Albus Dumbledore, needless to say, was livid when he finally escaped the infirmary and learned that Harry was no longer at Hogwarts. He immediately summoned McGonagall to his office where he proceeded to tear into her for allowing the boy to leave, but this time she stood her ground and fought back. They screamed at each other for the better part of three hours before the Deputy Headmistress left, vowing every retribution short of a blood feud if he didn't leave her cub alone. It wasn't until she left that Dumbledore noticed that the instruments he used to track Harry's location, health, and safety were all motionless. As he began cursing, his eyes fell on the empty, burnt perch that his phoenix Fawkes usually sat upon. The stress of losing his familiar, his weapon Harry Potter, his wand arm, and the Elder Wand itself was too much and triggered a small heart attack. He soon found himself right back in the infirmary under the care once more of an increasingly unsympathetic Poppy Pomfrey.
***DIM***
Just north of Cambridge and stretching around to the west and north sides of the square-shaped bay a hundred miles north of London called the Wash (the same bay Sirius Black had been carried into by the currents of the North Sea after his escape from Azkaban) lay a fifteen-hundred square mile system of low-lying wetlands and marshes called the Fens. Sparsely populated for the most part during much of Britain's history, with scattered villages and hamlets forming on some of the higher ground, drainage efforts in the 19th and 20th centuries resulted in much of the Fens becoming some of the most fertile farmland in all of Britain. The villages grew into towns, but most of the arable land was occupied by isolated farmsteads separated by a patchwork of thousands of fields growing wheat, barley, potatoes, sugar-beets, peas, decorative flowers, and more, all interlaced with rivers and channels.
Late one cloudy night along the Nene River, one of the four major rivers that fed the Wash, a dozen shadowy figures emerged from the waters and crept up the muddy bank. They crossed a narrow road that ran parallel to the waterway and approached a small farmhouse on the other side of a wooden fence. Even though the small town of Sutton Bridge was less than two miles away, with a few other farms in between, this farmhouse was still one of the more isolated ones. One figure who was larger than the others and seemed to be the leader spoke in a low voice that sounded more akin to a series of grunts and croaks than an actual language. Nonetheless, the group split in two and flanked the house; one group, including the speaker, approaching by the front walk through the hedge row and up to the front door; and the other crossing through the garden and taking up an ambush position by the back door.
The clouds broke up for a moment, allowing silver moonlight to bathe the Fens in its radiance. The figures were revealed to be grotesque, scaly humanoid creatures with odd, fishlike heads and protruding, never-blinking eyes. Each had a ridge much like the dorsal fin of a fish that started at the head and extended down the bulk of the tail. Each one carried a strange, spear-like weapon of some kind, some with a single jagged point but others with three, much like a trident.
The speaker went up to the front door and muttered a few words in its odd, croaking language. The doorknob glowed for a moment before the creature opened it and stepped inside, followed by the others. A few minutes later, a few scuffling noises and grunts could be heard from inside. It wasn't long before the creatures reappeared, bearing five limp figures. Three were noticeably smaller than the other two.
The two groups reassembled and retraced their steps back to the river, where they disappeared beneath the waters with barely a ripple.
It wasn't until the next day when a passing neighbour, noticing the front door still wide open, reported the entire Ferguson family missing, with bloodstains in each bedroom. The only clues were the strange, unidentifiable footprints on the riverbank nearby. The local constabulary was in an uproar as this was the third such disappearance in two weeks.
***DIM***
The three young magic-users were enjoying their time together at Grimmauld Place, despite its gloomy appearance and psychotic resident house elf. They were soon introduced to the screaming shrew known as Walburga Black, but after Sirius started the spell to summon fiendfyre she immediately, albeit sullenly, shut up. Horrified at the potential treatment of his beloved mistress's portrait, Kreacher, the Blacks' house elf, even shaped up a little and started cleaning the townhouse. Granted, he grumbled and complained the entire time he worked, but the overall quality of his work improved tremendously.
