November 12th, 1906 A.D.
The British Empire; England
North Yorkshire, Whitby
The air was thick with fog as it rolled over the cobblestone streets of the port town of Whitby; it one of the usual wintery days, a damp chill that would cling to the bones of the locals; whispers of ancient secrets and forgotten tales had previous brought a group of mysterious origins way back in the Seventeen-Hundreds, the locals at the time had not taken much notice; only through the beginnings of the Industrial Revolution had they really become noticeable; and by the turn of the Nineteenth Century into the Twentieth, they had come to know these mysterious Cultists by their Cult name; the Cult of the Minotaur, they had been increasingly active over the years, and soon another group arrived calling themselves the Hydra; two Cultist groups that seemed to have a disdain for one another, but seemed to still work together, what they were searching for, no one knew, but with their presence, just like everywhere else across Britain and within her Empire; crime, chaos and poverty came with them.
Ethel Ashcombe, a bright-eyed woman of twenty-four had lived within Whitby all of her life, both of her parents had succumbed to a fever that had unfortunately broken out the previous year, it left her with only memories and an inherited will to find solace in her daily rhythms.
Ethel worked as a seamstress in a quaint little shop on the high street, stitching garments for well-to-do families that would visit from the bustling cities, her life was simple.
As the fog grew thicker, Ethel could feel the growing sense of dread, it was seeping into her heart; the fear she felt, was noticeable on the faces of so many people she would encounter.
One night after closing up the shop she found herself walking within the thick fog filled streets; walking along the narrowed lane, she passed by the houses that would cast long shadows caused by the light of the street lights, she only really noticed the shadows because of a sense of fear that just wouldn’t dissipate, it kept her on edge.
Eventually she stopped by a church, taking notice of some movement; while everything in her head was screaming at her to run, a tinge of curiosity compelled her to investigate; making her way into the much darker environment of the graveyard by the church; she glanced about intently, relieved that nothing was there, she turned and upon turning she nearly had heart-attack; the shock of coming face-to-face with another person that had made no noise sent her backwards, stumbling until she fell back onto the floor, she could feel her heart pounding in her chest.
Looking at the young girl stood directly in front of her; she was breathing heavily, her chest moving up and down rapidly “Who the hell are you?”
Tilting her head a moment, the young girl just looked at Ethel with some curiosity, then she glanced to the side, something has clearly gotten her attention, she maintained her silence; Ethel’s confusion and fear was at an all time high right at that moment, she wanted to know what she was doing sneaking around; her eyes soon fell upon what was clearly a knife that was just barely visible beneath her jacket; the sensation of overwhelming fear just made her panic even more.
Knowing Ethel was scared, she glanced back to her, moving her finger against her lips, clearly gesturing her to stay quiet; not wanting to get killed, Ethel just stayed silent as gestured, as she stared at the girl, she noted how young she was, she was guessing around the age of Sixteen, maybe a little older, but not by much; she then noticed sound in the distance as the young girl crouched down, it was obvious she was trying to be less noticeable.
Within the fog, the sound of movement passing by the two girls was very noticeable, a man was whistling a rather haunting tune; he seemed unaware of the two of them as he was walking; when finally the whistling got further and further away until it couldn’t be heard, the young girl rose back up, moving over to Ethel and offering to help her up; hesitantly, she accepted, slowly getting back up, and following her out of the graveyard.
