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This Rommel is hard to understand, as Alain is. Now Athens is ablaze... what's next?
TheHyphenated1 said:
I suggest you to start reading from chapter zero if you want a quick start. My first few posts were actually just to get people an idea of this AAR's setting.
Kurt_Steiner said:
Well, everything will be explained sooner or later. Just wait patiently for the future updates to start rolling in.
.........
BTW, the name Alain actually comes from one of my marking Teaching Assistants. He hasn't finished marking the midterm papers of my class for almost a month.
When can he just hand back those papers?!?!?!?!?!
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BritishImperial said:
Thanks, I've also replied to your message. About my plot, I always try want to present it in a way so that my readers will think continuously about the meanings of every single detail.
BTW, some annoucements. The next update may require a lot of effort for me to write, so I might not make it on Saturday. Furthermore, I've more midterms to deal with next week. On top of that, I'll have to prepare for my FINALs, so I'll get quite busy in the following weeks and I can't gurantee the updates then. Hopefully if I can squeeze some time out to get at least one update per week.
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Oi, nationalistic terrorism!
A good reason to dow some neighbour?
Excellent narrative!
A good reason to dow some neighbour?
Excellent narrative!
Here's the update, expect minor changes as always. The next update will be sometime between this Saturday and next week. Then I'll have my midterms and almost certainly I'll begone for a couple of weeks. Whatever, enjoy the update for now! Hopefully this update is not too confusing to read now. There's a lot of things I tried to write so some of my expressions may be a bit awkward. o
Hopefully this update is not too confusing to read now. There's a lot of things I tried to write so some of my expressions may be a bit awkward. o .........
“Do you have anything to do about this?”
“Yes, Major Rommel.” Alain answered quietly.
“Then why did you …”
“Please, Major Rommel" Alain interrupted Rommel. "Please, just follow me for now. I do have a small request to ask you to do. I’ll tell you all about this, I promise.”
“What …” said Rommel, startled by Alain’s words.
Alain then walked away in a quick pace soon after he finished his words. Rommel followed behind him through the streets without a word. The two of them arrived once again at Alain’s house.
“Can you help me carry Makbule? We are going to church now.”
Beside the filthy dining table, Alain was picking up Naciye’s body. The two girls rested their head on the table motionless. It appeared that they were dead for only a short time.
“The church?”
“Yes, the church. Perhaps you’re expecting me to say “mosque”? A few days ago, I let my sisters convert to christianity in order to secure a grave for them.” Alain then carried Naciye’s body on his back and left the house with Rommel behind him carrying Makbule’s.
“Why don’t you weep for them?” Rommel said behind Alain.
“One weep because he wants others to pity him. I know that it’s useless for me to ask for pity. Therefore I do not weep.” Alain said without turning his back.
Rommel and Alain then arrived at a church and entered its backyard. The church was empty and the two enter with ease.
“I know that I’ve ask to much out of you to carry Makbule here with me. However, can you just that do me a last favour?” Alain then handed Rommel a shovel, which Rommel silently took from Alain’s hand. The two men then began digging.
“Can you now tell me what all this is about now?”
“Yes, certainly, Major Rommel. Where should we start? From the beginning, I guess.” Alain gave Rommel one of his sad smiles again.
“I was a disobedient child when I was young, and had fights with my father almost all the time. We had our biggest fight when I refused to take over my father’s business, and I left home as the result of the fight. I did not have much skills, and did all sorts of odd jobs until I joined the Legion, perhaps in hope of some adventure. What I did not expect was that my father was extremely depressed after I left, and one day when he was drunk a horse carriage overran him and fractured his skull, killing him almost instantly. ” Alain then paused for a moment before continuing.
“At that time I did not return even after I know of my father’s death, and my mother raised all my siblings by herself. Perhaps she just pushed herself too much, and it was not long before she became seriously ill. My mother then died, only a couple of years after my father left us. Mustafa, the eldest of my siblings, was only a boy then, and I just couldn’t leave my family behind for the second time.”
“Then I made perhaps one of the greatest mistake of my life. I chose to come back to take care of my siblings, and that meant that I became a deserter of the Legion.”
“A deserter … ?”
“Yes, a deserter. At first I thought they won’t care for a someone with no money like me, but I was wrong. The Legionnaires sent to get me burnt my old family house, and I moved my family several times to avoid the pursuers. I was finally caught here in Athens and thought that was the end. However, I was given a choice.”
“A choice?”
“Yes, a difficult choice if you want to say. I have the choice to die with my family or die myself and let my family live.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Nothing more than what I just said. General Mercier appeared at that time and gave me a choice. My family and I could either die a horrendous death together, or I could do the General a final service before I die and let my siblings live. The service is to let you believe that the Greeks are up to something and let you do the killings to get all the hatred going among them, while I prepare the bombs for the one incident that will spark a chain reaction. When I was a Legionnaire, I did not see much combat, but was a specialist in making explosives. The bombs tonight were of the highest explosive power per unit weight, complete with multiple barrels of petro to get the fire all over the place.” Alain then stopped digging as a sizable grave had been dugged.
