A/N: Thank you for the reviews and especially thanks to AndreKI. I've taken your thoughts into my writing of this story. I'll see if I can avoid making it too one-dimensional, so please stick around and let me know how it goes ;)
Chapter 4
"Fuck, fuck, fuck..." Morgan cursed, as he slammed the door shut behind him and slid down against it. He had just run several blocks, from the stopped train in the tunnel to his apartment and the acid in his muscles were burning.
His entire body was shaking.
Heart pounding hard against his chest.
Cold sweat against hot skin.
Dizzy.
Sight blurry.
Nauseated.
The man Staggered breathing.
Morgan stared at his trembling hands, remembering the looks of confusion and fear of the people as they had stared at him in disbelief.
Feeling the vibrations of the approaching train, it was as if something had taken over. Morgan's body had acted on it's own, as he ran to the far back of the train. He had heard himself speak the words, seen the emergency exit blast open.
Morgan had felt the winds of the upcoming train in the dark tunnel. He had heard the sound of wheels against the tracks.
His hand had reached up, his mouth had spoken a foreign language again and the next thing he saw was the train, coming right at him, like a roaring tiger in the darkness.
Then, the train had slowed down and stopped inches from his outstretched hand.
Morgan had let out a breath and finally regained control of his own body, as he slowly lowered his hand.
Looking back, he had seen them. Their faces, painted with confusion, judgement and fear, as they looked at him.
He knew looks like that all too well. He'd seen them all his life. In the faces of the social workers, foster parents, psychiatrists, police and random people on the streets, the trains.
Freak. Misfit. Pathetic, sad and worthless existence.
None of it was new to him.
Morgan shut his eyes and clenched his fists, trying to gain a little control of his panicking body, when he suddenly felt an unfamiliar heat in his palms.
Opening his fists, Morgan screamed and stood up in panic. He shook his hands desperately, trying to put out the fire in his palms. He stumbled into the couch table and fell hard on the floor.
Morgan let out another scream, as an agonizing pain burned through his body. The nausea returned double fold. His stomach twisted and Morgan just barely got on his side, before his body threw out the content of his stomach.
He gaged.
Stomach continuing to cramp and twist, despite being completely empty.
Burning skin.
Icy cold sweat.
Heart beating fast and irregularly.
Gasping, breathing becoming difficult.
Suddenly the sound of shattering glass broke his screams and items flew from shelf's and cabinets, as a wind filled the place.
Morgan clenched his eyes shut, covering them with his arms.
"Stop!" He screamed, desperate.
O_0
Arthur woke with a startle, as if something had woken him suddenly. Sitting straight and looking around, Arthur found nothing but dark silence around him, except for the dim light of the office lamp and the laptop. He had fallen asleep in his office during work again.
The small numbers in the right corner of the laptop, told him it was already past 1am .
Arthur let out a small groan and pinched his nose tiredly, then glared at the open case files.
This case was bugging him to the point of wanting to pull his hair out in frustration.
So far there had been four murders, with seemingly no trace of how or why. The victims had nothing in common and all of them came up with a blank autopsy. The coroner had no guess, as to how the victims had died.
They were all perfectly healthy corpses, so to speak. It was as if they've just stopped being alive.
Arthur took out one item, that the first victim had had on them, when they'd been found.
A silver ring, with some sort of crest on it. It wasn't something he'd ever seen before. He had roamed the internet, gone through every book possible, trying to locate the crest. However, he'd come up empty handed.
Arthur let out a long sigh, fiddling the ring between his fingers.
He never imagined that a case could bother him this much. It wasn't that he felt some kind of special sympathy for the victims or anything. However, a feeling deep down in his gut, told him that something wasn't right.
Four dead people, who by any anatomical reason, shouldn't be dead and a crest, which couldn't be found anywhere.
He pushed himself from the desk and got up.
He needed a break.
A break which should contain some proper sleep.
Preferably in a soft bed.
Arthur headed for his bedroom and opening the door, he found Ashley sleeping peacefully in his bed.
Right, his fiancé had stayed over after they had dined together earlier.
After spending the entire long weekend in Scotland and another few days stuck at work, thanks to new murders, Ashley had demanded, that he spend some quality time with her.
However, this was expected, he guessed. After all, they were engaged to be married in a year's time.
Arthur let out a quiet sigh and closed the bedroom door carefully. He picked up his jacket and keys, before leaving the apartment. The rugged halls of the apartment building was quiet and deserted, given the late hour.
Arthur headed straight for the elevator and a minute later found himself in the grand, tiled entrance hall.
"Pretty late for a walk, isn't it, Mr. Pence?" The night guard, Wilson, asked and gave Arthur a questioning look from behind the hall desk.
"Is it?" Arthur simply replied and opened the glass door as Wilson buzzed it open.
"Don't wait up." Arthur added with a crooked smirk at the guard, who just shook his head at the young man.