As they had promised to Professor McGonagall, the three teens continued with their studies. It turned out that Madam Andromeda Tonks was actually Sirius Black's cousin. Never believing that her favourite cousin could have ever betrayed the Potters, she was ecstatic to see him. They were soon joined by Remus Lupin, who reluctantly accepted one of the many rooms in the Black home. Between Sirius badgering him and the teens pleading that it would be more convenient for their studies if he were there, he was finally persuaded that none of them would consider it charity if he were to move in. As they were no longer in a formal educational setting, the adults all insisted that the teens address them familiarly. Sirius and Remus preferred their respective Marauder nicknames of Padfoot and Moony, while Andromeda invited them to call her Andy.
Andromeda and her husband Ted also had a daughter named Nymphadora who was several years older than the three teens. She was currently wrapping up her auror training and so wasn't able to meet them often during the week, but most weekends she would stop by and teach the teens some of the combat skills she'd learned in her training. She preferred going by her last name, as she wasn't that fond of her first name, but grudgingly tolerated them calling her Dora. She was also a metamorphmagus, a magic-user who had the natural capability of changing her appearance at will. She manifested her talent primarily through her hair, preferring wild colours and styles. Her hair was usually pink and cut in a punk-rock style. Coupled with her torn and faded jeans, leather jacket, and various t-shirts advertising different magical and mundane rock bands, the three younger teens found in her a kindred spirit and fun older sister.
They hadn't been out of Hogwarts a week before they decided to visit Freemason's Hall and see if they could find out anything regarding the Templar treasure. One afternoon they flooed to the Leaky Cauldron but went out the front door into nonmagical London rather than visit Diagon Alley. "This way," Hermione said as she turned right and started walking north on Charing Cross Road. "We'll take a right on Cranbourn, cross over to Long Acre, and keep going a few blocks. After we cross Drury Lane, Long Acre turns into Great Queen Street and the Hall is right there on the corner where Great Queen splits with Wild Street."
Harry nodded as he took her hand, but Luna was looking around at the busy London street in awe and almost missed them turning up the sidewalk. Sighing, Hermione reached back and took her blonde friend's arm. "Stay with us, Luna dear. We don't want to lose you out here."
Giving her best female friend a warm smile, Luna stood on her tiptoes and gave the bushy-haired girl a quick peck on the cheek. "Thank you, Hermione," she said. "It's so good to have friends like you and Harry!"
The trio made their way through the bustling throngs, passing small shops, pubs, and restaurants. None of the passers-by gave them a second look until they were midway to their destination. An unkempt man with long, tangled grey hair and a matted beard was sitting in the boarded-up doorway of an abandoned shop, a floppy green hat upside down on the sidewalk in front of him. The hat contained mostly coins but there were several pound notes in it as well. The man's threadbare coat was that same faded green as his hat and was cut in what looked like a military fashion. A patch over one breast pocket proclaimed US Army.
As the trio passed by, almost missing him completely, the man called out, "Harry Potter!"
Harry whipped his head around, instinctively placing himself between the stranger and the girls. "What do you want?" he said warily as the man rose to his feet.
Once on his feet, the man lifted his face. Harry took a step back as the girls both gasped in shock.
The man was obviously blind. Not whitened eyes or cataracts, but two gaping sockets where his eyes used to be. A horrific pattern of scarring across his face suggested that he had perhaps lost his sight from an old war injury.
"How…did you know?" a stunned Harry Potter asked.
"Doesn't matter," the man said with a strong American accent. "Only thing matters is, you're runnin outta time. Things are startin to move. Old things, from before mankind ever started. And if they're movin, you can bet your last dollar it won't be long til their masters will be too. You don't want that, believe me."
In spite of himself, Harry felt a shiver go up his spine. "What are you talking about?"
"You gotta stop the hunter, kid, and soon. The fabric of space and time, of reality itself, is unravellin. Evil from beyond the stars is comin. And when it gets here, it could destroy us all." He gave the nervous trio a lopsided smile and returned to his seat in the doorway. "Trust your seer, boy. She won't lead you astray. Neither of your girls will. Now get goin! You've got work to do."
"Who are you?"
"No one special. I'm just here to pass on the message. You won't be seein me again."
The shaken teens continued on their way, giving the old man a sideways look as they left, but he ignored them. Once out of sight, Luna faced the other two. "There was something off about that man," she said. "He was there, but at the same time he wasn't. And I couldn't see the slightest hint of an aura, either."
"Is that bad?" Harry wanted to know.