“A tragic story we have here don’t you think, Major Rommel?”
After a long silence, Rommel finally spoke. “What are you planning to do now?”
“I’ll have to execute the last phase of this messy matter once and for all, Major Rommel.” With his tired eyes, Alain smiled sadly again at Rommel. He then placed his two sisters into their individual graves, and started to fill in the soil.
A public square of Athens, a few days later,
“Hang him, hang him!!” (Greek)
A large mass of people had gathered at a public square. In the middle of the square was a sinister looking gallows. A bloody half naked man was brought up to the gallows, his body fresh with signs of torture. As soon as he appeared, the crowd began to bombard his body with everything ranging from eggs to pebbles.
A Gallows
“Hang him, hang him!!” (Greek) The crowd chanted wildly beneath the gallows.
The half naked man was unmistakenly Alain, although his face was seriously disfigured with cuts and bruises. Two brutes hung a thick metal wire around his neck and placed Alain in a position for the fall to death.
Rommel thought about their last conversation. “What last phase?” asked Rommel.
“What I’ll have to do is to inform the Greek authorities that I did all this and take all responsibilities for all the killings” said Alain. “I’ll show them all they want, the plans for the murders, the equipment I used to make the explosives, the planning of the bombing locations … all they will ever want. They will arrest, and torture me of course before executing me. Furthermore, the Greek nationalists, the people that we had been killing all these times, will certainly seize the chance of using this incident as an excuse to drive the Turks out of Greece and perhaps Europe all together with the support of the Tsar, and certainly with the Republic under General Mercier. My country, the Empire, will probably be carved up by the Great Powers and become a semi-colony. General Mercier had been plotting this all along, and I know about this long before too. You know, the Greeks had been doing nothing all the time. It was us who made the first strike, killing them night after night. They must be filled with rage now as their whole city is now burning, and will be more so when they learned that a Turk did it. I estimate that the bombing tonight must have killed at least ten thousand people, not to mention all the people who were injured and homeless. Ten thousand souls will accompany me to my death, guess it’s not too bad right?” Alain then squeezed a sad smile onto his face.
“Then why did you have to kill your sisters too?”
“Mustafa certainly could not take care of them, and he will have to live for us all. My sisters will have to stay here, where they will probably die in a similar horrendous death as the thousands of Turks in the city will have in the hands of the Greeks. You can take it this way: better do it yourself than let others do it.” Alain said sadly to Rommel, avoiding Rommel’s eyes.
The wooden board beneath Alain opened as expected, and the fall did not break Alain’s neck. Alain then began to struggle and kicked his legs as his life was gradually squeezed out of him.
Suddenly, two man climbed onto the gallows. One of the men carried a big tank of what seemed to be boiling pig fat and drenched Alain with it. The other man carried a torch and set Alain on fire.
“Burn, Burn! Burn like a pig!!” (Greek) The man yelled and taunted Alain as the whole crowd began to scream wildly. Alain writhed in pain as the flames engulfed him and turned him into a blazing fireball.
Suddenly, the sky began to rain unusually heavy. The crowd then dispersed, leaving the gallows empty. Alain’s body was still hung on by the metal wire around his neck.
Rommel then thought about Alain’s last words. “There is one last message General Mercier wanted me to pass on to you." Alain then pass a small paper slip to Rommel. “Although this may be too much to ask for you, I hope that you can find yourself a better life, Major Rommel. Please just don’t live a life like mine.”
“I do not weep because I don't expect mercy from anyone, but at least I can smile.” Alain then smiled sadly for the last time at Rommel and gave Rommel a soldierly salute before he left Rommel.
Rommel took the paper slit from his pocket and opened it up. The paper had a short typed message on it.
“You have seen the death of many people in your life, however they were people you don’t know. Perhaps the death of people you know will make you a better Legionnaire.”
“I’m sorry Alain, I’m really sorry.” Rommel said quietly as he looked at Alain’s charred body, and crumbled up the paper slit in his fist. The rain quenched the remaining flames on Alain, and nothing was left of him but black charcoal.
“It’s all because of you, right?” (Turkish)
Rommel turned aside and found a youth staring with hatred at him. The youth was Alain’s brother Mustafa. Mustafa in his school uniform was drenched with rainwater, but his face seemed to be burning with rage.
“I shall be back, I swear, and change all this. All this injustice!” Mustafa then turned and ran away.
After seeing Mustafa’s disappear from his sight, Rommel too left the square. Something trickled down his cheek, but it was not known whether it was tears or just the cold raindrops that chilled Rommel down to his heart.
“Yes, Major Rommel.” Alain answered quietly.
