London?

In a place that's familiar yet strange, a detective hunts a sinister entity in an alternate London.

London?

By

Connor Barrett

Adrian leapt down from the carriage. He tossed the driver a shilling, then sent him on his way, the horse's steps clacking against the cobblestones far into the distance.

It was a cold night, as it alway was, and the moon hung to the east, casting a chilly glow across the street. The gaslamp below which Adrian leant provided a much warmer light, but light was all it offered.

A single Policeman stood guard, and nodded subtly as Adrian approached the intimidating oak door. He grabbed ahold of the brass knocker, which depicted a lion biting a metallic loop of rope and prepared himself. The seconds dragged, hesitation was always one of his strongest attributes. His shivers could not overcome the feeling of trepidation, and had he a choice, he’d have stood there till he froze to death.

Just do it!!!

He banged three times, and awaited the appearance of the person he wanted to see least in the entire world. He’d broken a promise...One he’d fully intended to keep.

Now, a life was lost, and he was to blame…

That’s not true.

He’d tried to convince himself during his journey, but it was no use. It was his fault. He hadn’t struck the killing blow, but he’d meant to prevent it, and had failed.

When the door finally opened, Adrian was greeted by a woman in a flowing white gown. Long blonde hair rappelled, shrouding her face in golden curtains. Her youth was scarred by sadness within and the losses she’d suffered dimmed the glimmer of her green eyes. Those eyes that had been drained of tears, too numb to cry any longer.

“Miss Gillespie,” Adrian bowed his head in shame. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

She stood silent for a few moments. Moments that stretched into hours.

“There’s nothing you could have done,” she reached and placed a hand to his cheek, lifting his eyes to meet hers. “Come in out of the cold.”

Soon, Adrian was settled in the lounge of the Gillespie house, fire roaring, the armchair in which he sat inviting him to doze off into blissful slumber. But there was too much chaos in his mind.

Glancing around, his eyes passed bookshelves, ornaments, and portraits, distinguished gentlemen and sophisticated ladies hung from the walls. Of all the clients he'd had over the years, the Gillespie family must have been the highest profile. But. Usually, it was the poorest who suffered most, that Adrian sought to protect, but his latest case was also the most troubling. He hadn't take it for the money, but for horror which it inspired it had inspired in him.

The victims thus far had all been of noble blood, and it was no different with the latest. All women. All siblings. Three sisters each month, for twelve months.

Adrian had every detail of the murders memorized. The oldest sister first, then the middle, then the youngest. A stab wound to the heart, and seemingly aged beyond their years, grey skin and white hair.

Why? What’s he doing?

Primrose Gillespie returned with a tray, a pot of tea freshly brewed.

“You didn’t need to…”

“I wanted to,” she placed the tray on the table and sat across from him.

He nodded in acknowledgment, then reached to pour himself a cup. Of course, he’d have gone for something stronger, but in truth, he deserved none of the woman’s hospitality.

“Where is everyone else?”

“Mother is asleep...exhausted.”

“Your Father?”

“At the station.”

Adrian closed his eyes, “You say there was nothing I could have done. But, that’s not true…”

“It is…” she began.

“No, it isn’t. I promised you and your sister I’d not let such a thing happen. That I’d protect you both.”

Primrose reached for her own cup, gently trembling, “I don’t blame you...What could you have done?”

“I could have caught him…”

Adrian placed the cup down. Everything tasted bitter to him, tinged by the feeling that now wrapped itself around his entire consciousness. His eyes stayed fixed upon the liquid, swirling about the china vessel.

“You’re one man. The police have been seeking him for over a year, and no-one knows what he looks like.”

“I was there…” he looked up from the cup.

A look of bewilderment shot across Primrose’s face.

“I watched as he took the knife and…” he gulped, the muscles of his throat tightening so that no words could escape, “...I begged him not to, but it was too late. She...April...I held her as she died”

Miss Gillespie replaced the cup to its saucer, “Did...Did she suffer?”

“No,” He lied.

Adrian stood and paced over to the fireplace, “I’ll never forget his eyes, looking back from beneath his hood…”

Taunting...

Those blue spheres had haunted Adrian for hours, dominating every thought. The killer had stood there at the window and watched, daring Adrian to follow.

Primrose placed her cup down, confusedly searching the room for some kind of meaning.

“The police, didn’t say anything...”

“I didn’t tell them,” he glimpsed his own gaunt face in the mirror, then turned back to her. “Of they found him, they would arrest him.”

“...What are you saying…?”

“I mean to find him, and end this...No more suffering.”