"Even nonmagicals have a bit of an aura, Harry. Even plants and animals have an aura. But this man didn't, and I have no idea what it could mean."
"It sounded like we need to hurry, though. To be honest, that's a piece of advice I don't mind taking at all. I'm just glad we don't have to worry so much about school anymore."
Putting the strange blind man to the back of their minds, the trio continued on to Freemason's Hall. The building soon came into view, its distinctive tower over the front entrance rising up over the rooftops of the surrounding buildings. While the building site had been used by the Masons since 1775, the current (and third) building was opened in 1933. Built in the classic Art Deco style, it was originally conceived as a memorial to the Freemasons who were killed in action during World War I. Now, in addition to the twenty-four temples, or meeting rooms, including the famous Grand Temple, the Hall contained the Library and Museum of Freemasonry, admin offices, workshops, board rooms, archives, and storage space for the property of the hundreds of Masonic lodges that met in the building.
All in all, it was an impressive sight, and the task before the three teens became all the more imposing for it.
They decided to join one of the free public tours of the building in order to get a better idea of the structure. Hermione had been here once before on a trip with her primary school, but this was the first time the other two had ever seen the magnificence of nonmagical architecture and interior design. Luna, of course, had lived all her life in the magical world, and Harry had never been given permission by the Dursleys to attend any of the school outings – and they certainly hadn't been willing to take him anywhere unless they absolutely had to.
Fortunately, the awe in which they looked around the majestic Grand Temple was mirrored on the faces of most of the rest of the tour group as well. It was a truly magnificent room, considered by many to be one of the most beautiful in all of London. The doors to the chamber alone were impressive in their own right. Made from solid bronze and weighing one and a quarter tonne apiece, each depicted four scenes in relief in what looked to be ancient Egyptian-style art. The bottom three on each door appeared to be various scenes representing aspects of architecture, while the top on each seemed to be some sort of Hebrew ceremony.
Inside the chamber, though, was absolutely breath-taking. Three golden thrones sat at the far end of the Temple on a dais covered with royal blue carpet, surrounded by several rows of golden-framed chairs with matching royal blue cushions, each adorned with the coat of arms of the United Grand Lodge of England. Behind them and down the sides of the Temple were more rows of comfortable theatre-style fold-down seats, all in royal blue. A golden pipe organ dominated the walls behind the thrones, and the recessed ceiling high overhead was decorated with a beautiful mosaic. Depicted at each corner of the mosaic were figures representing the four cardinal virtues – Prudence, Temperance, Fortitude, and Justice. In the dead centre of the ceiling, set against a stylized night sky, was a sixteen-pointed starburst.
After the tour, and after spending a few minutes in the Library and Museum, they left the Hall and stopped at a nearby café to discuss their next step.
"I don't think we can go inside and just duck into a washroom to disillusion ourselves," Hermione said. "I'm sure there are cameras up, not to mention it would be suspicious if three people disappeared in the washroom for a lengthy time."
"So we'll need to disillusion ourselves outside the Hall and sneak in," Harry said. "Can we stack a notice-me-not charm on top of the disillusionment?"
"I don't see why not," Hermione said.
"It's pretty crowded out here, though," Luna observed. "Is there someplace out of sight where we can cast our spells?"
"We can look around when we've finished our tea. I'm sure we can find a place."
After paying for their drinks, the trio left the café and strolled around the area in search for an ideal location. It wasn't long before they found a narrow alleyway branching off from Wild Street behind the Hall. Given the lack of pedestrians and an abundance of rubbish bins, not to mention all the backdoors to various shops, they assumed that this would be the best place to disappear from view without violating the Statute of Secrecy. They were briefly disconcerted as the ground shook for a few seconds, almost as if a large freight train passed by, but as the tremors dissipated after only seconds had passed with no further occurrence they gave it no more thought. As it was nearing dinner time, they decided to eat at a local pub.
"As long as we're here I'd like to try tonight," Harry said after they placed their order.
"Me too," Luna agreed. "If that man was correct we need to find the hunter as soon as possible, and the treasure will probably be critical in our endeavour. Grandmum would not have sent us after it, otherwise."