“Then why did you …”
“Please, Major Rommel" Alain interrupted Rommel. "Please, just follow me for now. I do have a small request to ask you to do. I’ll tell you all about this, I promise.”
“What …” said Rommel, startled by Alain’s words.
Alain then walked away in a quick pace soon after he finished his words. Rommel followed behind him through the streets without a word. The two of them arrived once again at Alain’s house.
“Can you help me carry Makbule? We are going to church now.”
Beside the filthy dining table, Alain was picking up Naciye’s body. The two girls rested their head on the table motionless. It appeared that they were dead for only a short time.
“The church?”
“Yes, the church. Perhaps you’re expecting me to say “mosque”? A few days ago, I let my sisters convert to christianity in order to secure a grave for them.” Alain then carried Naciye’s body on his back and left the house with Rommel behind him carrying Makbule’s.
“Why don’t you weep for them?” Rommel said behind Alain.
“One weep because he wants others to pity him. I know that it’s useless for me to ask for pity. Therefore I do not weep.” Alain said without turning his back.
Rommel and Alain then arrived at a church and entered its backyard. The church was empty and the two enter with ease.
“I know that I’ve ask to much out of you to carry Makbule here with me. However, can you just that do me a last favour?” Alain then handed Rommel a shovel, which Rommel silently took from Alain’s hand. The two men then began digging.
“Can you now tell me what all this is about now?”
“Yes, certainly, Major Rommel. Where should we start? From the beginning, I guess.” Alain gave Rommel one of his sad smiles again.
“I was a disobedient child when I was young, and had fights with my father almost all the time. We had our biggest fight when I refused to take over my father’s business, and I left home as the result of the fight. I did not have much skills, and did all sorts of odd jobs until I joined the Legion, perhaps in hope of some adventure. What I did not expect was that my father was extremely depressed after I left, and one day when he was drunk a horse carriage overran him and fractured his skull, killing him almost instantly. ” Alain then paused for a moment before continuing.
“At that time I did not return even after I know of my father’s death, and my mother raised all my siblings by herself. Perhaps she just pushed herself too much, and it was not long before she became seriously ill. My mother then died, only a couple of years after my father left us. Mustafa, the eldest of my siblings, was only a boy then, and I just couldn’t leave my family behind for the second time.”
“Then I made perhaps one of the greatest mistake of my life. I chose to come back to take care of my siblings, and that meant that I became a deserter of the Legion.”
“A deserter … ?”
“Yes, a deserter. At first I thought they won’t care for a someone with no money like me, but I was wrong. The Legionnaires sent to get me burnt my old family house, and I moved my family several times to avoid the pursuers. I was finally caught here in Athens and thought that was the end. However, I was given a choice.”
“A choice?”
“Yes, a difficult choice if you want to say. I have the choice to die with my family or die myself and let my family live.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Nothing more than what I just said. General Mercier appeared at that time and gave me a choice. My family and I could either die a horrendous death together, or I could do the General a final service before I die and let my siblings live. The service is to let you believe that the Greeks are up to something and let you do the killings to get all the hatred going among them, while I prepare the bombs for the one incident that will spark a chain reaction. When I was a Legionnaire, I did not see much combat, but was a specialist in making explosives. The bombs tonight were of the highest explosive power per unit weight, complete with multiple barrels of petro to get the fire all over the place.” Alain then stopped digging as a sizable grave had been dugged.
“A tragic story we have here don’t you think, Major Rommel?”
After a long silence, Rommel finally spoke. “What are you planning to do now?”
“I’ll have to execute the last phase of this messy matter once and for all, Major Rommel.” With his tired eyes, Alain smiled sadly again at Rommel. He then placed his two sisters into their individual graves, and started to fill in the soil.
A public square of Athens, a few days later,
“Hang him, hang him!!” (Greek)
A large mass of people had gathered at a public square. In the middle of the square was a sinister looking gallows. A bloody half naked man was brought up to the gallows, his body fresh with signs of torture. As soon as he appeared, the crowd began to bombard his body with everything ranging from eggs to pebbles.
A Gallows
“Hang him, hang him!!” (Greek) The crowd chanted wildly beneath the gallows.
The half naked man was unmistakenly Alain, although his face was seriously disfigured with cuts and bruises. Two brutes hung a thick metal wire around his neck and placed Alain in a position for the fall to death.
Rommel thought about their last conversation. “What last phase?” asked Rommel.
