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Once we were outside of Iscariot's building, I noticed that we were in the same place I had passed through on my way to the Church. Although it was now midday, the streets had a similar air to them as before. There were a lot more people going around town than yesterday. Four and five-story buildings stood towering on either side of the brick road. Various shops that you would rarely see in the modern day were quite busy, while others sat vacantly. People of all ages, were distributed along the streets with carts to sell homemade goods. It was much nicer than Whitechapel.
“Where are we?” I asked, as I had yet to learn the full geography of London.
“Farringdon, just outside of Whitechapel, my flat is only a short walk from here,” he said turning east, I think; I’m bad with cardinal directions, especially since now I had a very vague sense of where we were. Nonetheless, I followed him.
The building he led me to, a two-story brick building that looked like a crack den, seemed as if it were about to fall apart from the deteriorating brick walls to the cracked windows. Not to mention the horrible design choice of having a partial balcony on the second floor. The front door of the building was of an old and decrepit wood that creaked and moaned every time the wind would ever pick up. With every new surface that got into view, I was finding something about this place that I was fearful of. How was this up to code in any way? It could have just been some simple weather damage that hadn’t been taken care of, so I didn’t complain. He was letting me stay here, so I think I’ll be fine.
Following Scott the rest of the way in, he led me up the creaky and partially broken stairway to a door that he unlocked to reveal his apartment. It was small, with two rooms and a living area that was also the kitchen. Each room held a bed with no sheets, only blankets, and a single pillow. The walls were grey and barren. On top of that, the wallpaper was peeling badly in some places. In the living area was a couch, a wood stove, and a table. The wood stove, which also acted like an oven as far as I could tell, had but seen little use. In the center of the room, the couch sat with several holes in it, and oh my God there is a dead rat being eaten by a living rat underneath it. To add to the mess, the room was littered with rum bottles, empty and full. Scott lived here and didn’t even seem to care, he just strolled into the room on the far left of the apartment and shut the door.
“This place is a mess,” I yelled toward his room.
“Then clean it up,” I heard him say back, albeit muffled, through the door.
Grabbing the only broom I could see, which was covered in dust, I began sweeping out of spite, starting with the rats. I swatted the live one away and swept up the dead one. Damn, there was a lot of dust in here! Because of the dust I was kicking up with the broom, I decided to open the windows and allow myself some breathing room before continuing to sweep. After a good hour of cleaning, I decided to lie on the couch and mess with my new knife. The knife itself didn’t seem very special, although it wouldn’t be legal in London during the time period that I was there.
Due to the magic formula, I could make the knife fly anywhere I wanted with my mind. Kind of like another appendage that was attached to my body with a magic string. I could make it spin like a saw blade just as I made the chess piece do, and even make it fly around the room at high speeds as if I was a planet with a knife-shaped satellite. Eventually, I stopped because I accidentally launched it into the wall a few too many times. Getting bored of knife practice, I decided to take a nap on the couch. A few hours later though, I was awoken by the sound of Scott telling me to get up.
“No, fuck you, let me sleep,” I replied groggily.
“What was that? I said get up!” he yelled as he kicked the couch from behind, making me fall on the floor with the couch laying on top of me. Damn, this couch is heavy… How in the hell did he even kick it over?
“It’s time for your training,” he said, as I slowly climbed out from under the couch. He then meandered out the door of the apartment without me, only to open it after a few seconds just to tell me to get my ass moving. I complied with a tired roll of my eyes and followed after him.
“So, where are we going, and what kind of training are we doing?” I asked as I rubbed the crust which had formed in the corner of my eye.
“You ask too many questions. We have to keep a lookout for the changeling that attacked you. We also need to check out a rumor that a succubus has been killing people who have refused to help her with their work,” Scott explained as if I should have already known this.
“Succubus, as in a demon prostitute? One is attacking people who won’t sleep with them?” I said with an unconvinced tone as I followed along.
“They aren’t demons, they are a subclass of the Amazons. Immortal creatures, so long as they feed off of the life force of humans. Usually, they are peaceful, but when they are desperate, they will likely attack people,” Scott corrected.
“And if we find this Succubus, do we have to kill it?” I wondered out loud.
“Not really. Although succubi will attack humans when desperate, they will not kill them. Thus, we don’t need to kill it, just detain it and hand it over to Mama Louise,” Scott said with an almost reluctant expression.
“Who is Mama Louise? Another member of the Table?” I asked curiously. It kind of sounded like the name of a mafia head.
