As Iris approached to the scene

  The body lay beneath the bridge like a work of morbid artistry. Male, mid-forties, positioned with careful precision. Arms slightly spread, palms down, legs straight. Clothing smooth, folds perfect. Rainwater traced faint rivulets across pale skin, highlighting the hollowness of his cheeks, the subtle contours of muscles drained of blood.

  Iris stepped closer

  Even before the forensic lights illuminated the details, she could see it. A single incision ran along the carotid artery. Blood had been drained in a controlled, almost surgical way. The placement of the body, the remaining streaks of dark red, the carved symbol in the damp concrete beside him everything was deliberate, calculated.This hadn't been done in panic.

  This had been done by patience .

  Cho exhaled slowly beside her. "Well... that's not something we see every night."

  Iris didn't answer.

  She crouched beside the body, eyes moving slowly over every detail. The hands. The clothing. The angle of the shoulders. Her gaze settled on the concrete beside the corpse.

  A symbol had been carved into the damp surface.

  Three intersecting lines. Angular. Deep enough to resist the rain.

  Cho crouched beside her, umbrella dripping. "Bell... this is something else ."

  "I know"she said, voice low, controlled. Farid Malik leaned closer to the victim's face, adjusting his glasses as droplets slid from the bridge above.

  "Eyes are open," he murmured. "But there's no sign of struggle. No bruising on the jaw or cheekbones. Whoever did this had control from the start."

  "Drugged?" Cho asked.

  "Possibly. I'll confirm after examination."

  Iris studied the symbol again.

  Rainwater gathered in the carved lines, turning them into dark channels against the concrete.

  "Not random," she said quietly.

  Cho glanced toward her. "Ritual?"

  "Maybe." Iris shook her head slightly. "Or communication."

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Lina looked between them. "Communication with who?"

  Iris stood slowly, scanning the shadows beneath the bridge.

  "With us..........."

  For a moment, the rain was the only sound. Heavy drops striking concrete, echoing through the archways.

  Farid gestured toward the victim's chest. "There's more."

  Iris stepped closer again.

  A faint incision spiraled across the man's chest. Not deep enough to kill, but deliberate ,precise , almost decorative.

  Like the stroke of a careful hand.

  Cho shook his head slowly. "I've worked homicide twenty years... and I've never seen someone arrange a body like this or a body arted like this."

  "Because it's staged," Iris said.

  She crouched again, studying the thin trails where diluted blood had been guided across the skin.

  "Minimal mess. Controlled bleeding. Positioning adjusted after death." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "This killer knew exactly what they were doing."

  Farid nodded thoughtfully. "Medical training, maybe."

  "Or surgical familiarity," Lina added.

  Cho sighed. "Fantastic. A surgeon with a murder hobby."

  Iris' gaze returned to the victim. Blood had been methodically removed from key areas, leaving thin, almost decorative streaks tracing the body. One shoulder bore faint impressions as if someone had pressed a gloved hand there during the act. The tongue incision was clean, no ragged edges. The chest spiral looked intentional, almost symbolic as a painter's stroke executed on living canvas.

  She crouched lower, letting her nose catch the metallic scent in the air. Iron. Rainwater. And something she couldn't name ; a faint chemical tang that made her stomach tighten.

  "This is the first time I've seen anything this controlled," she muttered. "The killer isn't sloppy. Not a rush job. Calculated. Precise. Planning. They wanted someone to find this, to see it, to feel the effect."

  Cho nodded, whispering almost reverently. "It's... art."

  Iris' eyes scanned her team. Daniel Cho, skeptical and meticulous; Lina Tan, quiet, precise, always careful; Farid Malik, analytical, observant. Each of them understood without saying it: This case would test their skills in ways nothing else had.

  "Let's not call it art yet," Iris said. "It's a message. The killer wants control. Every line, every cut, every drop is deliberate. Remember that."

  "Document everything," she said firmly.

  "Already started " Cho replied, flipping a page in his notebook.

  "Farid, I want swabs from the incision and surrounding skin. Lina, expand the perimeter search and check drainage edges, debris, anything that might have caught fibers."

  "On it."

  Iris stepped back, observing the scene from some distance.

  From this angle the victim looked less like a man... and more like a sculpture left in the rain.

  Blood as paint!

  Cuts as lines!

  Symbol as signature!

  Somewhere in London, the person responsible had taken their time creating this.

  Not rushing!

  Not hiding!

  Waiting for someone to see it!!

  Waiting for someone to understand!!

  The Thames flowed beneath the bridge, dark and indifferent.

  Iris felt the strange sensation again, that quiet whisper at the edge of her thoughts.

  Recognition.

  She couldn't explain it?!

  But something about this scene felt familiar.

  Too familiar!!!!!

  Cho approached her holding his little notebook "Do you think we're looking at a pattern already?"

  Iris shook her head slowly. "Not yet. But I will know when I see it. Patterns have signatures. Every artist leaves one."

  Farid crouched again, inspecting the spiral incision on the chest. "I can swear I've seen this before..." he muttered.

  Iris didn't answer. She didn't need to. The rain, the blood, the symbol—they all whispered the same thing.

  This was just the beginning!!!!!!!