“What I’ll have to do is to inform the Greek authorities that I did all this and take all responsibilities for all the killings” said Alain. “I’ll show them all they want, the plans for the murders, the equipment I used to make the explosives, the planning of the bombing locations … all they will ever want. They will arrest, and torture me of course before executing me. Furthermore, the Greek nationalists, the people that we had been killing all these times, will certainly seize the chance of using this incident as an excuse to drive the Turks out of Greece and perhaps Europe all together with the support of the Tsar, and certainly with the Republic under General Mercier. My country, the Empire, will probably be carved up by the Great Powers and become a semi-colony. General Mercier had been plotting this all along, and I know about this long before too. You know, the Greeks had been doing nothing all the time. It was us who made the first strike, killing them night after night. They must be filled with rage now as their whole city is now burning, and will be more so when they learned that a Turk did it. I estimate that the bombing tonight must have killed at least ten thousand people, not to mention all the people who were injured and homeless. Ten thousand souls will accompany me to my death, guess it’s not too bad right?” Alain then squeezed a sad smile onto his face.
“Then why did you have to kill your sisters too?”
“Mustafa certainly could not take care of them, and he will have to live for us all. My sisters will have to stay here, where they will probably die in a similar horrendous death as the thousands of Turks in the city will have in the hands of the Greeks. You can take it this way: better do it yourself than let others do it.” Alain said sadly to Rommel, avoiding Rommel’s eyes.
The wooden board beneath Alain opened as expected, and the fall did not break Alain’s neck. Alain then began to struggle and kicked his legs as his life was gradually squeezed out of him.
Suddenly, two man climbed onto the gallows. One of the men carried a big tank of what seemed to be boiling pig fat and drenched Alain with it. The other man carried a torch and set Alain on fire.
“Burn, Burn! Burn like a pig!!” (Greek) The man yelled and taunted Alain as the whole crowd began to scream wildly. Alain writhed in pain as the flames engulfed him and turned him into a blazing fireball.
Suddenly, the sky began to rain unusually heavy. The crowd then dispersed, leaving the gallows empty. Alain’s body was still hung on by the metal wire around his neck.
Rommel then thought about Alain’s last words. “There is one last message General Mercier wanted me to pass on to you." Alain then pass a small paper slip to Rommel. “Although this may be too much to ask for you, I hope that you can find yourself a better life, Major Rommel. Please just don’t live a life like mine.”
“I do not weep because I don't expect mercy from anyone, but at least I can smile.” Alain then smiled sadly for the last time at Rommel and gave Rommel a soldierly salute before he left Rommel.
Rommel took the paper slit from his pocket and opened it up. The paper had a short typed message on it.
“You have seen the death of many people in your life, however they were people you don’t know. Perhaps the death of people you know will make you a better Legionnaire.”
“I’m sorry Alain, I’m really sorry.” Rommel said quietly as he looked at Alain’s charred body, and crumbled up the paper slit in his fist. The rain quenched the remaining flames on Alain, and nothing was left of him but black charcoal.
“It’s all because of you, right?” (Turkish)
Rommel turned aside and found a youth staring with hatred at him. The youth was Alain’s brother Mustafa. Mustafa in his school uniform was drenched with rainwater, but his face seemed to be burning with rage.
“I shall be back, I swear, and change all this. All this injustice!” Mustafa then turned and ran away.
After seeing Mustafa’s disappear from his sight, Rommel too left the square. Something trickled down his cheek, but it was not known whether it was tears or just the cold raindrops that chilled Rommel down to his heart.
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Poor Alain. I wonder what Mustafa will have in the future for Major Rommel.
I have been reading your AAR for a while now and have finally caught up, and I must say great work, my friend. I just love the way Rommel has been portrayed in this.
Very Good so far, and loving every bit of it. Keep up the great work!
I have been reading your AAR for a while now and have finally caught up, and I must say great work, my friend. I just love the way Rommel has been portrayed in this.
Very Good so far, and loving every bit of it. Keep up the great work!
TheVenetian said:
Well, remember that Mustafa Kemal will become the famed Ataturk. What he will do will certainly be something I'll be writing.
But I'll have to first think up the plot for that. Perhaps Mustafa will have no more interaction with the Rommel we have now, but with Rommel's son.
Enewald said:Hmm, but whatfor did Alain do all this?
Cash is not a good answer....
Thanks for asking this question. There was just too much things I wanted to write on that update so that some of the contents may be a bit confusing. I did a bit more editing, so if there is anything that seems unclear please point it out to me. I appreciate the help.
Here's a bit of a summary:
In all, Alain is a deserter of the Legion, and the Legion punishes any deserter with death of the deserter and any relatives that can be found. Alain as a explosive specialist is chosen by Mercier to execute the bombing, therefore Mercier offered Alain that his siblings can be spared for doing the General a service. Alain obviously chose to let his family live rather than let them die together with him and obediently followed Mercier's every instruction. Mercier had planned to use Rommel for the multiple killings among the Greek Nationalists in order to make the Greeks burning with rage, then let Alain do the bombing and present Alain the Turk as the one who did all the killing. Since the Tsar is present at the time of the bombing, it will be highly publicized internationally, not to mention to a smaller extend it might be taken as a Turkish attempt to murder the Tsar. The Greeks will be determined to destroy the Turks, and the Great Powers of Russia and the Republic will support their cause. Perhaps Germany and Britain will also be happy to carve up the Ottoman Empire? Will the Empire be doomed? We will see more about that.
