“The team employed the use of Nightshade to get the information they wanted from their captive.” the message was half truth at best, uncovering even more grey shades of the growing nightmare that was The Silver killer.
The victims from all areas of the city, living different lives the only thread connecting them was their death and the Sliver of Hair borne on their pale necks. A very fancy message of the hangman’s noose.
The evening of June 18th stated with lady luck throwing me a tasty nibblet. Our famed killer might be on the prowl tonight. The whispered tale, far fetched and unlikely but it was something worth my troubles tonight. Looking at the lengthening shadows on the train from Scotland Yard, the prickles on my back as I walked the quiet street adding even more truth to my slippery info.
Sweaty, sticky perfumed air hung like old drapes over the bar. Not a large crowd but enough to have decent background chatter to a beautiful songstress. She was indeed pretty, probably looking to make it big in London.
As I nursed a new drink while she stepped backstage, I surveyed the little club.
My skin prickled. Needing fresh air I took my cracked glass outside. It was a full moon but the clouds weren’t going to allow the light have its way.
Soon a little shaft of moon light broke through and I saw a lithe figure running the roofs. The moon drenched silver hair waving in the wind burned an acid taste into my mouth.
The beautiful songstress was my new Jane Doe.
Inspired by Mondays Finish the Story – August 3rd, 2015
Photo – © 2015, Barbara W. Beacham