GRIMPEN VILLAGE – DARTMOOR
It was a dark and stormy night. Not that unusual in this part of the country at this time of year. And yet, the residents in the small village were wary and on edge. All doors and windows were bolted firmly, and no-one dared step out of doors after nightfall.
Not since Baskerville Hall had become occupied once more.
BASKERVILLE HALL
The house glimmered like a ghost at the end of the avenue. The centre was a heavy block of building from which a porch projected. The whole front was draped in ivy, with a patch clipped here and there where a window or a coat of arms broke through the dark veil. From this central block rose the twin towers, ancient battlements, pierced with many loopholes. To right and left of the turrets were more modern wings of black granite. A dull light shone through heavy mullioned windows, and from the high chimneys which rose from the steep, high-angled roof there sprang a single black column of smoke.
James Moriarty, failed professor of mathematics and inept criminal mastermind was in desperate need of a change in fortune. Regarded with disdain in his first choice of career, and as a joke in his second, he was determined to excel at something so devious and unorthodox that it would send shivers up and down the spines of those that had taken great delight in mocking him.
And then one day opportunity fell into his lap as he read an article about the fearsome history of the abandoned manor of Baskerville Hall. The article ended with...
'There are certain things here which are impossible to reconcile to the settled order of nature. Tis a worthy setting if the Devil did decide to dabble in the affairs of man, where the powers of evil are exulted.'
"It is indeed..." Moriarty murmured to himself, his black eyes sparkling with an unholy glee as the beginnings of a devastatingly diabolical plan began to take shape in his evilly twisted mind.
Several weeks later in the company of his faithful companion and fallen peer of the realm, Sebastian Moran, and armed with the knowledge they had acquired on the occult they set off for the infamous Hall of the doomed Baskervilles.
Along the way they picked up a stray waif, in the form of former chemist, now drug addict Billy Wiggins.
GRIMPEN VILLAGE
Moriarty's presence was immediately felt, even though he rarely made an appearance in person in the village.
On the few occasions when he did, those he interacted with were left feeling queasy in the pit of their stomachs, and troubled and uneasy in their minds without quite comprehending why. When pressed all they could say was that it had something to do with the unnerving way he had looked at them.
For the most part it was Billy they dealt with, as he was despatched on any number of errands, while Moriarty and Moran set about putting their plan into action.
And once they had the villagers cherished feelings of security vanished forever.
BASKERVILLE HALL
The gates were a maze of wrought iron, with weather bitten pillars on either side, blotched with lichens, and surrounded by boars' heads of the Baskervilles.
Strong they may have been, but they were of little deterrent to anyone game enough to scale them. But no one from the village was fool enough to try.
In reality there was little need for the gates at all, not since Moriarty had used the information he had gathered on the occult. He used it to call upon the Devil himself, willingly exchanging his soul and that of his co-conspirator Moran for the ability to perform the darkest of dark magic.
The Devil granted the former Professor his request, before offering him the use of his most trusted sentinels...
Gigantic black hyena-shaped monstrously brutish beasts born in the bowels of Hell itself now patrolled the grounds of Baskerville Hall.
Their fur glowed red in the dead of night, as did their fiercely burning eyes. They possessed powerful shoulders and legs, which allowed them to move with the speed and unpredictability of lightening. Their equally powerful jaws capable of crushing bone like they were made of sticks of celery. Smoke poured from their nostrils, while their slavering mouths released a lava-like substance capable of inflicting third degree burns should it make contact with human or animal flesh.
All this unnatural activity had caught Molly's attention. Her curiosity to learn what was going on drawing her closer than she should ever have come. Too late she realised her mistake when her presence was detected, and she was caught.
Moriarty had just been on the verge of beginning some new experiments when the fairy was brought before him. And it was then that inspiration struck. Instead of using the hapless Billy as the guinea pig, Molly would make a more suitable candidate.
Using the dark powers the Devil had given him, Moriarty stripped the fairy of her fae magic, and destroyed her wings. Once finished he mercilessly threw her outside, where the hounds soon caught a whiff of her scent. In her weakened state she didn't stand a chance.
It was entirely thanks to the swift and timely actions of Billy Wiggins that she was able to get away safely.
It had been several weeks since that incident, and Billy was still alive, and reasonably unharmed, but it came at a terrible cost.
Moriarty had been initially furious, and Billy was certain he was about to meet his maker, when without warning he was ordered to go to the main road and bring back any tramps or gypsies he encountered along the way.
Knowing his own life was on the line he had reluctantly done as he had been instructed. And he had continued to do so whenever the Professor needed his next batch of unwitting lab rats.
Tonight however he had been told to go to the Grimpen Mire to collect an assortment of mosses and the like.
As he approached the dreaded mire he turned on his torch. Everywhere he looked was bleak and uninviting, and incredibly dangerous. Many an unlucky Moor pony had been sucked under due to a misjudged step.
Making his way into the murky depths Billy wondered, not for the first time, if this nightmare was ever going to come to an end.