You are likely either very ticked off at me for these continued delays or all of my readers have abandoned me for a different story. I apologize. I simply don't have much time to work on a tale that has so much research put into it. Or much spare time period. Life is busy currently. Still, I hope that you find this chapter fairly entertaining anyway.
Evil villain gloating time! Just because Moriarty wouldn't reveal his secrets unless he's distracting the League to blow up the Nautilus, that doesn't mean every bad guy would be as controlled. He was the best, after all. Besides, a little evil gloating is fun. As is evil laughing. Try it some time.
She stared at the bars of her cell, the metal shapes just as impenetrable as they were when she arrived. Quietly, she hummed to herself. The auburn-haired young lady had no idea if it was day or night. Time was practically meaningless in this dark place beyond the delivery of food or oil for the lamp and she could see now that even clinging to hope of ever seeing the light of day again was pointless. She would never be free. She couldn't escape and no one was coming to save her. Her fiancée, her father, and the greatest men of the Empire were just as unlikely to find her as her long-dead brother. There was no hope, but Charlotte still hummed familiar songs to keep sorrow and fear at bay. She didn't want to think about what her fate might be since she would never leave this place.
The quiet notes of her favorite tune died away abruptly as the door opened and a blond stranger stepped into the room. He didn't immediately close the door behind him. He merely stood there, his hand still on the thick barrier as he stared at her. She stared back in surprise, not quite believing that there was a new face on the other side of the bars. For a second, the young lady even felt a flicker of optimism that he might be a rescuer of some sort. Apparently she hadn't lost all hope yet. But, once he gave her an amused grin, she realized he was yet another of her captors. But he wasn't like the others. There was a confidence about him that suggested he was used to power.
Trying to summon up her courage, the young lady remarked calmly, "I do not believe we have been acquainted properly. Might I inquire your name and what my purpose is here? Or shall I continue to think of you as this 'Master' person and remain ignorant?"
He gave a slight chuckle, "Clever little lamb. How did you know that I was the 'Master'?"
"You already seem more intelligent than anyone else I have seen here," she replied coolly. Then, adopting Rodney's behavior accidentally again, she added, "Though, considering the other two I met, that does not truly say much."
"I see he was right about you having a little spirit. Perhaps you aren't as delicate as the rest of those English ladies," the blond man commented. "I like that. It is so difficult to find a decent conversation out here." He paused a moment, apparently considering an idea, before he stated, "I'll answer your questions. A proper audience is so rare, after all."
Closing the door finally, the man leaned against the wall and looked at the rings on his fingers with a slight smile. It wasn't a comforting sight, but it was better than the expression of the last man to speak to her. This individual seemed more interested in the gemstones he was wearing than the trapped young lady.
"My purpose for having you here began years ago," he confided. "When I discovered my path to power. A hand-written journal and a small package, hidden beneath the foundation of an old and crumbling building, came into my possession and I learned the secret potential of gems. I learned of how certain jewels have always been known to have special properties and how to bring them forth. How to spark their natural magic."
"What are you talking about?" asked Charlotte, confused by his words. "What do you mean 'magic'?"
He pointed a finger at her, "You are a child of this modern era. A time of enlightenment and knowledgeable men who scoff at old superstitions. The world is now viewed through science and careful observation of natural events. But these people forget and ignore the less-easily explained powers of the past. They forget about the days when they used to accuse strange individuals of their community of witchcraft and killed them for those supposed crimes. They forget that, sometimes, they would actually find such a person with true power. Man once wielded strange forces and there are dark entities even in these modern days that science can never understand."
"You're mad," she accused softly, shaking her head at his strange rambling. She was imprisoned by a mad man who believed in magic like a child might. "What do these flights of fancy have to do with me?"
"I can't blame you for being skeptical. Before I discovered the truth, I would have been equally suspicious. But I was merely Jacob Morris, another common man barely scraping out an existence in London. Once I learned the secrets of that book that began to change."