“No. She runs all of the Succubus brothels in Whitechapel, and several all over London. She can get the Succubus stabilized or kill it, it’s up to her,” Scott explained. So she was kind of like a mafia head.
“Umm, okay then. Now, you said before that you watch over all of London. If you're going to be strictly in Whitechapel for a while, then who is watching the rest of London?” I asked with a worried expression.
“Good question. I asked the Head Consul of the Table if they could send someone to watch over it for me. Whether they did or not, I have no idea,” Scott said. I was starting to think that this Table was very poorly managed.
“You're really just going to leave it at that?” I asked due to the shock of learning that anything could happen in the rest of London and we would be none the wiser.
“There’s not really much else I can do. Although the Table is spread all over the world, that doesn’t mean that we have infinite resources and people. We are spread thin as it is, and we are trained with that in mind. So we make allies with the supernatural any chance we can get. That way, they can deal with a lot of their problems without us, but when something goes rogue, or when there’s a conflict that needs a third party, we are always called upon,” Scott explained.
“Okay, then. if that’s how it is...” I said. We continued on silently the rest of the way.65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaiFDDXiLJq
***65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3WgTAI6U3e
We were currently at Mama Louise’s, a high-end brothel at the edge of Whitechapel. Lining its walls were regal lamps and fine purple and red colours. Each room that we passed by on our way in was fitted with a hot bath, bed, and various amenities. Though, where we stopped was the private lounge in the back. It featured a fully stocked bar, several couches, and a sinister but noble villain aesthetic. Mama Louise, the owner, was an older-looking woman whose body was quite robust. She wore a purple gown, and was smoking a long thin pipe as we sat across from her on one of the red couches. The smoke from her pipe matched the colour of her long white hair that was poorly put up. Even if I was into older women, she wouldn’t have really appealed to me. I had thought that Succubi could seduce anyone… Guess not.
“State your business, Scott. You and I both know you don’t have all day,” Mama Louise finally said to break the silence, letting out a dramatically long fume of smoke from her mouth upon finishing.
“Mama Louise, we would like to ask you about the rumors of a Succubi that has been attacking people lately. Are they true, and if so, where can we find this Succubus?” Scott asked with more respect than I had ever seen him show anyone up till now. It almost seemed like he was afraid.
“Is that what I was woken up for? The Table is becoming rather rude; and yes, I know who you are referring to,” Mama Louise asked back and responded, obviously annoyed.
“That is great. Then, if we could know who it is and where to possibly find her, we could detain and return her—” Scott said before Mama Louise raised her hand as if to tell him to shut his mouth.
“I want you to kill her,” Mama Louise stated without a hint of mercy on her tongue.
“May I ask why? I thought the Succubi protect their own?” Scott asked with a confused look.
“We do protect our own, but she is a traitor. She has killed one of my clients and that is considered punishable by death among us Succubi. It has worked out perfectly that you would arrive before I could kill her myself,” Mama Louise replied with a partially threatening gleam in her eyes.
“Mama Louise, we are here to stop her from attacking humans but we cannot allow ourselves to be caught up in the affairs of the Succubi. She will be captured and brought to you so that you may deal with her. Only if she attacks us will we kill her,” Scott stated slowly, as he seemed to be trying to not say anything incorrectly or that could be taken in the wrong light.
“That is understandable, considering the pact we Succubi made with the Table... So be it. She was last seen hiding within the Chapel here in Whitechapel. I will await your return with her, dead or alive,” she said, waving us off with faint annoyance. I could only watch. I knew nothing of what was going on. That woman knew this, and acted like she didn’t even notice me. To match, Scott also ignored me and spoke to her like he was at a peace meeting that could go sour at any moment. From the way she acted, it felt like I was definitely sitting in front of a mafia boss who wasn’t pleased with our visit. I was right to assume. Once we were outside Mama Louise’s, Scott released a heavy sigh before reaching into his coat pocket, grabbing his flask, and chugging half of the contents.
“Ugh, I was too sober for that. I swear she was staring daggers into me the whole time. Glad I talked to her when she was in relatively good spirits,” he said with a deep gasp after taking that all in.
“Is she that scary? She just seemed annoyed that we were bothering her...” I asked as she just seemed to be playing with him.
“Kid, if you ever get on that woman’s nerves, there is no place on earth that she couldn’t find you; and once she finds you, you will be tortured and killed,” he said with the straightest of faces. I was now terrified, and could see why he acted the way he did in there.