But BTW for the next update the setting will be in Glouceshire, England. I'll be dealing with some well known British people as I write.
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Ok, here's the update. Special thanks to BritishImperial for helping me with this update and providing me a picture.
I should just do this once more time. This AAR deals with a lot of mature subject. Blood and gore are more than just common. If you think you're uncomfortable with what I write, please stop reading. This is just to warn people of contents that may be undesirable by some readers.
Alright, the update begins!
Alright, this is the end of the current chapter. Perhaps for the next update I'll shift the time forward more. But the time for the next update is not certain yet due to incoming FINALS. I'll post info on the when the next update will come soon.
I should just do this once more time. This AAR deals with a lot of mature subject. Blood and gore are more than just common. If you think you're uncomfortable with what I write, please stop reading. This is just to warn people of contents that may be undesirable by some readers.
Alright, the update begins!
.........
Gloucester, Great Britain, late May, 1897
It was late in the night, and the cobblestone was lit only by the dim lights of the street lamps. Nothing was present in the street except for two figures.
“Watson, be quick. We don’t want the Professor to get away.”
“Shouldn’t we wait for a better time? There’s only the two of us here now.”
“There are some news that show the Professor may have some business to be doing with the French. We have to take some action before the French got to involved with the Professor.”
The two men arrived at the docks. Multiple warehouses were present alined in a neat fashion. However, the two men ventured into an area that seemed to be unused for some time. The pair stopped before a warehouse that seemed to be deserted for at least a decade.
The Gloucester Docks
“Watson, ready your revolver. We might have some unexpected troubles in here.”
“I’m ready when you’re, Holmes.”
The two entered the warehouse, revolvers drawn. However, the interior of the warehouse seemed to be to quiet. There seemed to be a heavy smell inside… the smell of blood.
“Help… help me.” A sound croaked in the darkness.
Holmes and Watson rushed to the source of the voice. It was a man, but his right arm was completely torn off. Blood spewed out of the large opening.
“Help… help…” the man said in a weak voice, his face white as chalk. He reached out his left hand at Holmes and Watson, but the hand dropped down almost immediately after it was raised. The man had died of blood loss.
Holmes and Watson looked around the warehouse. More bodies were lying around. The men had been brutally killed, either dying from missing limbs or large gashes made to the torso.
“What is all this …” Watson said under his breath. Then his foot kicked something on the floor. Under some of the moonlight shining through the windows, Watson found that it was a head. A head with its eyes fixed in a dead stare.
“Holmes! We must leave now. We must first contact the police!” Watson almost yelled at Holmes.
“Wait. There seemed to be someone over there.” Holmes said quietly.
Coming from the second floor, some candle light indicated that there might be someone present. Holmes without hesistation climbed the stairs upwards, and Watson followed reluctantly.
Up on the second floor the surroundings were much brighter. A lot of things were scattered on the floor, mostly what seemed to be neat paperwork of someone. Holmes after looking around spotted someone seating before an officetable. The man was seating with his back facing Holmes. However Holmes immediately recognized who the man was.
“Professor Moriarty, do you have anything to do with what happened downstaris?”
Suddenly without his body moving, the Professor’s head turned one hundred and eighty degrees backward and faced Holmes. Blood was trickling down the old man’s eyes, ears, nostrils, and mouth. A voice that was obviously faked then came from where the Professor was.
“No, Mr. Holmes” the voice said cheerfully. “Can’t you see that I already came out a-head? Hahahahahahaha!”
The Professor’s head was then send flying to Holmes, which Holmes ducked by stepping aside. The Professor’s blood spewed onto Holmes’ coat before the head rolled to the side. A man dressed in black then appeared behind the headless body of the Professor.
“Bonne nuit. Monsieur Holmes. I believe this is the first time we met.” The man lifted the hat hiding half of his face, showing the eyes of a coyote as he spoke.
“Pleased to meet you. I’m Jack, but perhaps the name Jack the Ripper is more familiar to you?”
“Jack… the Ripper?” A bit stunned, Holmes staggered back a little. “You’re the one who commited those murders nine years ago in Whitechapel …”
“Yes, yes. People only remembered me for that. However, those murders were only the works of an amateur. I’ve improved greatly since then.”
Jack then tooked out a bag and threwed it in front of Holmes. The bag was full of heads, shruken heads preserved by chemicals.
“You see I’ve been working with the French government lately. I had a most wonderful employer who was the commander of the French Foreign Legions. He allowed me great freedom for what I do, and my recent operations in Siam yielded quite a lot of things worth collecting.” Jack then smiled and said, “Take the bag if you please, they’re only a small part of my collection.”
Holmes stared at the bag full of heads. Then feeling disgusted, said, “What did you have to do with the Professor?”