"I'd prefer to have a solid plan in place," Hermione said, "but I think you two are right. The sooner we find whatever it is, the better. And I was able to modify the arithmancy of the point-me spell." She quickly looked around to see if anyone was watching them. As they were tucked back in a dark corner booth, she decided that they were hidden well enough. She quickly whispered the modified incantation, and sure enough her wand spun around to point in the direction of Freemasons Hall.
"That'll certainly help," Harry said with a relieved tone as his girlfriend slipped her wand away.
"You just need to let Sirius know that we're okay and we'll be a little while longer," she said. "I'd recommend using the washroom. You can use that mirror he gave you in one of the stalls, and anyone that overhears will think you're using a mobile." Harry nodded and left the table while the girls chatted with each other while they waited for him to return.
Luna was having a grand time in nonmagical London with her two best friends. Never had she imagined so many people all together, all going about their own business, and wearing the most amazing styles of clothing! Likewise, the machines were simply unbelievable, the most impressive being the automobiles that roared up and down the streets, each with a different colour and shape from the one before. The sheer variety to every aspect of life was the most incredible thing she'd ever seen!
Hermione smiled at her enthusiastic best female friend. Luna was practically bouncing in her seat with excitement as she looked around enjoying her experience. She remembered that she was much the same way on her first foray into the magical world, back when Professor McGonagall took her and her parents into Diagon Alley for the first time five years ago. So much had changed since then, and she had to admit that the magical world had lost much of its initial wonder. The centuries-old backwards mindsets combined with the blood bigotry that ran rampant throughout the magical realm, from its places of business and commerce to its halls of learning to its very seat of government, had caused not a little disillusionment within her. After having to endure the ridicule and hexes from Draco Malfoy and his little ragtag band of sycophants, the scorn and derision of Severus Snape, who always protected the little shits in Slytherin no matter what they did, and the general lack of concern regarding the gross misconduct of the purebloods exhibited by the rest of the faculty of Hogwarts, including the headmaster himself, she was quite ready to join Harry in telling magical Britain to sod off.
Except for Luna. The quirky Ravenclaw had a fresh, wonder-filled outlook on life itself, regardless of whether it was magical or not. And she had to admit that the girl's enthusiasm was contagious, welcomingly so. Though it had only been a couple of short months, she felt closer to Luna than anyone else in the world besides Harry and her own parents. "I'm glad you came to talk to us," she suddenly said, taking her friend's hand in her own. "You've been an amazing friend, Luna."
The younger girl beamed. "Thank you, Hermione," she said. "It's been so nice to have real friends to talk with instead of just blibbering humdingers and nargles. Though they do make for entertaining conversation, it's just not the same."
Hermione smiled back. "You know that I want to spend the rest of my life with Harry," she went on. "I hope that will include being Mrs. Potter one day too. The thing is, I can't imagine a life without you being a part of it too, and I know Harry feels the same way. You've been a truer friend to us both than anyone else, including Ron."
"He has one of the worst wrackspurt infestations I've ever seen, other than Professor Snape. It's even worse than Draco Malfoy's."
"I'm not surprised," the bushy-haired brunette said ruefully. "I can't say that he's ever been a true friend to me, either. I'm convinced he only tolerated me because Harry liked me. I don't think he ever spoke a civil word to me unless he needed help with his homework."
"You mean he needed you to do it for him," Luna giggled.
Hermione laughed. "Exactly. You've never been jealous of me or Harry, you've done everything you could to help us when we needed it, and you're always trying to build us up instead of tear us down. That means a lot, Luna."
The other girl ducked her head, the tips of her ears turning pink. "You've both done so much for me too," she whispered. "The least I could do is stand by you."
"I've never had a sister… but I hope that if I did I'd love her as much as I love you," Hermione finished, squeezing her friend's hand.
Luna looked up, tears filling her eyes. "You really mean that?" she said, her voice barely audible.
"I really do." Her own eyes grew moist at the desperate hope she heard in the other girl's voice.
The blonde flung her arms around her older friend. "I love you too, Hermione. Sisters?"
"Sisters. Now and forever."
"Is everything okay?" Harry asked as he returned from the washroom. Both girls were a little teary-eyed, but they each gave him a watery smile.
"Better than ever, my love," Hermione told her boyfriend.
