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Shallows Creek: Requiem Of The Guilty

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Blurb

In the town of Shallows Creek paranoia and surperstition run rampant in the populace fueled by the teachings of the church. A killer who can't be traced is targeting the wealthy and powerful causing an uproar in the townsfolk who blame vengeful spirits for these crimes. With no level heads in sight and the constables stumped they call on the service of the peculiar Doctor Kent Lockheart studier of the occult and human anatomy. A victim of superstitious mobs in his youth, he now strives to show the misguided masses that with reason and logic even the unexplained can be explained. With tid bits of humor and plenty of mystery to go around Lockheart must navigate through the dark side of humanity to prove that man is always the monster.

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The Specters Call
The story you're about to read may be disturbing to others, and may make you question some belief's but I assure you it's one worth telling. Along the dark streets and alleys of the town we call Shallows Creek is where our story begins. Night had fallen on the town of Shallows Creek the air was still and the sky starless, the streets empty of life, except for the occasional drunkard stumbling along to find some warmth in a hovel. Along the cobblestone road it is dark with only oil lamps to light the way, through the flickering flames a silhouette can be seen of a cloaked figure fliting in and out of sight making it's way down the path only moving through shadows, moving from one house to another. Till it comes to a stop in front of a large manor, the outside of the manor which was overly lavish especially for the area with tacky lawn décor which dotted the yard in the shape of marble statues sculpted in the form of muscular balding men with thin pencil mustaches above their lips, thankfully the sculptor had seen fit to leave out any phalic details, but the works were to say the least an insult to the statue of David. The outside of the manor was painted a sickening purple which made the lawn décor all the more awful in comparison. This was home to Ronald Pembrooke a wealthy. despicable man who cared little for others sat alone in his study. The room was quite dark and the only lights were of his candle he had next to his chair and a fire in the hearth to illuminate the room. Ronald was a portly man whose hair had all but left him, while in his chair he was staring at a sketch of a young women with an unsettling grin across his face. While running his thick, pudgy fingers along the sketch they stopped in the center, in the sketch the women was wearing a silver locket with a bright blue gemstone in the middle of the locket, his fingers lingered their for a moment. Just then the door to his study creaks open, he turns his gaze quickly at the sound of the opening door there in the doorway stood a young women dressed as a maid, "Ah it is you come on in." Ronald calls to her. The young women closes the door behind her and shuffles closer to the sitting Ronald. "You called for me mi lord?" The young maid says in a miserable tone, she knows why he's called for her his wife is gone on a trip and she's alone with this horrible man. Ronald stands up from his chair his girthy belly undulating up and down as he makes his way to her. "I am so very sorry to call upon you so late, but I have a problem that needs attending." he says to her smirking through his repugnant smile. "Of course sir whatever you need." the young women trying desperately to keep a smile says to Ronald. "Good to hear that my dear, it seems my belt is oh so tight around my waist would you mind helping me loosen it." as he motions to the leather belt which seems to be straining against his girthy belly. "Yes sir." the poor maid says as she begrudgingly bends down to unfasten his belt. In her mind she knew what this was about and she wished more then anything to be gone from this place, but he was a powerful man and she was nothing more then a servant. As she laid her hand on his belt she could hear his uneven breathing it was nauseating. Before she could go any further the sound of footsteps suddenly disturbed them." It must be my wife!" Ronald exclaimed. "I had sent everyone else away for the night you must hide quickly!" he stammered with panic in his voice. The young maid did not need convincing she turned from him and ran to his desk quick as hare, once there she crawled under it to hide from who was approaching. The footsteps begin to grow louder and louder, Ronald quickly started to fix his appearance and scanning the room to make sure the girl had hidden herself well, Relieved that he could no longer see her he turned towards the door. Suddenly the footsteps stopped and the door began to slowly creak open. "Margret I was not expecting you to return so early from your trip." he had already begun to make excuses before the door even had opened fully. "You must quite tir….. who in the devil are you." he shouted as the door had finally been opened all the way and standing in the door way was not his wife but a cloaked figure brandishing a small blood stained blade . As the cloaked figure entered the room it removed it's hood. "Ah Ronald let out a yelp, that face you can't be leave me alone." he shouts fear overcoming him! Walking into the light of the hearth it's face reveled, It was the face of a young women twisted in agony with a still never moving expression, she had matted white hair with flecks of blood around it's tips, she wore nothing but a dark cloak and a bright silver necklace adorned with a blue gem stone which hung around her neck. The ghastly women began to approach Ronald step by step she grew closer to him, Stay away he cries out trying desperately to escape her, but it is of no use the women is upon him before he can make his escape. "No no please I beg of you spirit leave me be I...……" Before he could finish those words a fountain of blood escapes his throat his hands reach to cover the wounds but it is far too late, his eye’s rolled back into his skull and with a loud thud he falls to the ground lifeless. The specter stands over his body motionless, it’s eye’s hollow an unblinking horror. The maid under the desk with her hands over her mouth to stifle her own screams.

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