The rain hammered against the corrugated iron roof of the abandoned warehouse, a relentless rhythm echoing the frantic beat of Elias Thorne’s heart. The air hung heavy, thick with the cloying sweetness of decay and the metallic tang of blood. He knelt beside the body, a young woman, her face contorted in a silent scream, her eyes wide with a terror that extended far beyond the mundane. Her skin was an unnatural shade of grey, almost translucent, and strange, iridescent markings pulsed faintly beneath the surface. This wasn't a simple murder; this was something far, far worse.