Primrose stood in silence and stepped towards him. Lifting his face with both her hands, she peered deep into his eyes.

“I confess, I’ve never taken a life,” he took hold of her wrists and gently pushed her away, “and I vowed I never would. But this monster needs to die.”

“I would try to dissuade you...but had my sisters not been his quarry…”

“He won't hurt any others. I will do this, I promised you.”

She turned from him, bowing her head, “Not for me...please, don’t become the very thing you hunt.”

Adrian took hold of her arm and gently twisted her to face him, “This is what needs to be done.”

He swept past her and headed for the door.

“Mr Miles. Please, don’t let him corrupt you.”

Too Late.

He opened the door, and stepped out into the eternal night. He was greeted by a scrawny looking man, who wore a cap and a dull brown jacket.

“Detective Mallory,” Adrian reached out to shake his hand, though he did not return the gesture.

The man’s greying hair matched his eyes, that expressed the same piercing glance of absolute knowledge every time they met.

“I was just looking for you,” he replied, “Walk with me.”

*

People went about their business all around, the market bustling with voices as shoppers searched for bargains. All of them oblivious to the true nature of the world, a world Adrian knew all too well.

“It was different this time,” Mallory explained, as they passed by, “There was no advanced aging.”

Adrian nodded, “Right.”

“Why do you think that is eh?”

“I don’t know.”

They crossed the street, out of the crowd and strolled down to the river’s edge.

“Well, I have a theory,” the detective tugged gently at his greying beard, as if to emphasize his forthcoming wisdom.

“do you? What’s that?” Adrian came to a halt and turned to gaze out across the still water.

“Well, I think someone interrupted him...and whatever he’s doing to the girls, he couldn’t finish.”

“Could be I suppose.”

Mallory grabbed Adrian by the shoulder and forced him to turn.

“Come on,” he shook his head, disappointed, “Drop the act.”

“Act?”

“I know it was you. You’ve changed your coat...but you missed a spot of blood on your collar.”

Adrian inspected his shirt, and saw that the detective spoke true.

“What’re you gonna do kid?”

“You’re not taking me in?”

Mallory smirked, “What good would that do? I know you wouldn’t share a word of what you saw with my colleagues back at the station. You’ve always worked better as a lone wolf. Just like your old man.”

Adrian shook his head, casting a glance to the sky above, “He wouldn’t approve, of what I’m going to do.”

“Maybe not,” Mallory tugged at Adrian’s sleeve, urging him to walk, “But he’s not around anymore...he would be proud of you takin’ up his cause though.”

“Well, someone had to.”

Mallory nodded, “We saw a lot of strange things together...things that shouldn’t have been possible...but this is the strangest of all.”

“I don't know. That’s why I’m gonna put an end to it.”

“I won’t try and talk you round...never worked with him either.”

Mallory straightened each side of his mustache in turn, nervous Adrian guessed.

“Just whatever you do, don’t let your cousin come along. She’s not cut out for this.”

“I doubt she’ll take no for an answer.”

Mallory chuckled, “That runs in the family...Let her down easy.”

“I will. Thank you uncle.”

Mallory nodded, “Just, look after yourself. I’d best be getting back, there’s a killer on the loose. Not that you’d know anything about that.”

“Thanks for keeping them off my tail.”

“Not a problem dear boy.”

Once Mallory had departed, Adrian followed the river’s bank along, the water calm and undisturbed, moonlight beaming from the surface. What he’d have given to quiet his thoughts so, to be as still as the water. He walked and walked, time flowing past unobstructed, an inexorable march towards the inevitable.

He was almost out of pavement and ahead he spotted the drop off. As he neared the edge, he glanced out into that dark place. The jagged stone of the earth gave way to blackness, gazing down, nothing but stars remained for as far as could be seen. The river’s water fell from the world and became a fine mist that drifted out into space, the hands of gravity losing its hold upon the droplets.

Adrian recalled the tales people told their young, of how the world had once been complete and whole. But a great cataclysm had occurred, destroying whatever had once laid beyond the edge of the city. The details of the stories were always in flux. Sometimes it was the result a war between the Gods. A punishment for mankind. A random cosmic event.

Whatever the cause or whoever the culprit in the stories, the result was always the same: The world was shattered into pieces and scattered to the void. Now, Londinion was all that remained, a lonely city drifting through the cold expanses of space.

Adrian glanced to the moon above, a silver orb that graced the sky eternally, the only light that cut through the blackness. His glare fixed on the blank canvas ahead, he saw the eyes once more, the chilling stare of a monster. Inhuman Adrian knew, impossible to explain how, but he knew.