Once back on the street, she was able to get a proper look at the young girl, her innocent and angelic looks, long dark hair; but it was her eyes that drew the most of Ethel’s attention, her eyes were like silver; Ethel had never seen such eyes before, despite how innocent she seemed to look, the expression she had present indicated something else “Who are you” she asked, her voice was a tremble, she was actually afraid of this girl
“Lydia” she answered, looking at Ethel, her tone matched the innocent look she seemed to have; her voice was soft, but it was clear she was from the south; a Londoner, her cockney accent was very strong
“Why are you out here; and why do you have a knife” she questioned, she was trying to position herself authoritatively, but the tremble in her voice made this attempt very difficult
Lydia just gave a rather confused expression in response, noting her attempts to sound like an authoritative adult “Uh.., because there are people trying to kill me” she told her “Why would I be hiding in the first place” she said “If I hadn’t come to you; you would be dead” she told her, gesturing back to the graveyard
Glancing back in the direction of the graveyard, she thought for a moment; why did she go in there she wondered, normally she would have done anything to avoid going in such a place at such a late hour; turning back to Lydia, she found that the young girl had gone, quickly glancing about. In confusion.
In the graveyard surrounded by the fog, a well-dressed individual wearing a bowler hat on his head, he came to a stop, still whistling a rather haunting tune out, he knows that Lydia has escaped him, finally stopping his whistling, his lips curved into a sinister grin “Well played” he chuckles with some amusement, slowly turning and beginning to walk back in the direction he had come from, knowing by now, Lydia will have escaped the graveyard.
Meanwhile Ethel has rushed back to her home, the overwhelming fear she had felt having urged her to seek out safety; upon entering her home, she decided to sit in the dark, taking deep breaths to calm her nerves; she had so many questions racing through her mind, she just did not know where to even start with trying to answer them, she had no answers; and without being able to ask questions to that young girl, she knows that this little misadventure is something she won’t try again.
At a spawling manor house situated not too far from the port town of Whitby, there was a presence that commanded attention, the elegant estate was enveloped by rolling farmland, the lush green fields stretched out as far as the eye could see; the magnificent property belonged to a wealthy individual, whose affluence was evident in every aspect of the manor’s design and upkeep.
The grandeur of the building, with its towering turrets and intricately designed facades, it spoke of an era not-too long past.
The expensive grounds were meticulously landscaped, featuring blooming gardens that burst with colour every season, alongside the well-tended hedgerows and enchanting pathways that meandered through the property.
Livestock grazed peacefully in the pastures adding to its already idyllic rural charm; the manor itself boasted spacious rooms adorned with exquisite furnishings and art, each telling a story of the owners refined tastes and indulgent lifestyle.
Surrounded by the tranquillity of nature, this estate was not merely a residence; it was a sanctuary that reflected the wealth and status of its proprietor, a central figure of his local community; but in the background his life, his connections to the Cult of the Minotaur offered him a much different life that people were unaware of.
With an announcement about an arrival, the estates proprietor, seated comfortably in front of the fireplace gave a gentle wave of his head, gesturing to show them in; it took a moment, but when the man from Whitby entered the room, he slowly turned his head “I lost her” the man said, though his grin didn’t indicate he was at all frustrated with the outcome
Nodding his head “Well, I doubt she will be leaving the area anytime soon” he turned his attention back to the fireplace “So Samuel; how did you lose her this time anyway?”
“She lured me into the Graveyard” he chuckled, slowly meandering his way over to a chair, taking a seat as the gentleman turned his head back to look at him “She is a sneaky lass”
“She has been learning from her mother” the manor’s proprietor comments, again turning his attention to the fireplace, listening the crackling of the fire
“It isn’t just Cathryn she has learnt from; she learnt from George as well” Samuel looks at the fire a moment “I think George’s refusal to deal with Cathryn may have caused a real issue for the Imperium’s council” he leans back a moment
“I agree” he again turned his eyes back to Samuel “But his failure has had severe consequences for himself as well; the burning of his estate, the collapse of his authority”
Samuel lets out a chuckle of amusement “True” he says “Bet he wont learn from it though Verne”
After a few days pass; Ethel has since forgotten her encounter with Lydia in the graveyard; returning back to her monotonous days of working, the fear that hung within the air was still there; on one such day though, everything had changed for her.
The rain fell in merciless sheets across the port town, clattering heavily off of the buildings, it was like looking at tiny little rivers as they formed in the cracks of the pavement.
