The gas lamps littered throughout the streets did little to illuminate the city at night. The weak glare showed a few cobblestones and cracks in the street. Fog patrolled the streets like every other chilly night. Frost began to cover the windowsills of the tall brick townhouses. All was quiet expect the trotting of a horse's hooves and a cart. The shadow of the horse was fleeting as it raced down the street.
The driver of the cart, tugged the horse to a stop of a rare alley. The man dropped down into a cold puddle of liquid, he knew not of what. Avoiding the trash bins the man came to a stop in front of a small door. He looked from one end of the alley to the other. The man rubbed his sweating palms on his trousers. With shaking fingers he grabbed the brass knocker and with a heavy hand, dropped it five times onto the door. He could hear the sound rebound throughout the house. He waited. And waited. The man huffed in the cold darkness. He couldn't simply leave. Leaving would unleash a certain evil onto the city that he didn't want to be responsible for. He steeled his nerves to grab the brass when a soft click sounded.
The driver felt his knees buckle slightly. He never expected that at the door of all of the underground of England, the door that instilled fear in the hearts of men, the door that contained the unspeakable, would be opened by a small girl in a lily white nightgown. "Agneir residence." The man stood, mouth descending slowing towards the cobble. A cool breeze caused the young girl to shiver and shifted the door to shield her body, "How may I help you...?" The man snapped out of his bewilderment, shaking his head slightly, "Lord Cornwell." After correcting her, he remembered his manners, bowing towards the young lady. He didn't say what he was thinking. That it was inappropriate that a lady, especially her age, would open the door. At this hour nonetheless.
He stood back up and once more looked over his shoulder, and making sure nothing was lurking in the shadows he leaned forward and whispered, "May I ask who you are?" The little girl straightened her back, pushed her shoulders back and with a high chin replied, "I am the daughter of Doctor and Duchess Agneir. My name is Permilla Agneir." Before Lord Cornwell could say anymore, the young Agneir turned around and ran into the darkness of the house. Lord Cornwell shivered in the cold as he waited. For what he didn't know.
It wasn't long until he heard the patter of bare feet on tile, almost shadowed by heavier ones. Permilla dragged her father, half asleep to the door. "I believe he is here for your assistance father," Permilla moved her body behind the door to give her father room, but she would not leave. This promised to be exciting. A visitor for her father at this time only meant one thing.
"You must help me." He blurted,"I fear God may never look onto me again,"
"This is not a church and I do not believe in God," The doctor rolled his shoulders as he turned his back and yawned, "Take your religious gibberish elsewhere."
"I've seen things unbefitting," Lord Cornwell's voice was loud and rung into the night, "The very manifestation of a demon lays on my cart," The doctor and the younger version of him both honed in on the cart, like wolves surveying its newest prey. The sleep peeled away from his eyes and a wild curiosity took its place. An eerie smile graced Permilla's lips, causing Lord Cornwell to trip over his next sentence.
"T-they whispered your name. They said the only way to be rid of the demons was to take it to hell."
With a small quirk in his lips, that terrified the Lord, the Doctor gestured towards the open door of his house, "Welcome to hell and do wipe your feet."
Permilla led the way through the dark hallway as her father and the lord struggled with the slumping brown sack. The dark hallway turned into the kitchen, a large thing filled by orange lights. Permilla rushed forward towards the small door and opened it as wide as possible. She headed down the wooden steps and the creaked their welcome. The cold concrete of the floor frozen her toes through her slippers. The smell of iodoform was heavy in the air. Permilla's hand groped around until she met the string hanging from the ceiling. Muted light went through the room.
It revealed the long silver table in the middle of the room. The Doctor and the Lord deposited the large sack on the table, a third of it hanging off the edge. There was another silver door next to the multiple green cabinets. The Lord went slightly green at the sight of one of the cabinets, as it contained multiple jars filled with liquids and some of what his eyes couldn't fathom.
As Doctor Agneir gathered materials from the cabinets behind him, Permilla bent over the large brown sack. It was made of rough material and had 3 long tears on the side. If pulled apart, they would reveal what was inside, but Permilla refrained, to save the horror from the inexperience eyes of Lord Cornwell. She could tell, that while the Lord might be a grown man, his heart, as well as his breeches, were not. Lord Cornwell finished scrubbing his arms and grabbed the nearby towel. "I think I shall take my leave."
The Doctor didn't look away from the cabinet, with overflowing arms, he replied "Of course Lord Cornwell, but before you leave might I remind you. This must stay strictly between me and you."
Lord Cornwell only scowled, the color red replacing the green, "I would desire nothing more than to forget that I ever had to visit this demon pit that you call a home." In a childish fit, the Lord threw the towel on the floor as he stomped up the steps, down the hall and into the night. He ran his cart back home fast, trying to outrun the thought of darker forces so close to him.
(*)
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~Jasmine
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Tainted Perceptions
HorrorPermilla Agneir has never considered her life calm. Both of her parents work for the Queen of England. Her mother comes from a long line of successful monster hunters and her father comes from a long line of scientists who catalog monsters. That al...
