A ship, dark and menacing, approached the harbor. It rolled in with the fog, a sense of foreboding trailing the waves left in its wake. A figure stood at the bow of the ship, breathing in the gloomy London air, a wide smile on his face. The lad, Erik Henderson, had his long brown hair tied back into a ponytail, wore a well-worn dress shirt, and pants that had obviously never seen the inside of a tailors shop for some time.

"I've sailed the world, beheld all the wonders it has to offer… But there is no place as beautiful as London." he said in awe, eyes flitting over the outline of the great city.

"I've seen the Dardanelles, the Peruvian mountains," He let out an incredulous laugh, "but there is-"

"No place like London." Erik looked over at his recent companion, a blonde-haired man, with skin so pale it almost glowed. His lavender eye stared the city down as if to erase it with nothing but his smoldering hatred.

"Mr. Thomassen?" he asked timidly, not wanting to upset him any more than he already obviously was.

"There's a hole in the world like a great black pit

and the vermin of the world inhabit it

and its morals aren't worth what a pig could spit

and it goes by the name of London"

The man didn't seem hear him, still staring aimlessly at the city's shore, instead listening to an ill tune that only he could hear.

"At the top of the hole sits a privileged few

making mock of the vermin in the lower zoo

turning beauty into filth and greed-"

He blinked, coming back to the grim world around him. The pale man swallowed, his mouth dry. "I haven't traveled the world as you have, but I am sure the cruelty of man is just as wondrous as Peru." He turned on a heel, returning to the lower deck of the ship.

He muttered as he strode, "And you will find cruelty like no other on those streets."

Niels Thomassen marched off the ship, eyes scanning the streets of what once was his happy home. He stopped, staring down a cramped, dark alleyway. His lips shifted, murmuring something to himself. Erik quickened his pace to catch up to the troubled man.

"Mr. Thomassen, are you alright?" Henderson inquired, words brimming in concern. Niels blinked and turned to him.

"I'm sorry. Horrid memories are tied to this town… Seeing it has only brought them up."

"What memories, if I may ask?"

He was deathly silent for so long, Erik thought he hadn't heard him before he replied, saying softly, "There was once a barber who lived around these parts. Him and his younger brother. That was how it always was, and it never changed. Until one day, his business burned down. No one was injured, and they even managed to save some of their belongings… But they had nowhere to live. They slept on the streets for a few weeks, cold and hungry. All seemed hopeless. But then he appeared. An angel sent straight from heaven. He was tall, beautiful, kind, caring, lov-"

He paused, gathering himself. The last few words held a tone of endearment.

"He gave them a place to sleep. He fed them. He cared for them. The barber went back into business and they all lived as a happy family. Until a judge came forth, and was as enamored with the angel as the barber was. He sentenced the barber to a life in prison under a false charge, leaving the angel by himself, setting him up to fall… Setting up the most beautiful creature to fall…"

He trailed off. A single tear fell from Niels' eye, completely lost in joyful memories that became sour. Briskly, he swiped the drop away from his cheek. Erik shifted, wanting to hear the rest of the story. After a few more moments of silence, he awkwardly asked "Did he succumb, sir?"

Niels blinked, as if he had forgotten where he was. He gave a thin smile. "Oh, that was so long ago. I doubt anyone knows the end to that story anymore." Straightening up, the transparent grin fell from his face as he adjusted his black leather coat.

"I forgot to thank you, Erik. If it weren't for you, I'd still be in the middle of the ocean."

Erik beamed, a sense of pride washing over him. "It would be a poor Christian to spot you and just leave you out there!"

"Plenty a Christian would have left me without a second thought." He spat out with a light glower. Erik swallowed nervously and asked with a nervous stutter, "W-will I see you again, Mr. Thomassen?" Niels may be just plain eccentric, but he was the only person he knew well enough thus far, and he learned a long time ago that it was smart to have an ally to rely on when waters became rough.

"Oh, I'm sure you'll be able to find me." Niels turned to him, making eye contact for the first time since he found him. "Around fleet street, I wouldn't wonder."

Erik nodded, and stuck out his hand with a cheery, "Until next time!"

Glancing at his hand, Niels switched directions and left the sailor behind, leaving Erik to question his decision of having the downcast fellow as a friend.

"There's a hole in the world like a great black pit

and it's filled with people who are filled with shit

and the vermin of the world inhabit it…"

Niels turned a corner, and his face twisted in disgust as a tall man with long, matted, once-blonde hair, and layers of torn clothes that made him seem bulkier than usual, approached him.

"Alms, sir? 'Ave you any alms for a poor beggar?"

He sneered at the shabby borrower. "I have no money, and even if I did, I would not waste it on the likes of you."

The man stepped closer, more so than Niels was comfortable with, and breathed into his face. Niels almost gagged from the stench.

"I could make it worth your while…" he chuckled desperately, somehow finding amusement at the fact that he had just offered… The smaller man pushed the beggar away, wanting to get away from him post-haste. Niels cried out as the man grabbed his arm and tugged him so closely that their noses were almost touching, forcing him to look into those pale blue eyes. The stranger held him in the strong grip for a few seconds, just staring, before he tilted his head, eyebrows creasing.

"Don't I know you mis'er?"

Niels ripped his arm away and ran down the street, not stopping until he was out of breath. He slowed to a halt, leaning his weight against a wall. He did not want to run into him again. His words ran through his head. Of course they didn't know each other. Yet, the haggard rustler did ring a bell in his mind… Then again, every cursed building did that.

All thought halted as he saw the most familiar building in the city. Faded gold letters proudly proclaimed 'Mr. Vain's Famous Meat Pies' and in smaller letters: 'Best pies in the country'. A rotten stench from the shop threatened to disagree with that last statement, and perhaps even the name. Above it laid a boarded up window, hiding it from anyone who might have been curious about the inside, not that it stopped him from remembering everything about it. Every decoration, floorboard, crack in the wallpaper, every single thing. He pushed off the wall and strode towards the shop, determined to see his home once again.