The case continued to rummage in his head, as he started walking with no particular destination in mind. He just needed a change of pace and some fresh air.
Maybe this would make him see clearer.
If only one of the murders had had a witness. If only someone had seen something - anything, then maybe he'd have something to go by. However, as it was now, there was no clue as to how, why and even less who. And somewhere, a sick and twisted murderer walked around, laughing at and mocking Arthur for not being able to catch them.
Arthur was walking along the streets of downtown London, hands in his pockets, sheltering himself from the cold and lost in his own thoughts.
The rumbling sound and glass shattering was the first he heard. Then came the light with the scorching heat, burning his skin. The force pushing him meters back, his back colliding with the concrete.
Disorientation.
Ringing ears.
Suffocating and impregnable smoke and dust.
Arthur coughed and gasped, the hot air burning his lungs.
He looked around, his vision blurry and spotted. He saw unmoving figures on the ground and figures running around in the dust. However it was as the world had been muted, because Arthur heard nothing but the ringing sound in his ears.
Somewhat confused, as to what had happened he rose to his elbows, his sight slowly becoming a bit clearer and the ringing fading. He felt a hand on his shoulder and felt someone next to him. Arthur looked to his right and found a man next to him. The man's mouth was moving, however Arthur wasn't able to hear anything. He shook his head and sat up completely.
"Wha- what happened?" He mumbled and tried to get up, but was held down by the stranger.
"Easy there."
Arthur was finally able to what the man said.
"The Aspley House exploded." He said and looked straight ahead through the heavy dust, "You're lucky you weren't closer to the house..."
The Apsley House? Explosion?
It was only now that Arthur heard the shouts and sirens over the sound of a roaring fire and saw the flames through the smoke and dust.
It wasn't long though, before the sound of another explosion was heard not far away and then another one. The man looked up. Fear and confusion evident in the dust covered face. He was about to say something when Arthur interrupted him, stumbling on his feet.
"It's okay." Arthur said and pulled out his badge, "I'm a cop. I'll figure out what's happening. You sir, should go home and stay inside."
The man looked at him and then nodded, getting up.
"Oh and thank you." Arthur added and gave a small nod of acknowledgement before he turned, covered his face and ran through the smoke.
He could hear the cries and groans of pain but couldn't see anything through the chick smoke. He coughed, the dust getting in his lungs and called out, trying to locate someone, anyone.
After a minute of no response someone finally reacted to his calls and following the voice through the smoke, Arthur came upon a couple of youngersters. One of them, a young boy, was leaned over a girl.
"Help me, please!" The boy pleaded, a sign of relief in his eyes as he saw Arthur, "She- she's not moving." He stammered and moved away a little when Arthur kneeled down next to them.
"We were on our way home from a party and then suddenly-"
"I know." Arthur said understanding and felt for a pulse and breathing from the girl. He looked at the boy.
"Your girlfriend?" He asked. The boy nodded, tears swelling up in his eyes, mixing with the blood streaming down from a cut on his forehead.
"Is she...?"
"She's alive." Arthur answered and stood, picking the girl up in his arms, "But she needs help immediately."
"It's me." Arthur said, as the other end of the phone was picked up.
"Pence? Look, right now isn't really-" The other voice sounded confused and somewhat stressed.
"I'm there." Arthur interrupted quickly and looked around. Smoke and fire was still coming from the building, however by now the firedepartment has arrived, along with medical assistance and police, all trying to put out the fire in the old building and helping out wounded people.
"What?"
"The Apsley House." Arthur answered tight away, "I was there when it happened and I'm here now." He continued as he walked helped a couple of medics getting a wounded up from the ground, "I heard two more explosions. What's happening?"
There was a pause for a moment, then a sigh.
"We don't know yet." The other answered, sounding tired, "For now we're treating it as acts of terror, however no one has claimed responsibility yet."
Arthur nodded. He figured as much.
"The other two places?" Arthur asked, wanting to know where the other explosions had happened.
Another long silence.
"Banqueting House and Royal Albert Hall." Was the answer, voice not hiding it's sadness.
Three places, all national, cultural and historic treasures. This was no coincidence. This was something which had been planned carefully.
Someone was attacking Londoners, the British at their very core.
Arthur hummed and signaled a couple of his subordinates over.
"We will have to work together on this." Arthur said into the phone, "This is big. We'll need each other's resources."
"You're right." The other agreed, "I'll let the chief know, I'm sure he has forgiven you for turning down his offer by now."
Arthur chuckled, remembering how offended the Chief of MI5 had been, when Arthur had turned down his offer to become an agent, saying he'd rather work close amongst his people in London.
Arthur still kept in contact with an old friend from the police academy, who in turn had accepted an offer at MI5. Connections like this was important for the working relationship between the two fractions, especially when something like this happened.
"Thanks Leo, I'll keep in contact." Arthur finished and hung up.