A Darkening World
Prologue
Fifteen Years Ago
Light flickered on the walls. Jerome McDuffle sat back in his rocking chair and drew in a long puff from his pipe. He let it out slowly, and smoke filled the darkened room. It had been grand once, but its grandeur had been leeched away with time. Tattered drapes hung like ghosts from the windows and the paper was watermarked and hung off the walls. The furniture was rickety with age and covered with dust. Except the rocking chair in which Jerome sat.
Jerome himself was in his late sixties, although so far that hadn't affected the power of his figure or the command of his gaze. His hair was silvery grey and his eyes were hazel and overshadowed by thick eyebrows. He was old – there was no denying that – but he was powerful too.
Suddenly, there was a scuffling sound outside the room. It grew closer and closer. Jerome froze, though whether it was with anticipation or fear it was hard to say. Then, a man leapt into the room. He was covered in rags, and he glanced around the room wildly before his eyes settled on Jerome in his rocking chair.
"Good evening, Mr. Finch," Jerome said coolly.
"Um, good evening," said the ragged Mr. Finch. He looked up at Jerome quickly before glancing away.
Jerome ignored this and gazed intently at Mr. Finch before asking him quietly, "Did you collect the information I was looking for?" His voice was deep and rough.
Mr. Finch stared at his shoes, unable or perhaps afraid to look at the man in front of him. "Yes Sir. Yes I did."
"All of it?"
Mr. Finch nodded hurriedly.
Jerome leaned forwards, eyes now very intent. He was excited. "Do tell."
As Mr. Finch began to explain, Jerome sat back in his chair and listened. Things were much worse than he had thought. Much worse. Not impossible to deal with though, if the information he was receiving was correct.
When he was finished, Mr. Finch looked timidly up at Jerome. "May I ask, Sir, what you intend to do?"
Jerome looked Mr. Finch dead in the eye now, and it was clear that Mr. Finch found it hard not to look away. "I intend," he said, "to wait. Thank you for keeping me informed, Mr. Finch, but it appears that for the time being we can except to wait for these events to unfold. Thank you for securing this information for me. That will be all."
It was a clear dismissal. Mr. Finch began to drag his feet towards the door.
"Oh, and Mr. Finch?" Jerome said to his back.
Mr. Finch turned, looked at over his shoulder at Jerome.
"If you come across any more information concerning this, or indeed anything of interest, be sure to contact me." Jerome stared at him hard as he said it.
"Yes Sir, yes of course," said Mr. Finch. He thought though, privately, that if he kept feeding someone like Jerome McDuffle information, he would lucky not to end up dead.