“When the bell tolls twelve, you’ll find me,” he’d said, waiting in the doorway as Adrian cradled April while her life ebbed away. “Come to me, and you’ll learn what lies beyond this world.”

Was there truly more?

He did ponder sometimes, the deeper questions of life. Staring to the star matted curtain before him, Adrian contemplated jumping from the edge. He saw that face again, the cold eyes cut into his will. He’d already failed, perhaps the world could do without him?

Adrian had felt that way before...many times, before he had found his purpose, the years of waiting to live...but now he wasn’t so sure. The broken promise gnawed at his innards, tearing chunks of sanity away. The void within himself calling:

“Do it! Do it! Jump!”

Stop it! You have work to do.

It was true. He tore his gaze from the pinpoints of light and turned back towards the city. When it was over, and he’d made things right, then he could go.

*

It was approaching midnight when Adrian came to rest outside the tavern. Within, he heard the revelry and laughter of oblivious minds. How could they all go on like that, when there was such misery to be beheld, and terror to be felt?

Lies.

He’d always told himself that everything would be fine, and knew it was the same for all. Everyone lied to themselves, just get through their lives...Their lonely pointless lives. To Adrian, lies weren’t enough anymore.

He pushed open the door and stepped into the sea of naivety, the scent of booze and piss and s**t washing towards him. All about sat drunkards and w****s, shuting, laughing, inane mutterings and rambling conversation swarming the air all around.

“Adrian!” called a woman’s voice.

He turned to meet Sally’s glance, her golden eyes burning into his, dark locks flowing all about.

“Evening,” he greeted his little cousin.

“Where’ve you been?” she grabbed him and guided him to a table in the corner.

“The Gillespie’s house.”

She took a seat and urged him to do the same, “I heard what happened, I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

“You alright there partner?” she lowered her head to see his eyes.

Empty Eyes.

“I know where he is…or, I will know soon.”

“What are you talking about?” Sally rose, “Let me get you a drink.”

“No, I don’t want anything.”

She slowly lowered herself back to the stool, “That’s a first.”

“I saw him...He wants me to find him,” Adrian rested his arms on the beer soaked table, his leather jacket sticking to the tacky surface.

“What are you going to do?”

“Finish him.”

Sally began to shake her head, “You can’t...You…”

Adrian reached out and took hold of her hand, “I have to. He’s too dangerous.”

Inhuman.

“Tell the police...They’ll stop him.”

“They won’t be able to. I can’t explain it, but I know that no one else can end this.”

Sally clenched his hand with both of hers, “If you speak truly...Let me help you.”

“No!” Adrian pulled his hand away.

“Adrian. I always looked up to you, that’s why I wanted to do….This.”

“I know, but I can’t lose you. We’ve already lost to much, you and I.”

She stood, “I know that. That’s why we need to stick together...Let me grab my things.”

Adrian hesitated, then nodded reluctantly.

“Don’t leave without me,” Sally sauntered off towards the staircase and ascended to her room.

As he sat waiting amid the rabble, Adrian’s thoughts turned again and again to the killer.

“What does he want?” he muttered to himself quietly.

Not quietly enough though.

“Talking to yourself Miles?”

Adrian raised his eyes to greet the balding man. He wore a long coat and a waistcoat beneath, though he was no gentleman. His twisted smirk angered Adrian, who greeted the man’s glassy eyes with something only just short of hatred.

“Losing your touch are we boy? Heard you let him get away.”

Adrian broke his eyes away, and lowered his head, trying his best to contain the rage.

“I didn’t let him get away Cooper.”

“Doesn’t matter, I’d say he’s doin’ us all a favour though: Gillispie’s have been living off our hard work for years, and what do we get in return. I lost everything when their old man let me go,” he gazed over to the other lowlife’s in the corner who nodded in agreement, “Nice to see all the “Noble” c***s get what’s comin’ to ‘em.”

Adrian shot upright, grabbing him by the collar, “People are dying Cooper, good people!”

The whole tavern fell silent as all eyes closed in the two of them. Cooper tried to escape Adrian’s grasp, to no avail. His pack of drunken lackeys rose to intervene, but he reached out a hand, urging them to back down.

“S’alright boy’s, he wouldn’t do anything drastic.”

Adrian pulled him closer, “You think they deserve to die, because they have more money than you. Or because they recognised you for the liar and the thief you are?”

Cooper’s momentary shock subsided, and a slight grin stretched across his lips.

“Always thought there was more to you. So reserved, polite.”

Adrian released his grip and pushed Cooper away, who turned to greet the people looking on in awe.

“Always the quiet ones you gotta watch out for.”

