The forest is thick with secrets. Each rustling leaf, every snapping twig sounds like a watcher hidden among the boughs. A chill runs down your spine as you sense that you are not alone. Eyes peer from the darkness, their intent a chilling mystery. Beware the whispers on the wind. Believe no one. Run while you still may. Seeing's Permission

The rain was pouring like tears on the gritty asphalt of Gotham City, each drop a tiny mirror reflecting the neon lights that sliced through the darkness. My trench coat, once a symbol ofsophistication, now felt more like a sodden shroud. Another night, another case, another whisper of truth to chase down in this labyrinth of shadows. I flicked ope