Proluge - Book 1 - Chapter Three
Chapter Three
“He will bring into the light of day all that at present is hidden in darkness, and he will expose the secret motives of men's hearts.”
John sat snuggling under the covers, he was warm, happy and best of all he was enjoying himself. Carson sat, a broad furnace next to him, for all the warmth they both put out you'd figure they'd never need blankets, even on a night like tonight.
Thunder struck again and the sleet started, it was half past October and quickly moving into November. Turing the heat on wasn't an option for them so sweaters, blankets and hot pots of tea it was. John silently wished for forced air heating. He started rubbing his hands together noticing how the room had gone cold again. Maybe he needed a snack he always got cold when he didn't have dinner.
“Oh let me get that.” Carson scooped his hands up in his shovel sized paws. John squirmed a bit enjoying the warmth but a bit awkward. He tried to chalk it up to odd Scottish friendliness, or the odd way English men were. Granted they did seem somewhat light in the loafers especially when you first “got off the boat”, but as time went on John really started to wonder about Carson.
“Mmm, you wanna change it?” John asked, leaning away. There were no remote controls and changing the channel meant having to get up and cross the room. Then wait until you found something to watch, usually by that time you were ready to lay down right in front of the darn T.V.
“Well,” Carson paused for a minute, “If I do then you'll get cold, it'll leave a big empty spot for a bit.”
“How cold is it in here.”
“I'm figuring zero. ” Carson said.
John smirked, “yeah, sounds about right.” He took his hands back and rubbed his arms.
Carson being the oddly friendly guy he was reached over and wrapped his arms around him. He rubbed John's shoulders then held him in a bear hug of sorts. John frowned, he wiggled to sit back over on his side, as the local evening news came on.
Carson squirmed, “hey John can I ask ye' somethin'?”
“Yeah su-” “A murder rocks the metro area here in Birmingham tonight-”
John froze.
“A corpse was found just inside Selly Oak Park yesterday having the appearance of being eaten, residents in the area are stunned and -”
He gasped and watched in horror as the report went on. This thing had been in the paper here and there but it had been buried in the back. So far it hadn't made it to the news except for one other time. Apparently it was a blight or thing of shame so the town was trying to keep it hidden. John was grateful for this because the only other time it had been on the telly he'd had to leave the room.
Carson appeared on the screen next looking dashing and strong, his chest puffed out, his shoulders rolled back. Despite his covering John cold see the tell tale signs of harried stress around his eyes and in the creases of his mouth.
“Hey John I've got a question te' ask ye'” Carson pulled on John's arm.
A reporter stood next to the Carson on screen rambling off something long and detailed. Carson was a private person not liking the stage or being the center of crowds and to John it showed in this moment. He was trying to play off his nervous shock of being interviewed yet was giving off every sign of nearly clamping up tight and bolting.
“So what do you think of all the upset lately?”
The microphone was shoved into his friends face.
“Well, I ahh!” Carson rocked back on his feet and gave a winning smile. “Really I donno. I wish, taking a few classes up at University here,” he gave a half hearted point over his shoulder, “tha' the curfew wasn't in place but I haven't been too worried, I figure their about to catch the culprit. I mean I figure there's tell tale signs it was a Libertine and how many of them are out there doin' that sort of thing now.” He gave a half beaming chuckle the smile fading quickly. Apparently he'd said something wrong, John noticed it instantly, his comment was a bit prejudice though Carson hadn't realized it. To automatically assume it was a libertine was an insult, initially it was thought to be a ware-wolf of some sort the bodies so shredded and just mangled. Even the bones were eaten on some of the corpses. The story went on interviewing a few other people. John heard his throat make an odd kind of gasp and he sat up.
“-this investigators say has been going on for a good thee months now. Their petitions to get a head investigator from Scotland yard have finally been answered, and they hope to wrap this case up soon.
Until then police are reminding everyone to heed the ten o'clock curfew that was instituted. With everyone's help we should be able to-”
“What a load of bloody crap.”
“What?” John turned coming back to the situation at hand. He shoved himself up and away.
“Burr! Cold mate!”
John shoved the blanket at him and stood. He needed to flee but where too, and what good would it do him.
He could feel Carson's gaze, “what's wrong John?”
“Ahh I- you-why didn't you-wow.” He was terrified, to even take one wrong breath meant sure death for him.
Thankfully Carson noticed none of this and instead it was Carson's turn to be caught out. He went silent and shrunk under the blanket, self conscious.
John latched onto this instantly and played it for all it as worth. After far to many minutes of good hearted teasing John was able to slip up stairs to have his freak out.
Thankfully Carson never suspected a thing.
