Angel of London

The Angel of London

THE ANGEL OF LONDON...

"Miss Jackson! Look at me when I'm talking to you."
Charlotte Jackson looked up and her bright blue eyes danced and sparkled with mischief. "Sorry sir, but could you not interrupt The Angel of London whilst he is speaking to me." Mr Walsh looked at her with burning hatred in his eyes. "Miss Jackson. I don't have the faintest idea what your talking about but if there where an Angel of London, which I take the liberty of doubting. He's obviously no more than a figment of your imagination. Now get your head down and please do us all a favour. SHUT UP!" Charlotte looked back down and whispered "sorry my angel, he just doesn't understand you like I do." No sooner had she said that than the room went completely black. In the dark Charlotte smiled devilishly. Mr Walsh would regret offending her London Angel if that is he ever lived to tell the tale.

"You're a fool Richard Walsh. Denying my existence. Insulting my love and calling her mad. Now you will pay the ultimate price. You will pay with your life, unless you have any words that are of interest to me which I highly doubt. So are there any words that you believe will save your skin?" There was a deafening scilence. Finally the Angel of London spoke again "I thought not. Make peace with your ancestors and, most importantly, Miss Jackson." The lights flickered back on and it was revealed that in the darkness someone, or something, had thrown a noose around Mr Walsh's neck. He was hoisted up to his tiptoes and was loosing life fast. "Agh...I...I'm...I'm...sorry." He had just finished his sentence when he was lifted entirely of the ground and his breath was drawn from his body. Then with a sudden THUNK. His corpse, dead as a doornail, hit the ground. Amidst all the chaos, Charlotte turned and saw Mr Walsh's killer standing in the doorway. "Are you hurt my love? Did he do anything to you?" His real voice was more airy and romantic sounding than when he had last spoke and that was because The Angel of London was in fact a young man in love. The same age in fact as Charlotte and his name was David Jade Reynolds.

FLASHBACKS...

It was the middle of a 1998 summer at Kings Cross Academy a time long before the Angel of London became known to the public. A time when the only person that knew of the angel was the angel himself and Charlotte too. It was the middle of a Science class and the students where testing explosives in the lab. David and Charlotte where chatting and giggling between themselves when Mrs Colton caught sight of the two and silently made her way over. they didn't realise she was there until she cleared her throat. "Ahem...just who started this humorous conversation?" She asked with a voice colder than burning ice. Her cold, dead eyes filled young David with terror and he gulped "I...I am Madame." Mrs Colton lashed out with razor sharp nails and struck 10 year old David on the face. A nasty, deep red gash had appeared cutting straight down making a bloody stripe in the flesh surrounding the poor boys left eye. She had obviously meant to cause him serious harm as when she stepped back she smiled showing every one of her pearly white teeth. "That will teach you to talk during my class." She snapped "now go clean yourself up boy. I want to see that eye spotless by the time you get back, and don't you dare think about skipping the lesson. There are far worse things than a blooded eye." She turned and got back to helping the only boy that any of the teachers liked. Edward Thompson or the "teachers pet" as he was called by the other students. As he spoke to Mrs Colton he gave David a look of pure hatred. Then he turned and gave Charlotte a look of pure lust. Scary thing for an 11 year old to be doing but that's what he was. Scary.

David was a genius. He had A star grades in drama, history, architecture, computer science and technological studies and A grades in everything else. Yet, despite all that, the professors hated him but...why? Was it his dark, cruel sense of humour, his personality or maybe his inability to focus when surrounded by lesser minds. Actually that was probably it. Actually that was it. David always found himself unable to focus when surrounded by people as uncivilised as Edward Thompson or even the teachers (yes David saw himself above even the principal of the academy not to mention all those other professors that David deemed unqualified to teach and lecture at an academy for geniuses like himself.) so yes that was definitely why the teachers hated him. It was because he hated them more. With a passion I'd dare say and that was what drove him to become The Angel of London. If the professors couldn't see his gift of pure genius and imagination as soon as they met him...he would force them to see him as such and he would also inflict on them as much painful, dream destroying, heart wrenching agony as they inflicted on him. He would spend the next seven years, three of them in prison, doing research, building underground tunnels and inventing death traps to draw up the most maleficent and the most satisfactory revenge plan that any man had ever dared, and will ever dare, to think about.