He gestured towards a specific ring on his right pinky finger. The gemstone gleamed in the limited light of the tiny oil lamp.
"My first attempt was with this lovely citrine. I saved my earnings until I could afford the smallest stone," he explained, sounding rather proud. "It took time, but the cost was worth it. Once the potential of the gem was activated, it began to attract wealth to me. Soon I could afford more and more jewels. Each one held their own special properties and strength that I could make use of. That's when my life began to change. With the right stones, I could rule the minds of men and eventually take my rightful place in a position of power," he described, a fanatic gleam in his eyes making her take a step back. "But my collection was not yet complete. I learned of a jewel, a very special one that was already displaying hints of tremendous power, that had come into the possession of your fiancée." Pulling a purple stone from his pocket, the man smiled, "The Delhi Purple Sapphire."
Ignoring the stranger aspects of his rambling, the young lady focused on the key aspect that offered a hint of hope. Gaining a weak grin of her own, Charlotte gestured at the jewel.
"So I am being held for ransom and you have received your payment. Surely that means you will release me now, correct? My presence here will serve no further purpose."
"Perhaps I would have left you alone if your father and fiancée had not been so late with delivery," sighed the blond man, shaking his head tragically. "I contacted him before I had my followers invite you to be our guest. I wanted this precious gem before the solar eclipse. That would have been best and, if that warning had been heeded, you would still be sitting in your lovely little house. Even if he'd responded as soon as you disappeared, there would still have been time. But he wasted too much time bringing this treasure. I don't have time to find a proper 'gift' and, honestly, I think that ignoring my instructions for so long means that the men in your life deserve a little punishment. They just don't seem to treasure their little lamb."
"My father cares for me," Charlotte asserted, though it sounded a little weak to her ears. Her father knew of this man's intentions to kidnap her? And he did nothing to warn her? Continuing, she also declared, "And I am certain that the Honorable Mr. Ashmore is quite anxious about my safety."
"If you say so," he shrugged. "But you aren't asking the right questions. I was so hoping that your company would be more interesting."
She frowned at the implication that she was dull. Then, the young lady frowned at the idea that she was upset at the thought of boring her captor. All those lessons on how to be a good hostess were trying to assert themselves, even if the situation did not call for such behavior. Instead, she drew upon her deceased sibling's memory again and gave a slight smirk.
"How terribly rude of me. I suppose my mind was too distracted by these lovely surroundings. Perhaps if we retire to the parlor, I might be able to focus and ask you the right questions, Mr. Morris," she remarked in an increasingly strong voice, an unlady-like amount of sarcasm dripping into her words. "I would not wish to bore such a kind host after all. Perhaps I should have brought a gift to thank you for your hospitality."
Rather than becoming disturbed or scandalized by her tone and words, the blond man calmly turned the purple gemstone in his hands and took a step closer to the bars of her cage. He gave her another smile. This one sent a chill down her spine.
"Don't worry about the gift, little lamb. One has already arrived," he assured. "But the question you should be asking is a rather obvious one. Are you not curious about how I bring out the power of the gems? I would think that such an important aspect of my tale would capture your interest. While all rubies have the potential to provide strength and sapphires have the potential to produce honesty and loyalty, not every stone demonstrates that power easily. Otherwise jewelers would rule the Empire. The Delhi Purple Sapphire is the exception, already displaying its secrets." He smiled at the stone in his hand momentarily before finishing, "No, the secret to unlock that magic was hidden in the book I found."
"And what would be that secret?"
He chuckled, "That would be the right question. All power comes with a price. In order to gain the gifts that the treasured gems might offer, a gift must be provided first. At a time of great importance, such as an eclipse, a solstice, an equinox, or even a simple full moon, the cost must be paid. The greater the gift offered and the more important the astrological event, the greater the power that will be unlocked from the stone. That's why I wanted the jewel before the solar eclipse. The power would have been immense."