"Hermione just said that I was her sister!" Luna joyfully proclaimed as she reached out to take his hand. "I've always wanted a brother or a sister, but after Mummy died and Daddy started focusing entirely on the Quibbler I thought that would never happen."
He reached across and took Hermione's hand, completing the circle. "Well, I can be your brother too," he said, giving Luna a warm smile.
"Oh, brilliant!" There was no doubt Luna would have started clapping her hands in excitement had they not been held by her two best friends. As it was, she was bouncing in her seat again.
"Okay, so Sirius knows we'll be late?" Hermione asked, getting them back on task.
"Right. I didn't go into detail, of course. We'll tell him all about it after we find whatever it is we're looking for. He just told us to be careful or he'll prank the hell out of us for a month."
Their food and drinks arrived, and they enjoyed plates of fish and chips and shepherd's pie along with American sodas. It was Luna's first experience with Coca-Cola, and she couldn't say enough good things about the drink. "That is so much better than pumpkin juice!" she gushed.
"Luna dear," Hermione said with a teasing smile, "anything is better than pumpkin juice."
Harry quite agreed. He really didn't understand the wizarding world's obsession with the thick, orange beverage. It was especially disturbing because it looked just enough like regular orange juice, a drink he very much enjoyed, that it was possible to mistake it if one wasn't paying attention. The taste, though, was nothing alike, and if one was expecting orange juice the pumpkin flavour would come as quite the shock.
After paying for their meal, the trio made their way to the alley behind Freemasons' Hall. The late afternoon shadows were lengthening by this time, giving them sufficient cover to cast the spells needed. Earlier, when she was researching the various spells they might need, Hermione had figured out a way to tweak the arithmancy for the disillusionment, notice-me-not, and silencing spells in such a way that the three could still see and hear each other, but no one else would. Once silenced and invisible they left the alley and circled around to the Hall's main entrance.
It was shortly before 5:00 PM and the Hall was starting to close to the public, so there were still a few people coming out. Harry caught the door as a small family walked out, and the trio slipped inside, allowing the door to close behind them. Dodging the stragglers leaving the Museum and shop, they made their way into the administrative area. Every so often Hermione would cast her modified point-me charm and was soon able to confirm that their target was below them in the same building. Several unlocking charms and stairwells later, they emerged into a nondescript hallway with several doors on each side. Hermione's spell confirmed that they were on the right level and that the treasure was on the right side of the hall.
The doors on this level were heavy, utilitarian steel with multiple locks, true vault doors practically impregnable by nonmagical means. Hearts racing in anticipation, the teens crept down the hall, pausing outside the vault that seemed to be indicated by Hermione's spell.
"That's the one," Luna said.
Hermione cast the unlocking spell on each of the locks and Harry pushed the heavy door open.
The vault wasn't exceptionally large, though it was big enough for a dozen people to fit inside without feeling the least bit cramped. Much of the vault was filled with various medieval artefacts, religious icons, and paraphernalia relating to the Knights Templar, but along the back wall were several shelves stacked with scrolls, loose papers, and ancient tomes.
The three young people were impressed. Granted, this was not necessarily the largest treasure they'd ever seen – this vault was smaller than Harry's Gringotts vault – but the historical value of what was represented here more than made up for the lack of size.
After regaining her composure, Hermione cast her point-me spell several more times, following the directions to the shelves in the back. A few more castings led her to a large leather-bound book with brass fittings and an intricate lock on the front. "This is it," she said, holding the tome with reverence.
"Excellent," Harry said. "Let's get out of here."
They retraced their steps without incident, making sure the doors were locked behind them, but all three breathed easier once they left the Hall and made their way back down Long Acre in the direction of Charing Cross Road. True to his word, the strange blind man was gone when they passed by the boarded-up shop. Five minutes later they entered the Leaky Cauldron and flooed back to 12 Grimmauld Place, quietly speaking the password – doghouse – after they called for their destination.
As usual, Harry came hurtling out of the fireplace, nearly bowling Sirius over, but for once he didn't make any complaint. He immediately turned around to see Hermione step out, clutching the precious book to her chest, followed by Luna skipping out behind her.
"Done a little shopping then?" Sirius asked.
"Um, not exactly," Hermione said, blushing.
"It's the Templar Treasure!" Luna chirped excitedly.
