• Mad as a Hatter

    Chapter one: Rubies of blood.

    It was nearly three in the morning, the streets were filled with an eerie sort of fog, it lingered, forming shapes in the shadows that hung at the edge of the street lamps’ light. Only a fool would wander the streets of old Silvercoin at this hour. The pubs were closed over an hour ago, and people should have all been home, even the streetwalkers made their last rounds before three. Murders were rumoured to happen in the wee hours of the morning, between three and five. But a foolish man paid no heed when the bartender warned him to be back at the inn before the stroke of three. He simply laughed it off. The man was in town for business, something Silvercoin was quite famous for. While he was here, he decided to polish the oak counters with his sleeves, and gaze at the bottoms of a few mugs while he was in town. He stumbled through the streets, singing quite drunkenly.
    ‘Tsk, tsk’ thought a man, casually standing against a light post, flipping a shinny silver coin in his hand. Besides the drunken business man, he seemed to be the only one out at this hour. His hair seemed to glow the color of a harvest moon in the lamp light, his top hat pulled somewhat over his face.
    “Allo there mate!” Shouted the drunk man, stumbling over to him. “Whatca doin’ out ‘ere so late lad? You look mighty youn’ to be pub ‘oppin.” The man slurred, smacking him on his back.
    The coin hit the ground, the ping echoing through the streets. “Young I may be… but I do not lower myself to such a common practice as drinking the vile stuff you ingest. You’re foolish to be out tonight at this hour. Did the bartender not warn you?” He asked, his face hidden by the shadow cast by his hat.
    “Oy, why should I care about some folklore rubbish! I’m ‘ere to ‘ave a good time!” The man shouted, tossing his own hat up into the air, it falling to the ground with a thud.
    “Folklore… rubbish… What makes you say that?” The younger of the two asked, one of his eyes catching the light, making it glow an eerie red. A twang like a tightly pulled string being plucked rung through the night air.
    “Oh some crazy man goes about killing men and women, and even children that wandered between the hours of three and five! What rubbish! They say he only haunts during those because they say those were the rough hours when they assumed his parents abandoned him! What a load of crock!” The drunken man shouted his voice out of place in the quiet street.
    “I’m afraid those are the last words you may ever say my good… friend.” The young man added his voice bitter at the word friend. The drunken man’s eyes widened as he saw several puppets lurch their way over, carrying butcher’s knifes. The man’s screams echoed throughout the streets, mixed with the sound of his blood hitting the pavement.

    ***
    “They say there has been another murder.” A woman looking not older then her mid twenties said, looking over her cup of tea.
    “I heard. They say it was a young business man, foolish enough to go wandering out during the forbidden hours. They found his body this morning, stabbed 14 times they say. It’s a wonder the police don’t catch this murder.” Another lady said, looking a wee bit older then the lady across from her. She took a sip of her tea and tsked at the thought.
    A young man looking no older then 18 came bolting down the stairs, his hair a deep black, matching his rather dreary black shirt and pants. “Talking about the murder Mary?” He asked, going and sitting next to his older sister. “Oh hello Miss Crumple.”
    “Oh Yuerik, you know by now you should call me Elizabeth or Lizzy, calling me by my last name makes me feel so old.” Lizzy said, pouting.
    “Forgive me Miss Lizzy.” Yuerik said, blushing out of embarrassment.
    Mary shared the same hair color as her younger brother, but not his taste in clothing. She wore a simple white day dress, her hair pulled back. “Yes we’re talking about the murder. They call him the crowing hour killer. Quite ridiculous if you ask me.” Mary said, nodding once before stirring her tea slightly.
    “I’m going to catch this killer! I swear my life on it!” Yuerik said, standing up proudly.
    “Oh sit down you foolish boy, what would your dead parents think of you running around hunting down a man who’s killed and left no traces. They want you to live out your life before joining them in Lady Auga’s arms.” Lizzy said, putting down her cup of tea rather forcefully.
    Yuerik huffed, crossing his arms like a young boy would, rolling his eyes.
    “Oh grow up already, your 18th birthday is only a few days away, soon after that you’re going to have to go get a job, it’s the law.” Mary said, sipping her tea, rolling her eyes at her brother.
    “Oh I know, one year with the job the city thinks you suit best, if you do not enjoy it, or perform much worse then they expected, you’re allowed to choose another job. They want me to be a shoe maker! Can you believe that?! A shoe-maker. I’d rather be a police officer, or better yet, a detective!” Yuerik said proudly, before being sat back down rather forcefully by his older sister.
    “I’d rather you’d be a shoe maker. You’d get yourself killed with that attitude. If I hear you’ve been running around trying to solve this case yourself, I’ll kill you!” Mary said, glaring at her younger brother. ‘Sometimes that boy is so reckless’ she thought, sighing silently, sipping her cup of tea.
    “Oy, you guys don’t know anything. The police themselves refuse to take on the case due to every time they do, their own men show up dead on their very own doorstep. If they can’t stop him, someone else has to.” Yuerik said.
    “And that someone isn’t you! Don’t give your sister such a hard time.” Growled Lizzy, pouring herself another cup of tea.
    “Oh bloody well fine.” Yuerik said, his shoulders sagging in defeat.
    “Good, now we have to see old Brimbletack today about the job you’ll be starting soon.” Mary started on, changing the conversation. Yuerik simply tuned it out, staring out the window. A few small rain droplets hit the window; the weather was doing the crying he wanted to do for him.