He returned to his table, downed the remains of his pint, then waddled to the bar to buy another.

Adrian took one last look around at the drunks, and headed for the door.

“Nothing to see here!” he told the rest who continued to eye him in caution.

He glanced back to the stairs for a moment, “I’m sorry girl.”

I have to do this alone.

Out in the cold, a gentle dusting of white powder had covered the streets, and Adrian's bootsteps crunched with every pace he took. As the hands of the clock tower ahead both inched toward twelve, the bells began to chime.

“When the bell tolls twelve…” found you.

*

Getting in was easy, no lock could keep Adrian Miles from his quarry. The tumblers instantly submitted to the pick and the door clicked open.

Inside, the stone walls were damp, and the air hung close with a scent of rot. The wooden beams that supported ancient blocks were crumbling and distorted.

All about echoed drops of water, breaking through the silence at mechanically precise intervals.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

“Are you here?” he called, approaching the first flight of stairs that coiled around the inside of the tower. As Adrian ascended, the shivers of anticipation and dread began to ripple up and down his spine. He wanted to end this, but he could not deny that fear pierced his heart in that moment.

“I’m glad you came,” a voice issued from the shadows above.

As Adrian emerged on the second floor, he spied the man he’d come for. Faint moon beams illuminated little, the killer’s eyes were all that could be seen, shining in the darkness ahead.

Those Eyes...Are not real.

“What do you want from me?” Adrian asked.

“There is no want...Only need.”

Adrian pulled the knife from his belt and rushed towards the monster. As the face retreated, Adrian stepped into the shadows, striking out. Yet there was nothing to strike.

“Not yet,” called the voice again, from behind.

How?

Turning, Adrian glimpsed him again, fully this time. His dark coat revealing little about his build, only the gaunt face visible beneath the hood. He made his way up the stairs, urging his pursuer to follow…

...and so he did…

Each flight of stairs brought him closer and closer to the end. The knife shuddered in Adrian trembling hand, a rush of adrenaline unsteadying his entire body.

“Face me!” He cried upon reaching the final staircase.

There was no reply, and so he climbed the last few steps. On the highest floor, a cylinder of dusty light shone down upon his target. The killer stood motionless, seemingly waiting for the end.

Adrian edged towards him, the man’s eyes fixed upon his position. He raised his arms, as if welcoming the blade. And yet, Adrian could do nothing.

“Is there a problem?” The killer asked, “Did you expect a fight?”

Adrian started him dead in the eyes…

...The Dead Eyes…

...and glimpsed Sorrow. Anger. Exhaustion.

“Do It,” he urged.

Adrian stepped back, lowering the knife.

“DO IT!!!” The man’s face contorted as if in agony, “You want this, do you not?”

“I can’t...I…”

“...You made a vow.”

Adrian dropped the knife and retreated even further, “What?”

“To your father...As he lay dying.”

The image floated to the forefront of Adrian’s mind, the man who’d raised him breathing his last.

“How would you know that?”

Then another image was pulled from the deck of Adrian’s thoughts: Sally.

“You’d dissapoint her so…”

In that instant, he realized, the killer was in his head, viewing his thoughts. He fell to his knees as he tried to resist the invader. But it was no use, endless flashes of the past race past before his eyes.

“Get out!”

The killer shook his head, “Make me.”

No, this is impossible!

“What are you!” He cried, raising his eyes to the killer.

Adrian gripped the handle of the knife once more. Summoning all his might, he rose, plunging the dagger into the monster’s chest. The impact let out a wave of anger and torment, both of them embracing the release.

The killer reached out, hands enclosing Adrian’s head. Instantly, his his mind was flooded with phantom visions. He saw people going about their lives in a strange land. He hovered above the street, watching as the crowds passed below. They rode in strange mechanical carriages, and spoke into metallic boxes held to their ears. Above, glowing windows depicted images that moved of their own accord.

How? Where am I?

He fell then, into darkness, until he felt the ground beneath his feet and light pierced the black curtain from above. He stood in a great hall, while all around him danced figures as pale as the cold moon. There was no music, and yet they moved to some unheard rhythm.

Light poured in through the windows, a golden light unlike any he’d ever seen. A warm breeze swept the curtains that swayed gently, beyond which a green field was illuminated.

Adrian reached for one of the women, a girl in a swirling blue dress, yet there was nothing to touch. The lifeless spectres whirled on as though he were never there.

“You weren't there,” he felt the killer's hand upon his shoulder.

Turning, Adrian greeted those frosty blue eyes not with fear, but curiosity.

“What is this?”