Sirius blinked. "Templar Treasure?"
"Part of it, anyway," Hermione said. "The part that was relevant to us, at least." She went on to explain about the history of the Templars and the theories regarding the nature of their fabled treasure, followed by Luna and Harry explaining about their visit to Queen Titania.
"So…" Harry's godfather began, "this artefact, which the Queen of the Faeries said you need to stop the hunter – who is doing the magical world a fantastic service, I might add – and is also part of a mythical treasure that has been the subject of rampant conjecture and speculation for the better part of a millennium, just happened to be lying around somewhere that you three could simply go out and pick it up one afternoon?"
Harry shuffled his feet as he traded a sheepish grin with the girls. "Well, we did have to break into Freemasons' Hall and steal it from their secured vaults," he admitted.
His godfather looked at him for a long, tension-filled moment before he burst out laughing. "That's bloody hilarious!" he howled. "Prongs would be so proud of you, Pup! Your mum would be pissed off, that's for bloody sure, but James would be laughing his arse off! My god, you've just pranked every historian and treasure hunter ever!" He collapsed on a sofa, shaking with laughter. "How many people have spent their entire lives searching for legendary treasures? And you three just stroll out one afternoon after something that many historians deny ever existed and bring it back that same evening!"
The teens couldn't help themselves. The stress of their adventure, combined with the giddy relief they felt at pulling it off along with Sirius' howls of laughter, caught up to them and they joined Harry's godfather in side-splitting laughter. Hermione had the presence of mind to place the book on an end table before grabbing her two best friends in a rib-cracking hug, her shoulders shaking as she laughed.
As they calmed down, Harry took it upon himself to fetch them all a glass of water. When he returned from the kitchen, Hermione had moved the book to the coffee table and was kneeling in front of it. After casting an unlocking charm on the book, she took a glass from Harry and sipped it while the ornate lock opened with a series of clicks. Fingers trembling with excitement, she carefully opened the hard leather cover.
"Divina Libri Bellica," she read aloud. "Latin. Translates to Book of Divine Warfare."
***DIM***
A stout man with limp, stringy hair, a furtive, rat-like look, and wearing ill-fitting, slightly ragged clothes that looked like they hadn't seen a good wash in months, entered a dark, shabby room in a large, equally shabby manor house. His beady eyes hinted at a taste for cruelty, though that trait was currently overshadowed by obvious fear. His hesitance in entering the room only reinforced the appearance that he would rather be anywhere else but here.
A large snake lifted its head from where it was coiled up in a corner, but otherwise did nothing else. The man approached a threadbare divan under a window covered by thick, heavy drapes. A wide, shallow basket lay on the worn couch and contained a pale, emaciated figure roughly the size of an infant but with grossly deformed features and limbs.
"Master," the man whispered, "I bring news."
"Speak," the thing in the basket hissed.
"It's Crouch," he said. "He was discovered. Madam Bones insisted on a full interrogation with veritaserum, and after his trial this afternoon he was kissed by a dementor. There were not enough of our people to prevent this from happening. Fortunately, Minister Fudge forbad her from pursuing any further action, especially anything that could show the fine, upstanding citizenry that supports Fudge in a negative light."
The thing growled its displeasure. "This assassin is vexing me, Wormtail. What is Fudge doing to apprehend this person?"
"He has been vocal with his denouncements and has tasked Madam Bones with finding the murderer at all costs. She is not willing to give more than a token effort though. Every time the Minister tries to make it a priority she says that she doesn't have enough aurors to do the job, and has implied on more than one occasion that the same people who pushed Fudge to reduce funding for the DMLE are now the ones suffering the consequences of the inadequately funded department."
"We will have to deal with her permanently soon after the ritual. What about Potter?"
"Gone. He left Hogwarts mere days after the first task, while Dumbledore was still recovering in the infirmary. Just like Crouch reported, he did not believe that his own magic was at stake. His mudblood girlfriend had a different opinion than that of the Ministry and other tournament officials, and apparently she was right. When the first task was over, Crouch lost his magic."
