(1908, Unknown Season. London)
--This was after the Black King had left the City.
--This was around the time the girl was getting acquainted with a Shadow.
People disappearing was common in cities.
Naturally, some had their own kind of forewarning. Some were bewildered or in agony, at times even trying to convey their stress and panic to friends and families before disappearing due to external or internal factors. From that point on, with or without warning, it was all the same. Whether it was from work, school, friends, family, or any societal group they were a part of, they'd be cut off from them, communication gets cut off, and even their bodies vanish on the spot.
And some of them would come here.
At her place. In other words, the morgue.
They come in a dark room with a chilly atmosphere, lying on their backs on a cold chrome forensic table.
So ugly and rotten as they grew, the stench of death and blood leaks out.
The air itself was especially gross. This was especially true for the corpses that come out of the Thame's where they absorbed the contaminated waters. There was a unique presence in the atmosphere different from that of the smell, and that made her feel really hopelessly dark.
She hated corpses more than anything else in the world.
That was why she wore a black veil when doing her work at the morgue, or so she says. The very thought of her face coming close to the air surrounding a corpse would drive her insane.
"I wish they hadn't fallen into the Thames. Truly. Whether they fall over and die, or die and fall over, they'd end up in such a terrible state."
The woman, Robin Funnel, shrugged her shoulders.
She was a slightly crazed coroner who wore dark mourning clothes.
Her graceful body, which can be seen through her clothes, and the bridge of her nose covered by the veil would both indicate that she was beautiful. But not many have seen her actual body. There were even rumors that she would display the corpse of those she likes, but this was a big lie. So why was it so sad for her to show off her body to a corpse?
"I'd wish these people weren't born rather than dying like this."
"Quite an irrational thing to say there, Doctor Robin Funnel."
"...Ah, yes. I didn't hear on having any visitors today."
Inside the dark room--
There were two figures who reached up to the ceiling that was illuminated by Engine lights.
One was a woman donning mourning clothes.
The other was a tall man.
"Yes. It's been a long time, Crowley. Can't believe you aren't dead yet."
"Quite say I have earned the right to be your lover yet."
"I was jesting. I don't sleep with corpses."
"Ah--"
The man, the figure himself, shrugged his shoulders.
The man had his unique smile plastered on his face as usual, still fatally bad at making jokes as if he thought of himself as a first-class comedian. She always wondered how he was able to open his mouth without a handkerchief or gas mask in the midist of such stench of death and blood. She had to give him some level of respect for that.
"You aren't here to flirt with me, are you? I thought you people were busy with something. Something about an important person coming back or whatever. This and that, being murderers."
"Ah, well," said the man with a smile, looking over the swollen body of a drowned man. "Although the Shaggai Plan is part of the Core Plan, it's quite a different chain of command from that of His Excellency the Golden King's arrangements."
"Stop that. I'm only here for one thing. Whether it's from you guys or from the yard, I'm merely dissecting the bodies that come in. I won't ask you of those plans, nor wish to be a part of it."
"How cold of you, Doctor. I merely wish to talk about work and how you've managed to get the attention of the person we're interested in."
He lied with a sneer.
"If you're trying to woo me, do it outside the morgue."
"What about here?"
"I was jesting..."
Slightly, he turned his gaze towards the drowned corpse.
This place could hardly be considered a place for just the two of them.
"A drowned corpse isn't such a good thing. I understand the logic. How about I use one of my Arts, To Mega Therion (The Great Beast), and just incinerate the corpse with high heat?"
"It's just going to smell fishy. Stop that, or I will kill you."
"Good grief."
The man shrugged his shoulders.
He lets go of the corpse and takes a step closer to her.
Sime of his figure was revealed. It was a man dressed in a well-tailored dark suit that could only be described as British or Eastern New World style, his eyes hidden behind bright sunglasses. There was a single expression on his face. That unique smile of his. It wasn't like he was happy or anything. It had a cold feeling to it, one that wasn't satisfied by anything.
That man's smile. His facial expression. It was certainly human, but it felt inorganic for some reason.
It was a shark's smile.
One that felt as though the world was distorted--
"You, killing me? A Covenantor?"
That provoked her. Yes, he realized it the moment her body moved.
She "took out" a chrome dissecting scalpel in the palm of her hand and gave it a sharp flash. Going on and on in trying to woo her made him drop his guard as she closed the gap of 6 feet with just a single step and swings her scalpel in her right hand so as to accurately slit his throat. The throat, that which would have instantly severed the blood that travels from the heart to the brain. She despised corpses more than anything in the world, yet it wasn't any different with living things. Living things can break easily. They can die. Even if they were to remain alive, they'd die shortly after. They die quickly. One can see it as the difference what was before a corpse and what was one after.
That's why she hated it.
That's why she can kill with ease.
Robin Funnel was not afraid to kill those she despises.
"Quite the temper there."
"Tch..." she clicked her tongue. The hand that held the knife was softly received by the man's hand. It was soft to such an extent that she knew if the man twisted his wrist, her hand and elbow would shatter in an instant.
"That was dangerous and risky."
"Oh? Perhaps it's a shame then?"
"No. It's this that makes it dangerous. I could have burned you out with my Art. We senior agents of the Society are dangerous people, as you can see."
The man pressed on with his shark-like smile.
He was one of her "clients" that gave her work, a senior agent of the West India Company that was a huge secret society that roams in the darkness of Europe and the world. He, dressed in black clothes. A tall man, with his shark smile.
A Covenantor--
She knew of that name. Human-shaped weapons that obtained an Art from Marseille. A few years ago, they were able to kill all intelligence officers of the Ottoman Empire which continued to stir unrest, annihilated a new tank unit that was being tested in the African Continent, and crushed a revolution in a certain country in the Southern New Continent. Freaks was a general term used for such beings. And this man was one of them.
"...You're a freak."
"That's nothing to the Top Executives Chrome Bodies."
"Yes, yes. So what does a freak want with a human? If there's a corpse you need me to look at, bring it to me quickly."
"You don't mind if it's a file?"
"Well, not really."
She quickly moves away from him, a shiver running down her spine as she recalls the man's right hand had before touched the corpse. It was only after placing the scalpel on a table by the forensic table did she noticed an unfamiliar file sitting next to it.
"I'm not into parlor tricks. You could have just handed it over to me."
"Excuse my rudeness then."
"Shut it."
She spoke while opening the file.
These were records of countless corpses.
These weren't those of natural causes or accidents.
They were killed.
--Possibly by the hands of one man.
(To be continued)
No comments:
Post a Comment