“Oh, well, my employer wished to set up some intelligence ring in Britain, so I decided to first do a favour for my employer by taking over the Professor’s criminal ring and use it as a base for further operations. The Professor certainly was someone who lived up to be the “Napoleon of Crime”. It was pretty hard to locate him, and he had a lot of men guarding him. However, the Professor certainly did not know that the quality of his men is important too. Don’t you agree, Colonel Moran?”
From behind Jack came out a naked man on all fours. He had a leash on held by Jack.
“Yes … yes … master… ” the Colonel said weakly while panting like a dog, and seemed to be trying his best to please Jack.
“No, you idiot! You’re a dog. It should be “arf”, “arf”, “arf”! Hahahahaha!” Jack then kicked the Colonel’s groin and the Colonel yelped in pain.
“Well, well” said Jack, after calmly himself down. “Dogs these days are certainly hard to train, isn’t it, Monsieur Holmes?” After saying his words, Jack tooked out a surgical knife and stabbed the Colonel on the throat. The Colonel let out a loud cry of pain and died after spewing out large quantities of blood.
“Holmes, I heard some voices, what just happ…” Watson suddenly came to where Holmes and Jack were and noticed the smell of death that was strongly present. He instantly became silent.
“Oh, you must be Dr. Watson. Please to meet you. Just call me Jack if you please.” Jack said amusingly to Watson.
“Holmes, what …” said Watson staggering and paused for a moment. “Who is this Jack?” he finally said.
“Do you have anything to do with me?” Holmes completely ignored Watson and focused himself at Jack. “It appears that you’ve been waiting here for me for some time.”
“Yes, yes. I have heard a lot about you before, Monsieur Holmes. The detective that can solve every unsolvable case. It appears that the Professor was your nemesis, and I was thinking perhaps you might show up when I sliced through the Professor’s neck inch by inch. Don’t worry, I did have some entertainment while training my dog while awaiting you to come, Monsieur Holmes. Hahahahaha!” Jack then let out a loud laugh.
“Why, you …” Holmes then pointed his revolver at Jack.
“I wouldn’t have done that if I were you, Monsieur Holmes.” Jack said calmly, his eyes suddenly turned serious. Jack then pointed to Holmes’ back.
Just as Holmes and Watson turned their backs, A burly brute grabbed the two of them by the neck and lifted the two from the ground. Watson dropped his gun as the giant pair of hands gradually suffocated the two of them.
“Meet Brutus, my trusty servant” said Jack. “It was not wise of you to enrage him, Monsieur Holmes.”
“Why… damn you!” Holmes then fired two shots from his revolver at Brutus’ face at point blank range. The bullets got deflected by the steel mask Brutus was wearing, but knock off the lower half of the mask, revealing the void that existed. Both Holmes and Watson saw that Brutus was missing his lower jaws.
“Oh, most unwise of you, monsieur Holmes!” remarked Jack. Then Brutus flung both Holmes and Watson onto a pillar. Watson was knocked out almost immediately, while Holmes felt his consciousness leaving him quickly.
“I hope we’ll meet again in the future, Monsieur Holmes.” Jack then took off the covering of a large pile of stockpiled things, revealing barrels of petro underneath. “Don’t sleep here. You might catch a cold. Here, let me light a fire to warm you.” Jack then used a match to light up a fuse.
“Hope this will warm you up. Hahahahahaha!” Jack said laughing and left. Brutus picked up the lower part of his two piece mask and eyed Holmes with his blood red eyes before leaving behind Jack.
“Damn … damn it” said Holmes, before closing his eyes. The fuse seemed to ever closer to the barrels of petro.
It was late in the night, and the cobblestone was lit only by the dim lights of the street lamps. Nothing was present in the street except for two figures.
“Watson, be quick. We don’t want the Professor to get away.”
“Shouldn’t we wait for a better time? There’s only the two of us here now.”
“There are some news that show the Professor may have some business to be doing with the French. We have to take some action before the French got to involved with the Professor.”
The two men arrived at the docks. Multiple warehouses were present alined in a neat fashion. However, the two men ventured into an area that seemed to be unused for some time. The pair stopped before a warehouse that seemed to be deserted for at least a decade.
The Gloucester Docks
“Watson, ready your revolver. We might have some unexpected troubles in here.”
“I’m ready when you’re, Holmes.”
The two entered the warehouse, revolvers drawn. However, the interior of the warehouse seemed to be to quiet. There seemed to be a heavy smell inside… the smell of blood.
“Help… help me.” A sound croaked in the darkness.
Holmes and Watson rushed to the source of the voice. It was a man, but his right arm was completely torn off. Blood spewed out of the large opening.
“Help… help…” the man said in a weak voice, his face white as chalk. He reached out his left hand at Holmes and Watson, but the hand dropped down almost immediately after it was raised. The man had died of blood loss.
