She fired into the dark, hearing a snarl, then silence. Then movement.

A blur of something rushed past her, so fast she barely caught its form.

Another scream. A man thrown across the room like a rag doll.

She turned, and there it was.

A creature.

Its glowing amber eyes locked onto hers. Fur bristled over a massive frame, claws gleaming under the dim light. Blood dripped from its fangs.

Then it lunged.

Evelyn raised her arm to shield herself-

Pain exploded through her wrist as claws ripped into her flesh. She fell back, gasping, gripping the wound.

The world blurred. People were still screaming, running, but her focus was on the thing in front of her.

A werewolf.

It wasn't possible. It couldn't be real.

But it was.

She forced herself up, stumbling out of the club, pressing a hand to her bleeding arm.

The streets spun.

She had to get to a hospital.

The nurse stared at Evelyn's wound, her expression unreadable.

"You're lucky," she said. "Most don't make it."

Evelyn swallowed. "You've seen this before?"

The nurse hesitated. "Not officially. But... yes."

Evelyn gripped the edge of the bed. "Werewolves aren't real."

The nurse met her gaze, voice steady.

"They are, Detective. And if you don't start believing that, you're already dead."

Evelyn's breath caught.

Because deep down, she already knew.