We strode through the streets of Whitechapel with an aura that seemed to attract a lot of attention from my point of view. Scott, on the other hand, didn’t seem to care. It was as if there was nothing that could bother him. At least, I would think that if he hadn’t shown that he was terrified of Mama Louise. The people around us would stare as if we were circus performers that had gone out for a drink while still in costume.
“Why are they staring at us?” I asked Scott.
“Well Lou, I am wearing much nicer clothes than they are, and reek of alcohol, so many of them assume that I would be perfect to rob. They don’t care much about you. They probably think I paid you chump change to be my bodyguard or you’re a beggar, hoping that I will give you something,” Scott explained as if he was looking down on them. However, that was not his intention by any means. He just naturally seemed like a dick, from what I could tell. Though I was aghast... Did people really think I was dressed like a beggar? I thought it looked cool, although many people in the 20th century would call me an edgelord.
“Do you really think I dress like a beggar?” I asked with a tone of uncertainty.
“You do. And you have no money anyway, so you would be a beggar had I not taken you in,” Scott stated honestly whilst eyeing the headlines of today's newspaper being handed out by a young boy on the street corner.
“You have me there,” I reluctantly replied.
“Anyways, we’re here,” he said as we arrived at the chapel. It wasn’t that far from Mama Louise’s at all. Scott hopped up the stone steps and began knocking on the door. It echoed a bit inside, before we heard footsteps moving quickly from behind the door. A moment later, the door opened just enough for the Priest to peek his head out. It was the same old man who had refused to house me. He looked at Scott and I swear I heard him say “oh shit” before pulling his head back in and attempting to shut the door. Scott reached in before he could, and opened up the door completely.
“M—Mr. Langston! You surprised me. What brings you to Whitechapel?” The Priest asked, but as he spoke, he seemed out of breath.
“We are on the hunt for a succubus who is suspected of being at your chapel, Father,” Scott said as an interrogator would. With every word, Scott inched in closer to the Priest, making him quite uncomfortable.
“There couldn’t be any creatures that you hunt here, these grounds are consecrated,” he replied with an awkward smile. No matter how you looked at it, the Priest looked like he was trying to hide something.
“I think these grounds need to be reconsecrated, because if it was, then this vampire charm would be red hot,” he said, pulling a small medallion out of his pocket.
“I see, I will have that done, but please leave. I am busy,” the Priest stammered as he tried to hurry us out.
“Lou, search the chapel,” Scott said to me sternly, as he looked around. I wasn’t sure what I was searching for, but I started to amble toward the end of the chapel.
“You cannot do that, this—” the Priest tried to make a rebuttal, but was hastily interrupted.
“We can do anything in our jurisdiction so long as it is to keep the peace, and you fall within mine. The Church of England has agreed to let us handle supernatural problems in or around Churches as we see fit,” Scott said with a glare that could stop a bear in its tracks. The Bishop shut his mouth and didn’t say any more, despite looking like he wanted to cuss Scott out.
Approaching the back left end of the Chapel, I found a door that was ajar. As I stepped towards the door to open it, there was a crash from the other side. It was loud enough that Scott came running towards it. Charging through the door into a long hallway spanning the side of the chapel, I saw a red haired woman around her mid-twenties, dressed in 19th-century lingerie bolting towards a door at the end of the long hallway. Running back there towards the front of the Chapel, the hall only held a confession booth and a few candle stands, so there was plenty of room to chase her. Rushing after her, Scott came running up behind me. I pulled out the silver knife and started forcing as much energy as I could into it, before chucking it at her. Because I had only received it today, I didn’t have enough control to hit a specific part of her body, so instead, I aimed for the door.
To my surprise, it lodged itself in the door right next to the handle as she attempted to grab it, stopping her in her tracks. The girl turned towards us as if ready to fight, but her face showed that she was scared. It seemed as though she thought we were going to kill her. Of course, in her defense, I would think someone was going to kill me if they flung a knife at me as well. The girl stood completely still, as if she were despairingly weighing her options. Although there was a door right behind her, she didn’t dare flee toward it. Probably because she was waiting for us to make the first move, or perhaps she’d just given up? I didn’t know what Scott was waiting for, all I knew was we had to capture her. Then Scott finally spoke with a kind and caring voice.
“Listen, if you come quietly we will bring you to Mama Louise without a scratch on you,” Scott said.
“I can’t go back there, they will kill me,” she pleaded desperately but with a stoic look reminiscent of a cornered snake.
“What caused you to kill your client?” I asked, hoping to learn her side of the story.
