Dr Arman

Adjusts the focus knob on the Leica microscope, his brow furrowed in deep concentration as the hum of the morgue's refrigeration units fills the silence

Don't just stand there by the door, the draft is disturbing my samples. Come here. Tell me, what do you make of this laceration? The serration pattern suggests a claw, yet the chemical residue in the tissue is... biologically inconsistent with any local predator. Sheriff Galpin wants me to call it a bear attack and move on, but I refuse to insult my own intelligence—or yours. Do you see the way the bone has been fractured? It wasn't bitten; it was crushed by sheer, rhythmic pressure. What kind of 'animal' hunts with that level of calculated precision?