She stared at the strange mad man. Charlotte began to realize that the good nature and cheer he'd been displaying was just as predatory as his follower's remarks had been. His conversation was merely a chance to toy with her, just as a cat would play with a mouse a little before the final pounce. She could also see that he wanted her to ask one last question. Part of her wanted to remain silent and leave the discussion alone. The rest of her knew that, if she didn't ask, he would still tell her anyway.
"What kind of gift?" she asked, watching him uneasily.
Taking another step closer to the bars of the cell, he explained, "A special gift. Just like the astrological events, there are certain gifts that cause more potent results. At first, I only felt comfortable using plants since I was nervous about what forces I might be calling upon. Eventually I tried fish, freshly caught and still flopping around. That worked better, so I continued."
He leaned forward, all amusement vanishing from his face. The auburn-haired girl felt that the metal bars was not quite enough protection between the two of them. He was adopting a more serious and professional demeanor. One that made her feel almost as frightened as the leering look that the man who first spoke to her in this place. There was something in his words and tone that made her dread where his explanation was headed.
Calmly and coolly, he described, "In order to spark the power of the stones, I followed the procedure in the book in order to sacrifice a life. That is how you unlock the magic. You give the gem the gift of another's life. Plants work, albeit weakly. They are burned in a fire, the ash mixed with water, and gem is submerged into the liquid. But that is far less effective than the proper method. Animals work better; their hearts cut out and the stone is dipped in the blood squeezed from the organ."
As Charlotte gasped in horror at the implications and why he insisted on keeping her present, he continued to turn the purple stone in his hands. The light glittered off the surface. The mad man stared at the object reverently.
No longer even pretending to be interested in her, he commented, "Fish were better than plants. Ripping out their tiny hearts did not provide much liquid, but it was enough. But other animals worked even better, allowing me to gain more powerful gemstones. Rats, so plentiful in London, proved to be a reasonable gift. Cats and dogs worked even better. Then I tried livestock. By this point, I had enough wealth and followers that I could afford such creatures. I had a preference for," he paused a moment to touch the bars of the cage gently, "sweet little lambs. They provided rather powerful jewels, giving me greater control and capabilities. I started sending some of my more loyal followers, wearing one of my special sapphire bracelets, to search for a new site to build my forces and collect my treasures. Perhaps this place would not have been what I originally envisioned, but it is ideal for my needs. I don't know if they were used by someone in the past, but it was almost like these tunnels were specifically built for me. Regardless, I continued to search for the perfect gems and for the perfect gifts as they scoured the globe. I eventually realized that, in order to unlock the greatest potential, I would have to kill the most valuable form of life."
He held up the amulet of one of his necklaces, a simple thing with a light green jewel. It almost seemed to glow in the weak light.
"The first man was a homeless drunk. He was known to have a rather disreputable past. That death unlocked more power in this peridot than I could have imagined," the blond individual stated. "It can now induce sleep in anyone I chose within range." He held up another necklace, this one with a rather odd stone that didn't glitter as much. "A poor merchant, with a habit of spending more time with street walkers than his wife, traveled down a certain alley that I was waiting for him in. This bloodstone can open doors and break bonds." He gestured at one of his bracelets, "A rather friendly woman on the East Side, raising her child alone by engaging in a little bit of crime because she loved her son. This ruby now offers greater protection and power than those my followers wear."
Charlotte brought her hand up to her mouth, horrified by the casualness that he was describing such murders. He acted as if slaughtering people was nothing that should create concern. This mad man, this murderer, thought rocks were magic and would dip them in human blood. It was too awful to imagine. What kind of person could do such a thing?
"I quickly realized that more valued and more innocent deaths were even greater gifts for my treasures," he explained, holding up a black stone dangling around his neck. "So I needed younger gifts, those who were still uncorrupted and pure. A young pickpocket produced this onyx that can now cause powerful nightmares at my command." He pointed towards another ring, this one on his left hand, "Of course, I continued to collect gifts even after I left the fertile hunting grounds of London. A young chief's daughter, snatched during the night by my more unique followers, gave this topaz power. Now it can…"
"Monster," Charlotte finally snapped, interrupting his description of his crimes. "How can you live with yourself?"
