The Ambient Killers Web [Karameida x KiloBravo157]

[Karameida]

Lundan, Englund 1865

The streets of Lundan rang with the sounds of carriage wheels rolling across the cobbled streets. Hansomes carried gentleman to and from their clubs, paper boys on the corner yelled out lurid and attention grabbing head-liners. Shady looking men loitered about in dark alley's and disheveled women offered their wares to the passing men. Smoke clung to the air making everything seem and feel dirtier, fog swirled around the streets threatening to cast everything into obscurity. All in all, it seemed to be the average every day scene that one would expect of the city.

Lundan was home to the rich and powerful who made the fancy ball-rooms their play-ground, they took notice of little else that went on outside of their world. It was also home to the criminal and poor who lived in the dark underbelly of Lundan. Unlike the privileged, those who existed in this world took note of everything around them and often times took note of what happened in Polite Society. These two main groups each formed the two main sides of a coin. The two sides of society were mirror images of each other, each operated in much the same way as the other. One was just a darker, rougher version of the glittering sphere that the wealthy inhabited. Both worlds were corrupt and dark of heart. Few who inhabited each world could claim any purity.

The whole of Lundan was shocked when news of Alen Aldred's murder had been splashed across the various news-papers. Each one attempting to shock their viewers anew with claims and theories. There was no doubt but that it was murder, Aldred had been found in his bath-tub with a single bullet wound to the forehead and a strip of silk pink cloth shoved in his mouth. While it was true that Aldred had not been apart of Polite Society he was nevertheless considered a "Respectable" member of society. It was much different than hearing about some thug or whore being pulled from the Thames river. This was shocking.

The next murder would not have been nearly as startling if it hadn't of shared the same similarities as Aldred's murder. Terrance Campbell, a police officer found murdered on the very streets he normally patrolled, a bullet through the forehead and pink silk shoved into his mouth. The news-papers had, had a heyday with Terrance's death. There where whispers that this was the start of a serial killer. It horrified and awed the readers at the same time. A serial killer was in their midst? Impossible!

The third murder sent ripples through-out Lundan. Julian Healy, a Judge was found shot in his own home. There were those that speculated that he was killed by the same person who'd killed Aldred and Terrance but no one was certain. Sure, he was found with a bullet to his head but the tell-tell pink cloth in the mouth was missing. As in the case with Terrance, his death normally would not have made the news but seeing as there were two other prior killings in an eerily similar fashion, the reporters felt a need to connect all three deaths together. Whether there was an actual connection or not was now irrelevant. The other interesting fact of Julians death was that no one had heard a single sound coming from his bedroom.

Was there truly a deranged serial killer roaming the streets of Lundan? If so, who were they? Were they of the criminal class? Or did they spend their time in more...elevated social circles? And more importantly....who would they kill next?

 

[Karameida]

The Copy-Cat

He'd done it.

The copy-cat took slow deep breaths trying to calm his erratically beating heart and pounding pulse. The little baggage had put up more of a struggle than he'd anticipated. He'd assumed she'd go without any problems, quickly and efficiently; the way he liked everything to go. Instead she had struggled and had fought back vehemently. He'd been surprised at her strength and fierceness. She'd almost gotten away, almost but not quite. He felt his breathing slowly return to normal as he stared down at the woman he'd just murdered.

Even if there had been some slight complications he'd still managed to pull it off and no one was the wiser. A sense of euphoria soon filled him mixing with the rush of adrenaline. He felt his body start to become aroused. Smiling to himself he reached into the pocket of his great coat and pulled out a strip of pink silk. He watched the string flutter in the small breeze before he shoved the piece of cloth into the dead woman's mouth. He stood back and admired his work; the dead woman's eyes gazed sightlessly up into the inky black sky. Her body was still warm and blood still pooled from the bullet wound in her head. He felt a need to celebrate, he'd go to his favorite brothel and use some whore to find some release for his hardened state. With one last look he turned on his heel and left the body where it was.

It wouldn't be long until someone found Beatrice Grove and when they did, the death would be in every news-paper all across town. He'd enjoy reading about it.

 

[KiloBravo157]

The shop smelled of dust and copper. To anyone else, the scents were invasive and bothersome. To Braffen, it defined his life. A brilliant inventor, he toiled away at the metal and the wires for most of each day. Lundan was not a place where a man of his breed was meant to thrive. Not yet, at least. Society was too polite to shun him openly, but Braffen knew exactly what this city thought of him and his work. Still, at least once a day, someone would come in needing something fixed whether it be a telegraph, a jammed gun, or even a broken shoe. Sometimes, someone wanted a discreet invention. Maybe a small pistol or a hidden knife. Braffen couldn't turn down the money it brought in.