"I am surrounded by incompetence," the grotesque figure stated with a scowl. "We must move our schedule forward, Wormtail. I can no longer count on Potter being where I need him at the time we'd originally planned. Though I am loath to give him up, the ritual must take precedence. As we now have no way of knowing where the brat will be and when, there is no point in waiting for the summer solstice like I had originally intended. We will do the ritual on the winter solstice in just a few weeks, and you will use that time to find a suitable replacement for Potter's blood."
Wormtail gave his master a sinister grin. "I already have an idea, master. And this person will not even be able to resist."
***DIM***
In one of the abandoned deep level train stations of the maze that was the London Underground, two homeless men were chatting back and forth as they prepared their sleeping bags for the night. Another brief tremor had shaken the station as they were making their way down into the shadowed depths and they paused as their torches illuminated a light shower of dust from the overhead. There had been several such tremors to rock central London over the past few weeks, though seismologists were baffled and growing increasingly alarmed at the unusual seismic activity. The quakes were never that violent – knocking a few loose items over seemed to be the extent of any damage reported – and were over rather quickly. Though minor earthquakes were not uncommon in the United Kingdom, most of the time they were so faint that no one could tell they had happened. These, though nowhere near the scale of the quakes along the Pacific Rim, were especially disturbing as the seismologists could not figure out why or even how they were happening. The shaking subsided with no further incident, and the two men had continued down into the station.
Jack Murdoch and Sean Kelly had decided that there was strength in numbers, and so became friends several years prior. Most of the year they preferred to kip outdoors, or under a bridge when it was raining, but wintertime was too dangerous. That was also the time of year when the various charity shelters were filled to overflowing, and so when they found that they could discretely make their way to some of the abandoned stations they eagerly did so. Here they had shelter, if not the most comfortable, but more importantly they had their freedom. The charities invariably had rules of conduct, and while said rules couldn't really be considered onerous, it was still the principle of the thing. By staying in the abandoned stations they could come and go as they pleased, with no one to tell them when to sleep, when to wake, or take them to task for not searching for jobs, attending counselling or worship services, or for using foul language. The accumulated grime, detritus, and cobwebs that coated the walls and floors of the station weren't hallmarks of the most glamourous accommodations by any stretch of the imagination, but it was theirs and they were relatively happy.
As they bedded down for the night on the dirty, cracked brick platform, their attention was suddenly drawn to a wet-sounding thud on the curved brick wall on the opposite side of the abandoned track. Even as Jack shined his torch across the track in the direction of the noise, a louder smack sounded as several bricks were jarred loose and fell into the old train tunnel. A moment later, bricks went flying as a putrid, black amorphous mass of something burst through the wall and oozed its way toward them. Myriad eyes of all shapes and sizes appeared in the rotting heap of decaying slime and just as quickly disappeared into its colossal bulk. Pseudopods grew and shrunk, much like a nightmarish amoeba, accompanied by slavering maws ranging in size and appearance from human to wolf to shark to something from the pits of Hell. The unholy abomination defied any attempt to categorize or even comprehend.
The two homeless men were beside themselves with terror. Nearly overwhelmed by the suffocating stench that accompanied the foul monstrosity, they scrambled to their feet and tried to escape, forgetting about shoes, sleeping bags, or any other possessions. As he turned, Jack tripped over a piece of broken masonry, breaking his big toe in the process, and went sprawling, losing his grip on his torch. Sean turned back to help him up, but it was too late. A grasping tentacle wrapped itself around his leg and yanked him back so hard that his body left the platform and was quickly engulfed in the vile protoplasmic entity. Murdoch's screams were immediately muted, only to be followed by the unmistakable sound of bones snapping as his body was crushed into paste. Kelly, seeing the futility of staying, turned and fled for his life.
Fortunately, he was able to escape the horror and make it back up to the street. Unfortunately, the police were reluctant to pay much heed to what sounded like the deluded ravings of a madman or drug addict. A report was filed, along with the analysis of the duty officer that took the report and was promptly forgotten. It wouldn't be until a few weeks later, when an electrical team inspecting that same portion of the Underground went missing under mysterious circumstances, that Sean Kelly's report would be remembered.
Unbeknownst to him, Kelly had been in such a rush to escape that he had failed to notice the gaping cavern behind the brick wall of the tunnel from which the nightmare creature had emerged. Nor was he aware of the eerie pale green glow from the uncharted depths of that same cavern.