Holmes and Watson looked around the warehouse. More bodies were lying around. The men had been brutally killed, either dying from missing limbs or large gashes made to the torso.
“What is all this …” Watson said under his breath. Then his foot kicked something on the floor. Under some of the moonlight shining through the windows, Watson found that it was a head. A head with its eyes fixed in a dead stare.
“Holmes! We must leave now. We must first contact the police!” Watson almost yelled at Holmes.
“Wait. There seemed to be someone over there.” Holmes said quietly.
Coming from the second floor, some candle light indicated that there might be someone present. Holmes without hesistation climbed the stairs upwards, and Watson followed reluctantly.
Up on the second floor the surroundings were much brighter. A lot of things were scattered on the floor, mostly what seemed to be neat paperwork of someone. Holmes after looking around spotted someone seating before an officetable. The man was seating with his back facing Holmes. However Holmes immediately recognized who the man was.
“Professor Moriarty, do you have anything to do with what happened downstaris?”
Suddenly without his body moving, the Professor’s head turned one hundred and eighty degrees backward and faced Holmes. Blood was trickling down the old man’s eyes, ears, nostrils, and mouth. A voice that was obviously faked then came from where the Professor was.
“No, Mr. Holmes” the voice said cheerfully. “Can’t you see that I already came out a-head? Hahahahahahaha!”
The Professor’s head was then send flying to Holmes, which Holmes ducked by stepping aside. The Professor’s blood spewed onto Holmes’ coat before the head rolled to the side. A man dressed in black then appeared behind the headless body of the Professor.
“Bonne nuit. Monsieur Holmes. I believe this is the first time we met.” The man lifted the hat hiding half of his face, showing the eyes of a coyote as he spoke.
“Pleased to meet you. I’m Jack, but perhaps the name Jack the Ripper is more familiar to you?”
“Jack… the Ripper?” A bit stunned, Holmes staggered back a little. “You’re the one who commited those murders nine years ago in Whitechapel …”
“Yes, yes. People only remembered me for that. However, those murders were only the works of an amateur. I’ve improved greatly since then.”
Jack then tooked out a bag and threwed it in front of Holmes. The bag was full of heads, shruken heads preserved by chemicals.
“You see I’ve been working with the French government lately. I had a most wonderful employer who was the commander of the French Foreign Legions. He allowed me great freedom for what I do, and my recent operations in Siam yielded quite a lot of things worth collecting.” Jack then smiled and said, “Take the bag if you please, they’re only a small part of my collection.”
Holmes stared at the bag full of heads. Then feeling disgusted, said, “What did you have to do with the Professor?”
“Oh, well, my employer wished to set up some intelligence ring in Britain, so I decided to first do a favour for my employer by taking over the Professor’s criminal ring and use it as a base for further operations. The Professor certainly was someone who lived up to be the “Napoleon of Crime”. It was pretty hard to locate him, and he had a lot of men guarding him. However, the Professor certainly did not know that the quality of his men is important too. Don’t you agree, Colonel Moran?”
From behind Jack came out a naked man on all fours. He had a leash on held by Jack.
“Yes … yes … master… ” the Colonel said weakly while panting like a dog, and seemed to be trying his best to please Jack.
“No, you idiot! You’re a dog. It should be “arf”, “arf”, “arf”! Hahahahaha!” Jack then kicked the Colonel’s groin and the Colonel yelped in pain.
“Well, well” said Jack, after calmly himself down. “Dogs these days are certainly hard to train, isn’t it, Monsieur Holmes?” After saying his words, Jack tooked out a surgical knife and stabbed the Colonel on the throat. The Colonel let out a loud cry of pain and died after spewing out large quantities of blood.
“Holmes, I heard some voices, what just happ…” Watson suddenly came to where Holmes and Jack were and noticed the smell of death that was strongly present. He instantly became silent.
“Oh, you must be Dr. Watson. Please to meet you. Just call me Jack if you please.” Jack said amusingly to Watson.
“Holmes, what …” said Watson staggering and paused for a moment. “Who is this Jack?” he finally said.
“Do you have anything to do with me?” Holmes completely ignored Watson and focused himself at Jack. “It appears that you’ve been waiting here for me for some time.”
“Yes, yes. I have heard a lot about you before, Monsieur Holmes. The detective that can solve every unsolvable case. It appears that the Professor was your nemesis, and I was thinking perhaps you might show up when I sliced through the Professor’s neck inch by inch. Don’t worry, I did have some entertainment while training my dog while awaiting you to come, Monsieur Holmes. Hahahahaha!” Jack then let out a loud laugh.
“Why, you …” Holmes then pointed his revolver at Jack.
“I wouldn’t have done that if I were you, Monsieur Holmes.” Jack said calmly, his eyes suddenly turned serious. Jack then pointed to Holmes’ back.