The killer lead him to the window, through the crowd of ghosts. Across the plain lie a city, a shimmering fortress, hundreds of glass towers of impossible construction. The tips of those buildings scratched the very sky above...a blue sky in which hung a glowing orb.

“Yours was not the only world destroyed by the cataclysm.”

Outside, the dazzling ball of light began to edge towards the horizon. The sky dimmed to the black that Adrian knew, the only sky he’d ever seen. The moon rose high above, then vanished from sight once more, the sky lightening again. And so on, faster and faster, the moon and it’s counterpart racing across the expanse to pursue one another.

“But it was not to last.”

Turning back towards the killer, the hall was empty now. As he glanced, Adrian spotted him to the far end, waiting in the doorway. He rushed towards the man, and followed him into the darkness beyond.

They emerged together atop a great tower, overlooking the city of glass below.

“This was my home.”

“What happened?” Asked Adrian.

“The same thing that happened to your world.”

The killer looked to the sky above as the great orb began to dim and everything went dark. With its last flicker, the sun let out a burst of light, and the sky shattered. Cracks tore across the dome of the heavens, and blinding white poured in.

With a tearing sound, the city below began to crumble. Towers toppled atop the crowds, the streets full of screams. Far into the distance, the very surface of the earth split and broke apart creating islands that drifted away, before disintegrating into dust.

As the tiles beneath Adrian’s boots began to shake themselves apart, he fell into darkness. The silence enclosed him from all sides, unbearable. With each second that passed, he struggled for breath.

“This was our fate,” the killer’s voice spoke within Adrian’s mind, “To drift forever, without form. Soul torn from body.”

Adrian held onto what little air remained, his eyes welling with tears as he struggled to stay conscious.

“Those of us who “survived”, Became something other than human. I almost didn’t make it,” the killer grabbed ahold of his wrist and they drifted together, towards a tiny point of light below.

As the island approached, adrift on a sea of darkness, Adrian recognized the city. Though he’d never seen it from above before:

Londinion!

Down they went. Into the dark streets the killer lead him. Twisting around the maze of buildings, until they came to a snowy alleyway. Half buried in the powder was a man. Homeless he seemed, and near death.

“I took refuge,” the killer approached, and turned the man. He had the same Gaunt face and glassy eyes.

“You took his body?” Adrian grappled with the realization.

The killer nodded.

“Why kill the girls?” Adrian demanded, grabbing him by the coat and forcing him against the wall.

“To survive,” he answered and urged Adrian to turn.

Before him stood the homeless, though older and gaunter than ever. Visions flashed before his eyes once more. Visions, or, memories. Each murder played out in turn, and the killer regained his youth. Trading life for death. But each time, the rejuvenation was briefer and briefer.

“Death releases life, my friend. But their souls can sustain me no longer.”

In the darkness they stood again, face to face as the killer withered away. His eyes grew glassy and his skin grey, wrinkles being etched into the flesh, disolving into dust.

“Thank you.”

“For what?” Adrian asked.

“For ending it.”

Adrian awoke with a gasp. Sitting up, he glanced about the clock tower, seeking his bearings. Beside him lay the killer, the knife protruding from his chest, but only bones remained.

As Adrian pushed himself up, he looked upon the skeleton with a mix of relief and pity. But it was over, and the entity that had come from another shattered world, was gone.

The revelations he’d seen swirled about Adrian’s mind as he descended the tower. Each step brought him closer to a world that would never be the same. Stepping out into the cold, he glanced to the moon once more. The moon that never moved.

Taking a seat at a nearby bench, he gazed out to the horizon, over the river, and prepared to wait for the dawn.

A dawn, that would never come.

Author's Note

This is a work in progress in need of editing, but any suggestions for improvement are welcome :)

Reviews

[Shannon]

I really enjoyed this story. Enough told to connect us to the story, I understand, but not so much that we get bogged down.

Early in the story, I felt as though you might be telling us too much of what he's feeling. The intimidating door, for example. I also think making the killer be from another part of the earth (or making that clearer, if that was the intent) and glimpses of how he became largely immortal might add something to the end.

And yes, proof read!

I enjoyed this snippet of a world you created.

[Ash1331]

I envy your gift of description. Usually when I'm writing, I'm so rushed to get back to dialogue I butcher trying to convey the surrounding. Not you, you can paint pictures with words very easily.
You have a grammatical error about five paragraphs down, the paragraph starts with "Glances around", and toward the end of the paragraph you have "But. Ususally," a period snuck in
I'd be happy to give it a general edit through if you'd like, it's just hard to do in comments. Feel free to message me if you're interested in that.
Keep writing :)