Braffen came down stairs to the personal project sitting at the center of his cluttered desk. It was the beginnings of a personal alarm system for his shop. Just another upgrade the old place could use. Electricity was still a foreign concept to most, but Braffen studied it extensively. The light fixtures in the building were just the first step of his planned implementations of this new power source. A mistake in the wiring caused the device to short out when electricity was put through it.

Frustrated, Braffen moved it aside and took off his glasses to rub his temples. His vision was blurry without his spectacles, which normally incited anxiety in the young man, but he couldn't care less at this point. He just stared at the door with his head in his hand, wishing something more exciting would happen to him today.

 

[Karameida]

Deirdre Adams​

Deirdre pursed her lips as she viewed the body of one "Beatrice Grove". She rested one hand on her hip while the other tapped her chin thoughtfully. The cause of death was easy to determine, someone had shot the poor woman in the head sometime late last night. It was very familiar to three other recent killings. Pulling out a handkerchief, Deridre knelt beside the dead woman and placed her fingers on the cold chin forcing the mouth open a little.

"Miss Adams!" the words came from the constable who was hovering nervously behind her. The words came out on a strangled cry of near outrage. "What do you think you are doing?"

She let out a sigh and let her hand drop from the dead woman and turned her head slightly to look over her shoulder, irritated at the interruption. "I am attempting to investigate. I thought it was obvious." she said turning her attention back to the woman. A breeze howled through the alley where the body was and something inside the woman's mouth fluttered. Furrowing her brow she reached over and stuck her fingers inside the woman's mouth. Behind her she could hear the constable nearly choke on another outraged cry. Suppressing her agitation she caught hold of a piece of silk. With an uneasy feeling she pulled out the string and stared at the delicate strand of pink silk that fluttered helplessly in the wind. Rising to her feet she turned slowly to show the infuriating little man what she'd discovered. "I think this leaves little doubt but that the same man who killed our last three victims has also killed Mrs. Grove." she said on a whisper.

She watched satisfied as the shock of recognition came and went on his face. She turned her head to stare at the dead woman "I suggest you remove her body from the alley and notify her family about what has happened." she said turning back to face the constable.

"Right, Right" he muttered still staring at the silk cloth.

Deirdre adjusted her hat and started walking at a sedate pace towards the mouth of the alley. Which, in truth was rather hard as she wanted to hike up her skirts and run. Despite the morbid scene behind her she was excited. She knew he would kill again, it was only a matter of time. She had not yet identified who the killer was, nor his motive or even why he left behind pink silk stuffed inside the victims mouth. The lack of information should have been a source of immense frustration for her but today it didn't bother her. She had an appointment with someone whom she couldn't wait to tell. She knew that the papers had probably already printed out the poor woman's murder but she had information they didn't. She couldn't wait to discuss her findings.

She hailed a hackney and gave him the directions to the little shop.

Deirdre was considered odd and the fact that she did investigations into murder made her even more odd. She was a pretty woman of four and twenty, with a slender frame, small inquisitive mouth, long lashes that framed brilliant opalescent blue eyes, fair skin and pale blonde hair that was done in ringlets. She was a widow who had been previously married but only for a short time. The late Mr. Adams had left her a considerable sum of money which she had wisely invested and over the last few years had watched the money grow. Although previously married she was an heiress and many had sought her hand in marriage again but she had no intention of ever re-marrying. She enjoyed the freedom widowhood allowed her. And she had no intention of letting any fortune seeker get his hands on her money.

She felt the hackney come to a stop. Leaning forward she caught sight of the shops and with an impatient movement she opened the door and hopped out of the hackney before the door could be opened for her. Digging in her reticule she pulled out some coins and tossed them to the driver who snatched them out of the air and made them disappear into his coat. Picking up her skirts she hurried to the door of the shop and pushed it open. The smell of dust and copper hit her as soon as she stepped inside. Adjusting her skirts she walked farther into the shop.

She stopped a little uncertainly when she saw the owner of the establishment with his head in his hands. "Mr. Braffen? Are you alright sir?" she asked hesitating a moment before walking the rest of the way to the counter.