Just as Holmes and Watson turned their backs, A burly brute grabbed the two of them by the neck and lifted the two from the ground. Watson dropped his gun as the giant pair of hands gradually suffocated the two of them.
“Meet Brutus, my trusty servant” said Jack. “It was not wise of you to enrage him, Monsieur Holmes.”
“Why… damn you!” Holmes then fired two shots from his revolver at Brutus’ face at point blank range. The bullets got deflected by the steel mask Brutus was wearing, but knock off the lower half of the mask, revealing the void that existed. Both Holmes and Watson saw that Brutus was missing his lower jaws.
“Oh, most unwise of you, monsieur Holmes!” remarked Jack. Then Brutus flung both Holmes and Watson onto a pillar. Watson was knocked out almost immediately, while Holmes felt his consciousness leaving him quickly.
“I hope we’ll meet again in the future, Monsieur Holmes.” Jack then took off the covering of a large pile of stockpiled things, revealing barrels of petro underneath. “Don’t sleep here. You might catch a cold. Here, let me light a fire to warm you.” Jack then used a match to light up a fuse.
“Hope this will warm you up. Hahahahahaha!” Jack said laughing and left. Brutus picked up the lower part of his two piece mask and eyed Holmes with his blood red eyes before leaving behind Jack.
“Damn … damn it” said Holmes, before closing his eyes. The fuse seemed to ever closer to the barrels of petro.
.........
Alright, this is the end of the current chapter. Perhaps for the next update I'll shift the time forward more. But the time for the next update is not certain yet due to incoming FINALS. I'll post info on the when the next update will come soon.
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Holmes is in bad troubles.
Oh, so he was a deserter.
Now it is visible that Mercier truly is Evil.
Oh, so he was a deserter.
Now it is visible that Mercier truly is Evil.
1897...
Harry Faversham hasn't departed yet to the Sudan, has he?
Well, let's be practical... Holmes, hurry up, get up, take Watson and get out the hell out of there. The smell of burned skin is not going to please you. Specially it is YOUR own skin!
Harry Faversham hasn't departed yet to the Sudan, has he?
Well, let's be practical... Holmes, hurry up, get up, take Watson and get out the hell out of there. The smell of burned skin is not going to please you. Specially it is YOUR own skin!
Alright folks, the next update will come Wednesday or the latest Saturday. Then I'll be studying for my FINALS and will be gone for quite a long time, perhaps two to three weeks. (Damn those finals) I can first say for now that for the next update the time and location will be 1898 in Cuba, but I might still change my mind about that.
Oh, and one more thing. I see that except for some loyal readers I have (thank you all who have been replying and giving suggestions), people are not replying. I know this is a bad way to look at things, but I think that if you're not replying then you're implying that you're unsatisfied with my work, which may be the truth I guess, but seriously this is a blow to my morale, and it's not helping me to improve.
Take it like this, my morale level has a base of 25%. For each reply my morale can only be raised by 5%. This means that I'm constantly working on my updates in really really low morale. Come on folks, leave some replies. Feel free to criticize, I'll even appreciate your criticism. Don't protest in silence. If I don't get more replies perhaps I'll have to resort to more drastic actions.
Oh, and one more thing. I see that except for some loyal readers I have (thank you all who have been replying and giving suggestions), people are not replying. I know this is a bad way to look at things, but I think that if you're not replying then you're implying that you're unsatisfied with my work, which may be the truth I guess, but seriously this is a blow to my morale, and it's not helping me to improve.
Take it like this, my morale level has a base of 25%. For each reply my morale can only be raised by 5%. This means that I'm constantly working on my updates in really really low morale. Come on folks, leave some replies. Feel free to criticize, I'll even appreciate your criticism. Don't protest in silence. If I don't get more replies perhaps I'll have to resort to more drastic actions.
sorry, i dont always reply because i cant think of anything interesting to say but i've been reading and thoroughly enjoying every single word. so thats a little morale boost hopefully.
An interesting update I may say, rather startling and cunning. Oh Holmes and Watson just don't get it, it is simply a matter of elementary.
I can only wonder what will be in store next for Holmes and Watson.
I can only wonder what will be in store next for Holmes and Watson.
BritishImperial said:
Yes, that's it! I'm not expecting anything interesting, but just some honest comments. Personally I take things like this: when I post update it's like doing somesort of a storytelling to a crowd. If the crowd remains silent all the time (which means not replying), then the storyteller (me) loses confidence.
If people are troubled by trying something interesting to say, perhaps I'll include some questions I want to ask for people to answer in the end of each of my updates. Does this sounds good?
Oh, yeah. I should apologize for my last post. I was a bit emotional because the number of replies are getting ... getting ... getting ... ahhh nevermind.
TheEnlighted1 said:
Hmmm... I don't exactly get what does this line mean. Are you suggesting that I didn't portrait Holmes and Watson well enough?
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