“This isn’t an interrogation, kid,” Scott snapped at me, giving me a sharp glance.
“He wanted me to join him and help kill Mama Louise. He was a collector for a small branch of the Leprechaun banking system that wanted to use the Succubi to make themselves grow in power,” she said. This caused Scott to cautiously step toward her. She cowered in fear but instead of attacking her like I thought he would, he questioned her in a calm tone.
“We will not hurt you, but I want to know more. If what you're saying is true, then we could clear your name with Mama Louise and stop this branch group. I apologize for being so rude. My name is Scott Langston as you may already know,” Scott said as he stripped off his glove, extending his hand to her. She looked up at him and nodded.
“Isabell,” she said with suspicion, before shaking his hand.
Isabell laid out what happened, and why Mama Louise thought she was a traitor. Her story was fairly simple. A collector disguised as a client offered her a deal to kill Mama Louise. Refusing to betray Mama Louise, Isabell turned down the offer. The collector realized that she needed to die, lest word would get out, and attacked her. However, she ended up killing him in the process. One of her coworkers walked in on this and chased Isabell off even after she had explained the situation.
Her coworker then told Mama Louise that Isabell had killed a client, but not the part about why. She must have already sided with this branch group before then, and Isabell not being there made her coworker's story more believable to Mama Louise. Not knowing what else to do, she fled to the Priest, who was one of her best customers, to hide until she escaped elsewhere.
After hearing Isabell’s story we ended up heading back to Mama Louise’s with Isabell, but not until after we had the Priest give her a nun's robe. We couldn’t go back there with her in lingerie, could we? Scott wasn’t too happy about the Leprechauns doing shit, but that wasn’t his job. He only kept the peace as he put it. Anything between monsters that didn’t involve humans wasn’t his domain. Despite that, he was still brought in to be a third-party mediator by monsters all the time.
“Hey, Barrett?” Scott said, gaining my attention.
“Yes?” I answered curiously.
“How did you get so good with that knife even though you’ve only had it for less than a day?” Scott asked.
“I practiced at the flat, but I can’t do much at all without a ton of focus. Though I don’t think I’m that good at it,” I replied honestly.
“Maybe I should introduce you to my witch friend if you’re that good with that thing,” he said.
“Are you going to get me drunk and put me in their house, like before with Iscariot?” I asked jokingly.
He chuckled for a second. “No, I am good friends with Iscariot, so I can do that kind of stuff with him. I can’t do that stuff with the witch, since she would most likely experiment on you,” Scott said.
I chuckled. ”She’s that bad?” I asked with a bit of disbelief.
“Yes'sir,” he replied with a smile and, as usual, he pulled out his flask and took a huge swig. I was starting to get used to his alcohol addiction, which isn’t good. Isabell started chuckling at us from up in front.
“Why do you seem so cheeky?” Scott asked curiously.
“Have you two been working together long? You seem like you’ve known each other for a good while,” Isabell asked.
“No, today is the kid's first day,” Scott said, throwing his thumb to his side in order to gesture at me.
“You two just seem to work well together,” Isabell stated.
“Thanks, but that doesn’t make the job any better,” Scott replied, as if to put down her opinion.
“That’s strange to hear from the wolf slayer of London,” she said. Scott's eyes seemed to snap at the mention of that name.
“Don’t ever call me that again, or I will kill you and leave your body for the birds,” Scott said with a threatening glare before tramping ahead of her and drinking more from his flask. Isabell slunk back next to me and seemed even more terrified now than when she was cornered in the chapel.
“What were you talking about?” I asked her.
She looked at me as we strolled and said, “Did no one tell you?” As soon as she realized I had no clue what she was talking about, she latched onto my arm, getting close to my ear. “He single-handedly murdered the werewolf population in London for some reason a few years back. Rumor says, he was avenging his old partner, or his wife. The rumors aren’t clear about which one, though. Now, no one who wants to live messes with him. It’s the only reason London is so peaceful. No one wants him to snap again,” Isabell explained.
“Jesus, he killed every werewolf in London? By himself? How many lived here?” I asked in a hushed voice so that Scott wouldn’t hear it.
“Over two thousand in total,” she said. Jesus Christ! That’s a lot, and yet, he’s scared of Mama Louise.
“Fuck,” I said out loud. It was the only word that came to mind, but it fit.
“I mean, if you truly want to, you could just ask me,” she said, changing the subject and latching onto my arm with seductive puppy dog eyes. For some reason, I felt compelled to accept. Was this a succubus trait or was she just that good at her job?