As she arrived to her place of work, she discovered the body of the owner, he was laying sprawled lifeless on the wet ground in the alleyway behind the shop; if she hadn’t been taking a slight detour because of her lateness, she would have missed the body entirely; she felt a coldness wash over her, her encounter with Lydia rushing to the forefront of her mind.
Not long after this discovery, the police were notified, and they were soon on site, investigating the body; this however wasn’t the first body of the day, not far away another had been discovered, the body of a young woman, and towards the town centre two others has been discovered, the two in the town centre belonging to a couple that has clearly been ambushed by someone acting in a similar way to the individual or individuals that had targeted the young woman, and Ethel’s boss.
There didn’t seem to be any connection that linked the four bodies; making it difficult for the police to get a grasp on who targeted the four; Ethel, left in a state of shock had returned back home.
The following day, Ethel learnt that another two bodies has been found; the number of killings rising to six now, as she read the newspaper, she questioned why there was so many killings all of a sudden; Lydia’s arrival seemed to bring death with her, she wondered if somehow she had brought these killings onto Whitby somehow.
Knowing it was against her better judgement, Ethel decided to try seeking out Lydia, wanting to unravel the truth of what is going on, so, late into the evening decided to go out in search of the young girl.
Wandering around aimlessly, Ethel realises she doesn’t actually have any idea were to even begin, she didn’t know anything about the Lydia, and as for the man whistling in the graveyard, she didn’t even see his face, so with no clue what to do, she takes a deep breath in and just decides to turn back to return to her home.
Though as she is walking, she comes to the realisation that she is being followed, the sounds of footsteps behind her having become noticeable, feeling her heart beat beginning to increase, the recent killings fresh in her mind, she begins to realise just has foolish it had been to even try investigating something she had no idea about.
Picking up the pace, she heard whoever following her doing the same; then she heard it; that eerie whistling from the graveyard, she looked back, she could see the silhouette of a man following her; a shiver rushed down her spine as she entered into a sprint.
Turning down an alleyway in the hopes of escape; the whistling once again gets her attention, looking up to see someone stood at the end of the alleyway, she had gone pale, in a panic as she felt frozen by her fear “Number Six” Samuel’s voice says, as he comes into view, slowly approaching Ethel, she could see the knife in his hand; she started to back away from him as he slowly, he was deliberately with his slow movement, he knew she wouldn’t be able to escape him
“Please” she whispered, her tone begging as she realised she had no where to run too, she had just back up to what was clearly a dead end within the alleyway “Please, no” she whimpered
“I love that” he said sadistically, a chuckle present in his voice; he loved the power dynamic, it was obvious to Ethel that no begging will let her escape, she could feel her heart pounding in her chest “Keep going” he told her, he drew closer to her, but suddenly stopped; a noise grabbed his attention causing him to turn his head, looking to see what the disturbance was; but as quick as a flash of lightning something struck across his left eye, the pain was intense, he dropped his knife to the ground, bringing both of his hands up to cover his left eye, he could feel the warmth and wetness of the new wound as an amber-liquid rushed down his face, he let out a cry of pain; but it was soon silenced, the base of his throat felt the sharpness of a blade cutting deeply from left to right; he found himself unable to say anything, moving his wet hands from his eye down to his throat as he began to choke and gurgle, stumbling backwards and falling against the wall
Ethel stared, she was in shock; that innocent looking girl she had met in the graveyard; she had was far from it; but her face showed pain, like her act had physically hurt her, she could see a shiver as she stared at the man she had attacked; Ethel’s eyes drifted towards the man that was about to kill her, he was sat on the ground gurgling, choking on his blood “Why are you out here” Lydia questioned, a tremble was present in her voice, she didn’t look at Ethel
“I was searching for you” she admitted, turning her eyes to Lydia, she watched her carefully for a moment “We should get out of here” there wasn’t anything further said; the two leaving Samuel to choke to death alone in an alleyway