He gave her a condescending smile, "I am merely taking my rightful place, little lamb." Each time he called her that, she felt even more uncomfortable. "Those with power belong at the top. Those below them do not matter and culling off the unnecessary elements is not that great a crime. Especially since the deaths fuel my power. It is not like their lives are wasted. That should be a comfort to you."
"What?"
"The delicate English lady, kept protected and pure until their wedding day, are highly valued and treasured. Certainly they are held in higher esteem than the average urchin running through the streets. The baron's daughter, as innocent and uncorrupted as a child, should make a lovely gift for such a beautiful gem," he described, holding up the Delhi Purple Sapphire once more. "And there is a lunar eclipse tomorrow night. Not a complete eclipse, but it should be enough." He turned around and headed towards the door, commenting boredly, "I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay, Miss Talbot. I have to prepare for tomorrow, but I shall see you again soon. Good night, little lamb."
As soon as the door closed behind the man, Charlotte collapsed to her knees. Even the dread of never escaping could not compare to the concrete knowledge of her coming demise at the hands of a mad man. He intended to carve her heart out of her chest because of some strange belief in magic. The young lady was shaking at the thought, a few tears rolling down her cheek. Part of her wished that it was mere a nightmare, that she'd gone mad and the entire conversation was a hallucination. She didn't want to admit she was destined for a violent and painful death.
"Mad as a hatter, that one," a voice abruptly growled, startling her.
Her eyes scanning the small room for the hidden speaker, she whispered timidly, "Who's there?"
"Easy now, it ain't that gent or his chaps again," the voice assured. Whoever it was sounded angry with the blond man, even if he seemed to be trying to control it. He also lacked the proper speech pattern to be in the upper class. Her father always warned her against speaking with commoners, but she felt more willing to trust someone obviously upset with Mr. Morris. "I ain't involved with that fellow. Quite the opposite. I'm here to help you."
"But where are you?" she asked, unable to determine where such a person might hide in the empty space.
"In front of your face," the disembodied voice replied. "I'm just a tad hard to spot."
Almost helplessly, she glanced around the dimly-lit space in an attempt to see the speaker. She needed to see him, to know that there was a real person in the room. But there was no one there.
"It finally happened," she muttered to herself, holding her head with her hands. "I've been here alone so long that I've lost my mind. I've gone mad and I'm hearing voices."
There was a small chuckle before he commented, "Miss Charlotte Talbot is many things, but mad ain't one of them. You don't see me because no one can see me. One of the side effects of invisibility I'm afraid."
She frowned slightly, the faintest recollection of a piece of gossip flickering through the young lady's mind. A brilliant, yet dodgy scientist was supposed to have devised a method to achieve invisibility. He became a dangerous criminal that used his transparent nature to elude the man-hunt. He was eventually stopped when he was dead, ending the dread of being attacked by an unseen person some of the more gossip-prone girls had whispered about to terrify their peers.
"So I am supposed to believe that a dead scientist is speaking to me?"
"Course not. That Griffin fellow was completely out of his mind by the end. Apparently muttering about reigns of terror and planning to take over everything cause of his invisibility. Power corrupts and all that. Like that Morris fellow. Driven completely mad by power and can't deal with it. Probably a bit mad before that point even," he explained. Something about the unseen person's words left her feeling a little more comfortable and amused. "Thinking you can get away anything makes some chaps feel invincible. Being see-through can drive a man out of his head since it is a tad hard at times. No one noticing you, isolated from the world, and what not. Happily, I'm a rather well-adjusted invisible man."
"So, if you are not Griffin, who are you?" she asked. "How did you become invisible?"
"Stole the formula," he answered easily. "As to who I am, that's even simpler. I'm the one here to free you."
