-Prologue-

A Tragic Incident

It was a cloudy rain filled night in all of London. A thick mist lay heavily upon the empty streets, giving the appearance of a lake running through the heart of the city. There was no one to be seen and sirens rang through the evening air while everyone was in hiding.

A tragic incident had occurred a few hours ago, leaving the whole of London holding its breath; waiting. Most in fear of what may come to happen, had barricaded themselves in their homes, waiting to hear what little they could.

However, there was one who wished not to hear what was happening.

A young girl by the name of Alecia Phoenix was waiting at the London Police Department for the whole night. The tiredness was sweeping through her quickly every few minutes as she stood, making her dizzy.

All around, police were running back and forth in between desks, yelling at each other from across the room. Others were divided into groups, deep in conversation and transfixed with the many papers scattered before them. Though none bothered to tell Alecia what was happening. When every so often, she could make out whispers of words such as 'but how did this happen?' or 'not a trace…'

Suddenly, a door to Alecia's left flew open and a stout old man came bustling through. He was wearing an old patched brown suit, just big enough to contain his round belly. He was almost bald with grey hair on the sides of his head and his jacket bore a nametag with 'Mr. Jones' written in bold black letters.

'What is going on?' He roared, 'Why is it that we don't have a single lead?

Everyone stared at each other in hopes to provide an answer to the question Mr. Jones had solely needed. Though not one had the answer and just a moment before he was going to start demanding again, a young man stepped forward.

The man had a smug look on his face and seemed to have the answer that Mr. Jones was seeking, but when he spoke, it was to give a precaution.

'I believe we should continue this discussion in your office, for the girl's sake.' He looked round at Alecia with contempt in his eyes, as if it were merely a game.

'Very well, Mr. Witherly,' Mr. Jones called over his shoulder in exasperation as he opened the door that lead back into his office.

In seconds, both men had vanished as if swallowed whole by the door frame, leaving everyone gaping in silence and Alecia more distressed.

Hanging her head down low and allowing the beautiful curls of dark brown hair to cover her face, Alecia gave a loud sniff. She turned around and sat down on an old blue cloth chair and burrowed her face in her hands. Tears were streaming down the sides of Alecia's rosy cheeks and she was wondering what was going to happen.

After a few minutes, a woman with sleek black hair wearing a light grey suit and a golden badge bearing the name 'Detective Joyce' parted from her colleagues. She started towards Alecia, who looked up in time to see Detective Joyce stop midpoint, her face full of fear and sadness. It was as if she were regretting the decision to come and talk to this poor child. After all, Alecia was only a five year old girl and something like this was too much to handle for such a young child.

However Alecia knew her worst fears were about to come true and as she watched Joyce kneel down in front of her, Alecia's stomach wrenched in fear.

Her parents were dead.