Bringing Lydia back with her; once in the safety of her home, she looked to Lydia, she had so many questions; but at the same time, she was just as afraid of this young girl as she had been of the man that was going to kill her “Why was you looking for me” Lydia questioned
“Because I wanted to know what you brought to this town; there has been a lot of killings since you came here” Ethel said, her tone was rather accusing, Lydia looked at her with a questioning expression
Shaking her head, she looked around the room a moment “They’ve been here far longer than I have; they were here before I was even born”
“They?” Ethel raised her eyebrow, the movement sharp and questioning; her expression puzzled “Who are they?” the ambiguity of that simple word threw her mind into a whirlwind of thoughts
“The Imperium” Lydia answered, turning her eyes back to Ethel, the tone rapidly shifting, the air felt colder to Ethel, she wasn’t sure why, but the ominous way that Lydia said it just gave her a chill of fear down her spine “There are two Cultist groups here in Whitby, they’ve been operating here for over two-hundred years” she told Ethel “You don’t want to get involved in this, it is dangerous” she warned
“If it is dangerous, why are you involved with them” Ethel looked at Lydia questioningly
“Because I was raised in that life; and you can’t escape it once you’re part of it” there was a sadness present in Lydia’s eyes as she said that, Ethel could see she was unhappy “They never leave you alone; you are a target your entire life once you become involved in it; don’t come looking for me again”
Ethel wasn’t sure what else to say; but she felt a wave of sadness for Lydia as she watched her leave her home.
Returning back to the scene of Samuel’s death; Lydia checked around to ensure that there wasn’t anybody around before making her way to find the body, Samuel had died exactly were he had fallen, kneeling down, she pushed open his jacket, checking his pockets a moment, finding some notes folded in his pockets, she then took notice of the holster with a revolver; reaching her hand out, she gripped the revolver and pulled it free, bringing it out she looked at it carefully, snapping it open a moment, seeing it was loaded, she snapped it back shut again with a click “Better than a knife” she comments before straightening up
Moving away from Samuel’s body she looked at him, she remembered this man back in London, he had let an attack on her mothers house that had forced them to leave, she narrowed her eyes, anger was boiling within her, turning away, she decided it best to get going before she was found.
At Verne’s estate; it is the following day when he is informed of Samuel’s death in an alleyway; he shook his head “Lydia Langdon” he comments “Samuel underestimated her; he forgot who trained her” he says, looking at his butler he then chuckled slightly, he found some amusement within the news, Samuel, who previously claimed to be so successful in one of the encounters during a meeting in London, this was the second failure, and this time it was to a youth he had underestimated “Well Archibald, I do believe it maybe time we send word to the Imperium’s council; Cathryn and her daughter are both equally a threat to our operations”
Travelling by horseback; Verne had made his way from his estate to the desolate woodlands, hidden away within was a mausoleum, it would seem almost forgotten if not for the presence of Verne, it was draped in shadow and secrets, anyone that did know of it, would certainly keep clear; like any place that is known to be as haunting, rumours often swirl around them, whispering tales of ghosts and demons, rumour of murder; this place however, it was used by the Cultists, and they had certainly used this mausoleum for sadistic purposes.
Passing through the creaking gates, Verne was met by a hooded individual waiting for his arrival, venturing into the coldness of the tomb, they spoke in hushed voices, knowing that with Cathryn and her daughter; they could be anywhere, they had a knack for interfering with anything that the Imperium or their Cultists got up too, they wanted to be certain they would not be heard while they discussed things privately
Lydia finds her way to the mausoleum, approaching it, she felt a mixture of emotions, while she hated the life she was dealt, there was another part of her that was yearning with insatiable curiosity, the lure of the mausoleum, its crumbling façade a testament to times cruel passage; pushing the heavy iron gates, they creaked and echoed hollowly, it was like a warning bell, she could feel a darkness enveloping her as she passed the threshold of the gate, entering within the grounds and slowly began making her to investigate the tomb itself, following the information she had managed to learn from the notes she took from Samuel’s corpse.
