For the start, I'd like to clear up that English isn't my first language, so I apologize for my mistakes. I am currently looking for beta reader, who would check my writings before I post them there, but at this moment I can rely only on dictionary and my judgement.

Reviews are always appreciated.

The city was lost in the mist made of smoke, fog and promise of oncoming cold.
Life was slowly disappearing from main road, moving and shifting to dim alleyways, places of questionable business and houses with low reputation.
Nobody had seen a shadow which was moving quickly in a small alley between houses to continue his way further from street lamps. His silhouette was less and less noticeable and then it vanished completely in darkness.
He was moving away from main streets and gravel started to grit under his feet. Soon, decorative iron gates disappeared, replaced by crudely made wooden fences. Many buildings seemed to be deserted. He slipped through a crack in the fence. The place where he was standing could have been called square if only houses standing there wouldn't have been missing roofs, doors or glass in their windows. Hidden in the shadows of the ruins he tried to avoid stepping into light which was emitted by a lantern hanging from the only house which seemed to avoid surrounding destruction. The reason why wasn't hard to guess when a scantily clad women staggered through the heavy door out on the street, trying to figure out how to put on her coat.
He didn't pay any attention to her and followed a narrow path through a labyrinth of dark alleyways. The scenery was changing around him – gravel was replaced by dusty road and then by old stone paving, ruins were replaced by small shelters among the debris and then later by small yet well-maintained houses. He even passed by some street lamps.
He was walking faster as he was getting closer to his destination. He went around the corner to a road surrounded by older houses. His thin lips formed a little smile, when he saw the light coming through the shop window of former bakery. He couldn't help it – he felt happy. His life's work had finally started to bear fruit after all his hardship and austerities. In his coat's lining in a hidden pocket he had a letter which promised him a chance to publish his research and present his findings to all the important people. It could open him the door to high society, to the places he couldn't even dream about before and...

Sudden cold prevented him for breathing for a second. The sight was bound to stay in his memory forever. Through the dirty window of former bakery (at that time his laboratory) he saw a young dark-haired boy, whom he hired to help him with his research, standing by his chemical equipment, holding Florence flask filled with his invention. He was showing it to fat rich-looking man.
Traitor! He was furious. He tried to open the door but it was locked.
And then everything happened so fast. The boy spotted him and dropped the flask in shock. The flask broke and both boy and the fat man started to scream and shake uncontrollably. The boy tried to get to the door but he just knocked over more equipment, more liquid leaked on the floor. Then he was attacked by the fat man who was trying to claw his eyes out. There was absolute horror in their eyes. From pools of greenish liquid yellow gas started to rise, filling the entire room.
On the other side of glass his icy blue eyes watched them, desperate, hopeless, unable to help. He curled his hands into fists and his lips formed a mute cry. He could hear them scream, but he know there is no hope for them. If it was just the flask, then maybe...

He fell to his knees. Tears were running down his cheeks, first time after long years. He had lost everything. All those years of hard work just crushed and crumbled like house of cards. His invention caused death of two people an he couldn't force himself to feel guilty or particularly bad about it. The boy knew how dangerous the chemical was and he had still tried to sell it behind his back... They destroyed everything he cared for, his life's work. What will he do?

Elderly woman set down a silver tray with a teapot and a single cup on small cabinet and knocked. When she heard an answer, she picked up the tray and entered a room. Cold grey light was falling through a big window into the room, winter was near. She stepped to a big armchair and set the tray on the small table next to it. Then she poured tea into the cup and mixed it with milk.

"This will keep you warm sir," she said quietly.
Pair of small took the cup from her. "Thank you Margaret..."

"So, what was England like sir?" she asked.
He sighted. "Still the same. I don't know what to do..."

She was thinking for a moment, deciding if she should say what she thought. "Sir, you are alone since that... accident. Wouldn't you be happier with someone of your kind? Someone you could talk to?"
"I am not sure," he answered. "I can as well talk with you," he tried to smile, but she knew him too well. She knew he was worried and lonely. She would never tell him, but she had been worrying about him.
"I was thinking about someone like you, sir. Someone with whom you could discuss literature, play chess or work on your writings..."
He didn't answer, but she could see that look in his blue eyes. She knew him too well to know that he was thinking about what she had said, but he would never admit it.
"I will leave you alone now. You need to rest after the journey," she said and left the room.