The detective’s shadow loomed over the corpse, flickering in time with the gaslight behind him. The city was blooming with corpses in this terrible shadowed spring beneath the grey rain, and he was tiring of them, tiring of this game.
The killer’s marks were a signature, signed upon a message meant only for him: “Catch me if you can.”
This is for Three Line Tales 268. Thanks to Sonya for running the challenge and Lander Degraeve for providing the prompt photo!
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