Verne and the man he had come to meet with heard the sound of the echoing gate outside of the building itself, someone had found their meeting place; they had a good idea who, and so moved deeper within the mausoleum, taking the maze of cold corridors that connected deeper to many other tombs, they remained silent as they moved, Verne suspected that if it was Lydia, they could use the advantage of the maze to ambush her, but, the individual he had come to meet; Barnaby, he had other plans, with how dark things were, he was able to slip away from Verne without notice, he had always been good at disappearing right under people’s noses, and with Verne’s attention being on their guest, he knew he wouldn’t even notice; after all, they needed to remain silent anyway.
With only dancing light cast by the fire-lit torches, Lydia glanced about as she began investigating within the tombs, slowly she moved into what she knew was going to be a maze of corridors.
She expected an ambush, and was prepared for such an encounter, she kept her hand resting beneath her jacket; gripping the revolver she had taken, she steadied her breathing as she pushed onwards; then, she stopped, she noticed something in one direction, she would be left in complete darkness, but, the other, something tugged at her curiosity, the heavy door she just noticed was slightly ajar, it was beckoning her like an unholy whisper; instead of pursing into the darkness, and possibility being ambushed, she chose the heavy iron door beckoning her.
She had a struggle, but she managed to push the heavy door open, revealing the inside to be a chamber, it was adorned with cracked mirrors and remnants of candles long extinguished; the whispers in her head, whispers she had heard before, started; she shifted her eyes, carefully looking around as she ventured into the chamber.
The air within felt different, it felt charged, almost alive, tracing her fingers over the cold stone, her heart started to hammer against her chest, the whispering she could hear within her mind seemed to be warning her, she twisted around; she felt like she was suddenly in a daze, moving her left hand out again to steady herself against the wall
The warning whispers she had just been hear gave way to whispers of threats; they began to seep through the walls themselves, she was unwelcome, and the entity within made that clear, the whispering words clawed at her sanity, they taunted her, pushing a feeling of dread and helplessness, fixating on feelings she held, the very feelings of how much she despised her existence, how she would never be able to live a normal life; she felt as though she was being mocked, it made her angry “Shut up!” she screamed
Hearing a scream of frustration, Verne raised his eyebrow; Lydia hadn’t followed him into the dark maze of corridors, she had gone somewhere else, she sounded as though something else had gotten to her by her outburst “Wait here” he said, believing Barnaby was still right there with him; he ventured back the way he and Barnaby had come from, unaware that now, Barnaby had left the mausoleum entirely.
As Verne went to investigate what was happening with Lydia, he discovered the open iron doorway, he could hear the sounds of sadistic whispers come from within; he had never heard such things before which sent a chill down his spine, he wondered if somehow, the Imperium had been using something they had been searching for without ever realising.
Within the chamber, an angered Lydia turns to see Verne as he comes into the open doorway; pulling the revolver free, she doesn’t hesitate as she pulls the trigger; the shot rings out, echoing within the silence of the tomb.
With the whispering suddenly stopping, Lydia doesn’t notice that Verne’s fall caused something to fall out of place; moving her hands up to her head, she feels a sudden sense of relief, the whispering voice she was use too urging her to leave, and to leave quickly; she took off into a sprint, she had killed Verne, and back in Whitby, she had killed Samuel; she didn’t need to stay within the tomb any longer, she didn’t need to investigate those taunting voices, she would instead return to her mother, but she wouldn’t speak of what happened, she wanted to forget what just happened.
But what they said to her would linger; the taunting would never leave Lydia’s mind, it would indirectly drive her in her crusade against the Imperium; she knew she wouldn’t get to live a normal life, that much was clear to her now.