Edward Black unsealed the latest crimson envelope.
Inside, written in deep red ink—like blood—was a simple message:
“Millbank Ruins. Before the midnight bell tolls.”
Harold Gray paled.
“Millbank Ruins… That’s the old prison, isn’t it? It’s been abandoned for years.”
Edward nodded.
“The Black Wing Society always prefers shadows of history. A misty night and a ruined prison—an ideal stage for their games.”
His lips curled slightly.
“But this time, we set the trap.”
The Prison’s Silent Secrets
As midnight neared, the fog thickened.
The towering walls of Millbank Prison loomed in the dim glow of the gas lamps, casting eerie shadows.
“Too quiet,” Harold murmured.
“They excel at hiding in silence,” Edward replied, carefully pushing open the rusted iron doors.
Inside, the corridors echoed with the ghosts of the past—cold, lifeless, yet holding memories of those long imprisoned.
As they ventured deeper, dragged footprints marred the dust-covered floor.
Harold crouched, tracing the marks with his fingers.
“Someone’s been here recently.”
Then—Edward stopped abruptly.
Against the crumbling stone wall, an old clock ticked steadily.
The hands pointed to 11:45 PM.
“‘Before the midnight bell tolls’—we have 15 minutes.”
A faint whisper of footsteps echoed down the corridor.
They followed the sound, moving quickly—
Then, suddenly, the iron gate behind them slammed shut.
“Damn!” Harold cursed, spinning around. The door wouldn’t budge.
In the dark, a voice murmured from nowhere:
“You move as predictably as clockwork. But don’t forget—you are within our hands now.”
Edward’s sharp gaze scanned the surroundings.
Against the cold wall, his fingers brushed across a forgotten blueprint—an old prison map.
“Harold, here. Millbank’s structure is like a maze, but the layout is simple.”
He swiftly folded the paper.
“If we reach the old watchtower, we might find a passage leading to their hideout.”
The Watchtower’s Hidden Message
Reaching the abandoned tower, they found a desk covered in crimson envelopes.
Edward slit one open and immediately froze.
“Next target: The Royal Jewel Vault.”
Harold inhaled sharply.
“So that’s their true aim…”
Before they could react, a shadowed figure lunged from the darkness—blade flashing.
Edward dodged, the knife grazing his coat, as Harold tackled the attacker from behind.
The man smirked despite being caught.
“You’re catching on fast, Detective Black. But this was just another test.”
Edward’s eyes narrowed.
“You planned this distraction to delay us.”
The man let out a low chuckle.
“Every move we make is part of the game.”
Edward’s grip tightened on the letter.
“Then we move fast.”
The Jewel Heist and the Mastermind
Arriving at The Royal Jewel Vault, they found the Black Wing Society’s thieves already in motion.
A silent but deadly standoff began between them and the palace guards.
Edward signaled Harold and the police force, cutting off the escape routes.
One by one, the operatives were captured—except for one man.
Standing atop the vault’s staircase, draped in a black cloak, was the Black Wing Society’s leader—
Sebastian Crowe.
“Edward Black…” Crowe mused, his voice eerily composed.
“We keep meeting like this. But this time, you’ve reached the final act.”
Edward’s expression didn’t waver.
“This ends tonight, Crowe.”
The man smirked.
“Does it? Let me leave you one last letter.”
He tossed a final crimson envelope at Edward’s feet.
As Edward reached for it—
Smoke erupted.
By the time it cleared, Crowe was gone into the fog.
Edward unfolded the letter.
Inside, it read:
“The game never ends. A new night begins soon.”
The Chase Continues
As dawn broke over London, Harold sighed.
“It never ends, does it, sir?”
Edward pocketed the crimson envelope, his expression unreadable.
“No, Harold. This was only the prologue.”
The hunt for the Black Wing Society would continue—
For another night, in another shadow, beneath the ever-present fog of London.
