Rosita Farisi woke up on the most ordinary day, not knowing that her life was about to change forever.
She looked at calendar on the stained cracked wall. Tuesday the 9th of December 1851, about 2 weeks until Christmas. Just another normal day in her normal life.
Rosita put on her winter gingham dress and ran out the door. When she was a little girl, her mother told her magical stories of London at Christmas. The beautiful city enveloped in a white blanket of snow as the spirit of Christmas cheer danced and sang its way down the glittering streets of London. As she walked to her workplace, a horse and carriage sped past her splashing her shoes with icy water. Rosita gave a sigh, they were just fairytales. And fairytales don't come true.
Even on the 25th, there was never any Christmas cheer in her family. And now that she was all alone, there was just the struggle of staying warm and alive. Despite this, Rosita marched with confidence to her workplace by the Osterman's Wharf. This was still her city, and she still felt a sense of pride to have lived there for 19 years.
Rosita began her work shift at The Rose & Crown. A historic run-down pub named after some old fairytale involving a fair maiden, a prince in plain clothes and a dragon. She began her usual work routine: serve the patrons, change the barrels, clean the bar, chuck out the patrons if they got a bit handsy or too shouty, collect her wages, go home, pay her extortionate rent to the lessor of her house and repeat. At least that's how it was meant to go.
As she was giving Reverend Fairchild his regular gin and tonic, she couldn't help but eavesdrop on his conversation. "-disappeared without a trace. That makes 9 people either dead or missing with no culprit. Men, women, even children! The constabulary are bewildered, and now with London folk saying they've seen ghosts!
"Ghosts at Christmas time? I do believe people have been reading too much of Mr Dickins work." Laughed his companion.
"I pray that you're right. But it is not just ghosts. I hear there are ancient soldiers without souls and heroes of old doing battle in London town. This fine city may be infested with the phantasmagoria my predecessor warned me about. I always assumed he was trying to put the fear of God into a young naive deacon. Now I fear that God is testing our faith with these demonic knights.
"Reverend, I fear that barmaid has cast a dark voodoo curse upon you." Rosita gave a scowl behind their backs. She moved away from their table in fear they would catch her eavesdropping.
She went back to the bar when she heard two slightly tipsy women gossiping.
"Have you heard what's happened to Jedidiah? The lunatic has become obsessed with medicine!"
"Really?"
"Ever since the disappearances and those strange figures at the beginning of December, he has lost his mind to conspiracies about practitioners of medicine and blue boxes-"
"But you can't deny it is odd. My friend Sharon just last week was telling me she saw a man draped from head to toe in steel. She swore upon her life."
"The same Sharon who believed that Scottish werewolf story? No, it's probably just some penniless urchins trying to scare the good people of this town. Likely they're also the ones trying to sell some cock and bull story about ghosts and automatons."
Rosita wanted to listen a bit more, but the two women proceeded to finish their 7th drink and then get a bit too handsy with the barkeep.
The humble barmaid continued to do her job. Regardless of any ghosts or heroes, they weren't going to stop Rosita getting her 3 shilling and ninepence for the day. She was the only worker who collected her wage daily as opposed to weekly. Because of her extortionate rent, the money would arrive and immediately leave of her possession. She hated being taken advantage by her house lessor but at least she wouldn't have to sell her dear late mother's medallion. The Tuesday shift finally came to an end, the last rounds were consumed, and the last raucous drunkards were kicked out. Rosita went to the basements to Mr Wilson's office to collect her pitiable wage.
She walked around the dark and dingy room. The basements were enormous, doubling up as both a storage area and the location of all the drink barrels. Her nose wrinkled. What was that god-awful smell? She thought. It was worse then any drink she had ever served, it was as if something foul was cooking.
Mr Wilson's office was situated the end of the room. Rosita gave a knock on the door. "Mr Wilson?... Sir?" Rosita began to worry. For all his flaws, Rosita's boss was never forgetful and would always do everything properly and punctually. He would never leave without making sure the staff were paid first. Her breath quickened when she realised that no one had seen him all day. Maybe he was sick, maybe he had gone on holiday to Cardiff and no one had told her, maybe he had finally developed a sense of humour and was playing a practical joke on her?
As the door creaked open, Rosita realised this likely wasn't the case. She gave a frightened gasp as she saw the office was ransacked. No not ransacked. The drawers weren't opened, just pushed over or dented. Someone was attacked, Mr Wilson must have been kidnapped! She walked back out of the office and her back hit something metal. Metal? There was nothing metallic in the basement!? She turned back in fear and saw a man in full steel armour behind her.
The figure didn't look like a knight in the traditional sense. The 'helmet' seemed to look more like a skull but with rectagonal handles on top. The looming figure tilted its head before trudging towards her; it's arm outstretched and it's feet cracking the wooden floor below. She tried to run away but her exit was draped in darkness and in her panic, she couldn't remember the way out. She tried to move away from this satanic knight before her back hit the wall. She was cornered and the dense marching was getting louder and closer. The metallic demon raised its deadly hand to her. This was the end of Rosita Farisi. She began a prayer, hoping someone, anyone would hear her. The steel arm was about to fall down on her. Then she felt a warm hand take hers, before hearing the word that would change her life forever.
"Run."