For a moment, Charlotte didn't know how to respond. The idea that someone was actually present to rescue her seemed too good to be true. Combined with the fact she couldn't see him, it did not quite alleviate her concerns about her sanity.
"Truly," she whispered, not quite willing to hope.
"I ain't going to let that mad man hurt you, Lo… Charlotte," he stated, sounding slightly more serious. "I even have some help."
"More invisible people."
She could almost hear the smirk in his voice, "No. Got to protect the franchise. They're a good bunch of freaky darlings, though." In a mildly more tense tone, he explained, "Your father asked us to find you."
The idea that her parent had come through for her made the young lady smile a little, "So you are going to let me out now?"
"Not yet. I have to get help. Can't sneak you past everyone and I can't knock them all out unless I get the rest of the League. I'm just doing a bit of recon first," he admitted. "But you'll be out before you know it. Certainly before that eclipse. Promise."
Charlotte wanted to beg the invisible man to release her. She'd been here too long and she just wanted to go home. The young lady didn't plead for her freedom, though. If he truly existed, asking him to take too many risks now instead of waiting a little while for more help to arrive would be foolish. And if he was merely the product of her lonely mind, begging a hallucination would be pointless.
Taking a calming breath, she asked, "Please, give me a sign that you are real. Prove that this is not just in my head. I want to believe that someone is actually here to help me, but it seems too impossible."
There was a moment of silence before the voice instructed, "Put your hand through the bars. If this don't prove you ain't mad, nothing will."
Hesitating briefly, the young lady stood up and stepped closer to the bars again. Slowly, she slid her arm out of her cell. She didn't know what to expect, so she gave a slight squeak of surprise when something clasped her hand gently.
"Easy, it's only me," the invisible man assured, his voice much closer than before. "Don't think hallucinations can touch people, right? I'm just as real as you. Just a tad harder to spot."
Cautiously, she reached out with her other hand and touched the translucent object in her grip. She couldn't see anything, but she could feel a hand. She could feel individual fingers and knuckles. Following the un-seeable shape, she could feel the wrist that connected to an arm. Closing her eyes, it was easier to recognize what she was touching. There were a few strange spots that, after a little contemplation, reminded her of the scar burns that their cook seemed to collect due to clumsiness. These marks were larger than what the cook had, but the fact she could feel these imperfections mean it wasn't her imagination. Her mind would not craft an invisible rescuer so detailed that she would give him burn scars. The man, though invisible, truly existed.
"You're real," she smiled, feeling relieved. "Someone actually came."
Letting go of her hand, he responded, "Course someone came. I'll be back as soon as I can. You going to be all right until then?"
"Since you promised to come back," Charlotte stated bravely, "I'll be fine."
She sat in silence for a few moments, staring out of her cell with more hope than she'd possessed in almost a week. Then, the door out of the room began to slowly open.
Realizing that he was leaving, she called, "Wait. You didn't tell me your name."
There was no immediate response. For a moment, she wondered if he'd already left and merely left the door open.
Then, she heard soft sigh and he quietly answered, "Skinner. You can call me 'Skinner'."
So this chapter ended up being entirely told from Charlotte's viewpoint. But I think it worked fairly well. I may have drawn a little too much inspiration for the "Master," Jacob Morris' standard operating procedure from the dark recesses of my mind. And maybe a little from "Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom". My brain can be a scary place. But it definitely makes him a really creepy individual. Human sacrifice in order to achieve special powers generally make you a rather unpleasant person.
And since the lunar eclipse, as mentioned previously, would be a penumbral one on June 13, you can determine the current date fairly easily. It was an actual event, just like the solar eclipse on May 28. In addition, any of the capabilities that were mentioned for a specific gemstone are actual traits that were associated with the stones at some point.
I don't know when the next chapter will be, but I have some definite plans that should make you happy. If there are any readers left who are actually interested in this story. Regardless, I hope you enjoyed the chapter and I would appreciate any feedback. It is rather nice to know your opinion.