Despite his attempts to stop his body had other ideas. Before long it was as if John had no mind of his own, his body taking over. In an attempt to take control again John tried to keep himself full, yet despite the sheer gross quantities of food he consumed he never gained an ounce. Soon his feedings started to get on a regular schedule of four a week. He couldn't help himself and with this the number and frequency of the murders and killings mounted. The locals were distraught and just lost, and soon were beside themselves with worry. No matter how hard or long they searched there was no answer to the now infamous “Jack the Dripper”. The name was stupid as all heck but it still sent shivers into everyone's spine. Bodies were found shrivelled, and dried, or rotting with open mouldy sores still bleeding out it seemed. Some of the corpses looked like a ware-wolf had eaten them alive. Others looked like they were still alive and well, their bodies carefully posed, their skin still pure and delicate, their whole form untouched in anyway.
It baffled the hell out of everyone and the curfew was clearly not working. The constables or police had thought it was at least four to five different people doing it. It wasn't until two months later that the private investigator they hired figured out it was one, maybe two people.
During this time Carson seemed to be working up to something. John figured it was financial especially after one incident. They'd been to a few antique and junk stores when they came upon an old wooden table and chairs. Carson took one look at it and ran his hand over the top, “would you like to buy a kitchen set together?” he smirked in that joking way he always did.
John chuckled and picked up a chair, “yeah sure why not.” He checked for makers marks and to tell if it was made from real wood or some kind of cheap imitation. He figured that Carson was getting low on dough and that was why they guy had started dragging John to antique shops and any kind of second hand place.
Together they brought the table set home and proceeded to fix it up.
While looking for places to rent Carson had made sure to get his hands on a place that offered a shed slash workshop. This allowed John to be the local handyman and general fixer-upper. By this time he usually had a good five projects going on at once. Despite this John took the time to teach Carson everything he knew or had learned about wood and restoring it.
John taught Carson how to refurbish the old oak table and John sanded, sealed and repainted the chairs.
By the end it was good as new and looked perfect in their place.
It was the first and only thing they'd make together.
John was sure that by the end of the project Carson was going to level some kind of a bill on his head, saying he just didn't have enough to let John slide any more. That or he was going to ask John if he wanted to try and go in 50/50 on buying a house together. ( John always considered paying rent to be flushing your money down the toilet and he'd let Carson know this right off. )
Surprisingly nothing ever came. John started asking about tuition and the cost of school supplies thinking he should try his damnedest to help out somehow. Carson just told him not to worry about it and got a bit grumpy. Not wanting to rock the boat John decided to leave the whole thing alone after a while.
It was during this time that John started to get hot and bothered. He was just fine going out and being on his own, even running into other males was no big deal. But he was starting to notice more and more the good looking guys, and his day dreams were starting to wander in the wrong direction.
It was the day he finally decided to get his guts up and settle it once and for all that he really wished he could take back. He'd gone and driven to a town he'd never been before, and bought a magazine and the news paper. He had the items bagged in a brown sack and quickly rushed home with his contraband. He hoped reading it would put to rest all the terrible illusions that he might be a sicko. Tossing the thin brown bag on the table he started up the kettle for a cup and went up stairs to use the loo. By the time he got back down stairs Carson had gotten home. Now Carson's class schedule was always changing and it was true that every now and then the guy would pop up unexpectedly. For the most part though Carson was out all the time, his class and work schedule keeping him more then busy. This meant that John had the run of their rented home to himself and had no worries.
John walked into the small dining room where their newly finished table sat, “Hey Car!” John slapped him on the back forgetting all about what he was about to do, “what brings ya' home early?”
Carson sat stone still his back to John, “Ah-umm” he cleared his throat and rubbed his mouth. “I ah, me class was cancelled so I decided te' come home, take ye' out to lunch.”
“Ah, yeah I guess.” John went into the adjoining kitchen, “Hey you want a cuppa? I just put the tea kettle on!” he called out to Carson.
“Not really John.”
John blinked, “Somethin' wrong?” he turned around, went back into the dining room.
Carson sat, the porn magazine and Gaily News paper out in all their glory.
Carson shifted unnerved and gingerly reached out his finger tips, “So whatchyeah got here John,” he smirked and picked at the items in front of him.
“Hey don-” John grabbed for them but Carson snatched them up ready to tease.
John rocked side to side watching Carson and the dirty filth in his hands.
“John?”
“What.”
“Can I ask ye' somethin'...”
The room suddenly grew serious and Carson's smile faded.
He put the magazines down on the table.
If John didn't know better he was about to be evicted, in a foreign country.
“What.”
“Are ye' gay.” It came out like a parent asking a child if they'd done drugs or the like.
Maybe it was this, maybe it was the tension, maybe it was being found out before he even knew himself; whatever it was John went off on poor Carson; right then and there. Later he wouldn't be able to recall exactly what he said or what happened, but he knew he scared the guy shitless. John took a silent pride in that for the guy was built like a dump truck. For someone that big and that good at wrestling and all things sports to be intimidated by someone as lithe (compared to him) as John; well, it said a lot.
In the ruckus Carson had tried to grab the crap away from him which caused John to shred the shit and shove it in the trash.
In the end he left Carson standing at the foot of the stairs slack jawed and just staring.
John had stomped up to his own room and later on might have heard a knock on the door, some constable or what have you coming to see if everything was alright.