You need to have read the book to get what this is about. It's for The Haunting of Alaizabel Cray by Chris Wooding. I done it for some English homework last year and got a pretty good mark for it.

Final final chapter of The Haunting of Alaizabel Cray

Chapter 30 – The End of Pyke

Mammon Pyke stood in the middle of the room with a glass of sherry in his hand. He was attending a gathering of people in the medical profession. He knew most of the people here; many of them formed what was left of the Fraternity. Some of the doctors here were considering joining, talking with other members as he stood there. He glanced at his pocket watch; the time was quarter to midnight. He decided he should head home; after all there was important business he had to attend to in the morning. Clicking his fingers he ordered one of the servants to get his coat and hat for him. Whilst he was waiting he said his goodbyes. The garments were brought to him, putting them on; he walked out into the cold night.

Dr. Pyke had just started to walk down the road on his way home, swaying slightly, when he heard a noise. It was the clip clop of horse's hooves and wheels rattling on the cobbles that announced the arrival of a carriage. Peering into the gloom Pyke could see the carriage drawing nearer. In the darkness between two lampposts it seemed for a moment that it was a white mare trotting along on its own. Then the lamplight fell on the black carriage, the black stallion and the hunched driver. The cab began to slow and came to a stop beside him. The horses stomped and snorted, their breath misting as it came out of their noses.

"Are you Doctor Mammon Pyke?" the driver asked as he took of his hat. Pyke did the same as he caught a glimpse of fine brown hair on the drivers head. His collar was turned up so most of his face was covered.

"Yes, I am he," answered Mammon

"This carriage was ordered for you"

"I didn't call for one," said Mammon, a frown forming on his face.

"It was ordered from this address"

"Oh it must have been one of my friends. Okay then," Pyke said as he climbed up the carved step.

"Where to?" called the driver.

"Towards Potters Bar."

The driver set his top hat back on his head and with a click of his tongue the cab clattered forwards. Pyke leaned back in the comfortable seat, ignoring the cold and let the sherry take effect.

The cab was slowing down and Pyke realised he had drifted off to sleep. With a start, he noticed that he was far from his home. In fact he was near the Thames and in the Old Quarter.

"Excuse me sir, but this is far from where I asked to be," called out Pyke, panic creeping into his voice. There was no answer except for the crunching of footsteps. The carriage door creaked open.

"Excuse m…" began Pyke again but his voice caught in his throat when he saw who had opened the door. Stitchface was leering at him with his patchwork sacking face and the delicate brown hair on top of his head. Pyke shrank from the figure in the doorway when he saw the steely glint of the knife in Stitchface's hand. He scrabbled backwards when Stitchface began to creep forwards until there was nowhere left to go. Squeezing his eyes shut he never saw the knife come down towards him.

The screams could be heard from half a mile away.  No one came out or looked through their windows. They had had enough experience to know not to get involved.

There we go. Sorry if some people don't get it. It's not one of my best stories but I like the ending, the first paragraph is a bit iffy.