Archive for February, 2015

Abaddon’s Apocrypha Chapter 1 by MC Jeffrey

Posted in Uncategorized on February 3, 2015 by mcjeffrey

Chapter 1  Abaddon’s Apocrypha
London East End 9 November 1888.

“Watch him, Mute, this man is an artist in his field.” Mather’s voice seemed almost full of admiration. They watched from the shadows of Dean Street, unseen, as the man took the working girl by the hand, laughing and giggling, making their way towards Flower Street.
The Somnambulist and Mather, keeping their distance, trailed the couple hugging the shadows to remain out of view as they made their way through Spitalfields and into Dorsett Street. The man, approximately 5’5″ tall and well built, had a swarthy complexion and a thick, black moustache. He wore a dark deerstalker hat and a heavy grey overcoat, pulled up around him to protect him from the winter cold. His look was that of a man with means but shabby and not of society. The girl’s colouring was difficult to ascertain in the gas-lit streets, perhaps blonde or auburn. She was buxom and quite pretty, and seemed at ease with her companion as they walked along joking and laughing with each whispered conveyance.
When the couple reached Miller’s Court she fished a key from about her person and the two slipped inside the small bedsit, light illuminating the ground floor domicile seconds later. Mather and the Somnambulist quietly and carefully inched along to watch through the bedsit window, a small gap allowing them both to see inside yet remain hidden from view. The Somnambulist peered into the room, noting sparse décor; a queen sized bed, a cheaply-made cupboard, a dresser with mirror, a chair, and, in the corner, a wash basin with a jug of water at its side. The man pulled the chair into the far corner of the room, near the door and placed some money on the dresser. The girl inspected the amount, appeared agreeable, and then began to undress continuing to chatter as she went. The man, however seemed to withdraw into himself as he stripped, meticulously removing his clothing piece by piece, folding each item and laying it in an immaculate pile on the chair. The man’s actions spoke of someone, once intent upon fun and debauchery, now almost business-like.
The Somnambulist could not help feeling somewhat unnerved and unsettled by the man’s actions. Mather, sensing his companion’s unease, simply said, “Yes, I know, he is wonderful. I must have him.” seeming to read the tall mutes thoughts and sense his unease.
The girl, however, did not appear to notice the sudden change in her patron’s demeanour and continued to prattle on inanely about little, if anything, of note as she undid her undergarments. The man was now fully naked, his taut, muscular frame belying a hidden strength and power not noticeable when he was fully clothed.
The girl was now totally naked, her body, although a little flabby in places, was still relatively lithe, her breasts pert and her mound neatly trimmed. The girl was, in the mind of the Mute, a cut above the usual standard of prostitute in London’s East End. He began to pity the girl.
The man turned his back on the girl and demanded she lie on the bed. The girl agreed willingly, lay down opening her legs seductively, displaying her sex and began to pleasure herself. The man, taking little, if any, notice drew something long and metallic from his pile of clothing and, holding it behind his back, made his way to the bed and the ever-eager woman. The tall mute strained to see what it was but could not quite make out what the man was holding although, with sorrow in his heart, he had some idea.
As the man climbed onto the bed the girl lifted up to bring her mouth to his and raised her arms as if to embrace him but, as quick as a flash, the man whipped out a large curved knife and cutting the blade across her throat. Blood erupted from her carotid artery and sprayed over both their naked bodies. The Somnambulist was aghast as he saw that the blade the man was holding had sliced the girl’s throat through her windpipe and cut deep enough to expose the vertebrae of her neck. The mute also became aware of the man’s face. An emotionless caricature, expressionless and devoid of any feeling took the place of the jolly, friendly fellow they had first observed earlier in the night. Then the frenzy began. Mather, under his breath, simply stated “Beautiful”.
The man set about the girl’s features first, the blade hacking and slashing at her face, destroying her delicate visage, each bite of the blade ever more violent as he appeared intent upon obliterating her beyond recognition. Her nose, cheeks, eyebrows and ears were partly removed, her lips torn, shredded and cut away in deep welts leaving an almost sinister grin instead of the once full, deep red, sumptuous lips she had only seconds earlier.
He then turned to her breasts, gouging at them in a circular motion, removing them down through the underlying muscle to her ribs. There was no finesse, the intercostal muscles between the fourth, fifth and sixth ribs were cut through and the lung exposed, such was the wound. He slashed at her hands and arms, no inch left unblemished by his assault as he tore and mutilated the corpse.
He stopped, breathing heavily from his exertions and looked down at his work, smiling. He repositioned himself on the bed and looked at her, as yet, unspoilt stomach and sex, then, just as quickly as he stopped, he again set about his task. He opened up the girl’s abdomen, the cut from navel to pubis allowing him to access her kidneys and liver, which he cut away. He then concentrated on her uterus, removing it in slivers, the last of which he swallowed as he continued his work. He cut away the abdomen and pubis in three large flaps, gently placing them beside the breasts and other viscera. As he hacked at her buttocks, legs and knees the man began to shake and moan, and, reaching his euphoria with a loud cry of ecstasy, he collapsed, spent, on the mutilated body.
Lying there as if for an age, unmoving, his respirations rapid, he slowly began to compose himself and as gently as if he were handling a new-born babe, he began to reposition the girl’s body. He placed the head to her left, positioned the left arm across her abdomen and the right arm at an angle away from her body. He then moved the legs wide apart with the left thigh at a right angle to the trunk of her body.
The man then lifted up the head, placing one of the mutilated breasts under it, and gently lay it back down. The other breast he placed by the right foot, the kidneys he positioned between her feet. The uneaten parts of the uterus and intestines he put by the right side of the body and the spleen by the left.
He then alighted the bed, placed the three flaps cut from the pubis and abdomen on the dresser and went to the wash basin, filling it from the jug of water. He washed the girl’s blood from his person, methodically and slowly, ensuring that each inch of his body was free from her life-force, then walked to the other corner of the room to his clothes and dressed.
Turning one last time to admire his work, he took in the bed, awash with the girl’s blood, and the thickly congealing pool of blood, two feet in diameter, forming on the floor at the right of the bed. He smiled, removed the money he had earlier placed on the dresser, opened the door and exited into the cold night, closing the door behind him.
Mather’s slunk back into the shadows just as the killer exited the small home of his victim, and watched him wander off into the night stalking him from afar just out of sight, the murderer whistled a tune to himself obviously happy and pleased with his nights work, not knowing he was now the hunted.
.jack

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