“Thanks for the offer, but sadly, I don’t have any money.” I answered honestly. “But I’m probably lucky for that…” I mumbled to myself. No offense to her but I was fairly sure that STDs weren’t taken very seriously during this time period.
“What?” she asked, confused by my incomprehensible mumbling. Letting go of my arm, she seemed offended that I had turned her down… or maybe it was my response?
“Nothing, let’s continue,” I said, taking bigger strides to move a bit faster as we went on our way to Mama Louise’s.
Behind us, a pale set of eyes watched us from the rooftop of an old building. The figure wore a newsboy cap, a white shirt, and grey pants that were held up with suspenders. He wasn’t very fashionable, but for the time period, he fit in perfectly. The figure then disappeared into the dusk light and fog. Looking up from the ground, I tried to avoid Isabell’s eyes only to see that Scott had stopped.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“We’re alone,” Scott said, before taking a protective stance as if guarding Isabell.
Looking around, I saw that what he said was true. The streets were empty, not even a rat was around. The fog that had started forming in the streets began to get thicker and thicker. Isabell latched onto my left arm even tighter as she noticed what Scott meant. I drew my knife with my right hand and was prepared to fight. Or so I thought.
The silvery glint of a blade struck Isabell from my left, revealing a shadowy figure from within the fog, jamming a dagger deep into her back before I could react. Isabell gasped in pain as she turned to dust just like the changelings had the other night had. Scott charged the figure but I was between him and it; so still in shock, I desperately swung my blade at the figure with my right hand. He ducked under my blade and effortlessly stabbed me in the stomach. The tearing of flesh, muscle, and internal organs echoed up through my chest and into my head. Gasping for air, I couldn’t think. I couldn’t move. Eventually, I thought “That hurt like hell,” before falling to my knees with the knife still wedged in my stomach. As I fell, Scott jumped in between me and the figure, but the shadowy assailant jumped backward at the last second, avoiding a kick in the face from Scott.
“You okay, kid?” Scott asked with a gritty but worried tone, as he looked back towards me and then at the figure.
“Yeah, just fucking great. If you beat him, could you let me kill him? I want to give him some payback,” I said between pained gasps for air, gritting my teeth. With every word, I felt a chill down my spine. Beads of sweat dripped from my brow. All I could do was clench the knife stuck in my gut with my left hand for dear life.
“Sure thing, kid. Use this to clean the wound. It’s high strength,” he replied, as he threw me his flask.
I shakily dumped half of the contents on my wound. The burn was gut-wrenching, so I drank the rest of the contents of the flask, attempting to numb the pain. Holding the wound as tightly as possible with my left hand, I used my right hand and teeth to rip my shirt to tie around the wound and increase pressure. While I was tending to my wounds, Scott had started to fight our attacker under the streetlamp, who was revealed to be a man in his late twenties. Though, he looked to be a street boxer, or a fighter of some kind.
Scott began throwing punches at the man, but he was always a step away. It must have known that his gloves were lined with silver, or it just didn’t want to be hit. Once the figure saw an opening, he punched Scott in the jaw. Stumbling back for a moment, Scott almost looked impressed.
“You can hit,” Scott remarked respectfully before spitting out a small bit of blood from his lip.
“Well, you can take a hit,” the man said in a thick Welsh accent.
“I'm a drunk, I don’t feel much anymore,” Scott replied sassily.
“Perhaps, but do you know who or what I am?” the man asked.
“I don’t know and I don’t care,” Scott said before running towards the figure. But it was ready, and as Scott threw out a punch with his right hand, it dodged to the right. Our attacker grabbed his wrist and struck out its palm into Scott’s stomach, flipping him onto his back with practically no effort. Landing with a grunt, Scott stopped moving.
“Stay down for a moment while I get my knife,” the man said, as it began sauntering towards me.
“Who are you?” I asked as I scooted back towards one of the buildings. Holding my knife with my right hand, I extended it towards him threateningly, while my left hand desperately held the other knife in my stomach. Beads of sweat began pouring down my face as I do, and I can feel my arm getting heavier.
“Ah, yes. I am in a new body so you wouldn’t recognize me. I am the changeling that escaped from you before, and now it’s time for you to pay for killing my kin,” the man said, kicking the knife from my hand and stomping the same foot down on my left hand. His foot pushed the knife even farther into my gut, as blood gushed out. I yelled in agony before finally passing out. 65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2xC8reZm1s