    ***
    A young man with golden moon coloured hair was cleaning the counter with a rag, the old shop looking clean, but worn.
    Yuerik darted into the store, clearly out of breath. “Mister Brimbletack! I’m sorry I’m late!” He shouted, blinking when he looked around the shop. There were dolls lining the shelves, all very well detailed, their eyes so life like, they all seemed to be staring at him with happy life filled eyes.
    “My name isn’t mister Brimbletack, I’m afraid he’s the store beside this one.” The man behind the counter said with a nervous laugh, looking up slightly, the shadow of his hat covering most of his face besides his chin.
    “Oh thank you. I’m Yuerik by the way, nice store you’re running.” Yuerik said, extending his hand for a hand shake.
    He looked at the hand slightly before putting down his rag, shaking the hand. “No name, thank you for the compliment.” He said, a slight smile playing at his lips.
    “No… name? Are you just pulling my leg?” Yuerik said a large grin crossing his face.
    “No, no, I am actually called No name, weird name, but I can’t complain.” No name said, picking up his rag again. “Perhaps you should go visit that you were intending to. If you still have time, drop in here after words. I hate to clean and talk you see.” No name said rather nervously, tugging his hat farther over his face, rushing to the back.

    Yuerik blinked, ‘what an odd man he is’ he thought, exiting the store, entering the one beside it. A portly man sat behind the counter, working on a rather plain looking brown shoe. He looked through his tiny spectacles at Yuerik, “Ahhh! So you’re the young man they’re sending to help me soon. You look well built for the job.” Mister Brimbletack said, laughing heartedly, his fat jiggling slightly in the process. A greasy pork pie lay half finished on the counter. Mister Brimbletack was a portly fellow, but his heart was in the right place, even though it was caked with fat.
    Yuerik though was never fond of the man. He was at the peak of his prime, not too muscular, but not too thin ether. He was the right weight for him, and he was proud of it. He joined the track team in his later years of school, and was proud to win at several of the events. But he prided himself more with his academic achievements, most of them which would be wasted on the making of… shoes.
    But this man before him never finished his education due to underage pub hopping. In Silvercoin, you had to be 30 before you were allowed to drink in pubs, although if you could bribe well, or do things the owners weren’t capable of doing themselves legally, sometimes you were slipped some of it behind the counter. If you had proof that you were from elsewhere, 16 was the minimum age. Dundle Brimbletack did everything for the owner of this one pub, and became so tangled up with it, stopped going to school so he didn’t have to waste his time. He was forced into shoemaking for a living, and even thought he wanted to escape to other jobs, everyone closed their doors to him. He grew into his job, and now loved it.
    Yuerik thought, thought him to be a pathetic man. He thought brew was for only the vile and wicked, or the incredibly stupid. To have to work with a man who never strived for anything but alcohol in his life, was not something Yuerik would take pride in. “I personally think I am built mentally for something much better.” Yuerik said, with a slightly scornful tone.
    “But young man, shoe making does need a good mind.” Dundle said, smiling in a cheerful way.
    “I’d rather be enforcing the law then enforcing the tack on the bottom of a ******** shoe.” Yuerik cursed, glaring around the store.
    “Give it a week my boy, and you’ll grow to like the work. Safe and needed shoemaking is. We’ll always need shoes you see.” Dundle said, waggling his small hammer at him, still smiling. “So you start five days after your birthday then yes?”
    “According to law, yes.” Yuerik said, crossing his arms. “Is that all?”
    “Oh yes. I hope to see you soon.” Dundle said, still smiling, watching the now foul mood Yuerik storm out of his store.

    Yuerik was fuming. He was half debating on going back into the first store he burst into. ‘I need to blow some steam, I don’t think I want to scare the poor guy half to death’ he thought, running a hand through his hair. He felt like running, just to anywhere. He needed to get out all this negative energy before he hit something. He took off in a random direction, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He didn’t notice he took a wrong turn into the worst alley in Silvercoin. Darthburd was where a lot of the city’s scum hung out. The police tried to put an end to the people there, but usually walked out a bloody pulp… if they could walk at all that is. Unless you bought or sold illegal merchandise, a trip down this alley would most likely end with you in the hospital. He kept running, only stopping to catch his breath when he came to a dead end. He put his hands on his knees, panting heavily, trying to regulate his breathing again.
    “Eh you short stuff, whatca doing down Darthburd?” A rather large man said, his hairless head shining in the broken streetlight. The walls were so high, that this alley never really saw the light of day. “You here to buy? ‘Cuse clearly you an’t selling s**t”
    Yuerik’s eyes widened when he finally realised where he was. He looked over at the looming man, and his three lackies. “No good sir… I’ll just be going now sir…”
    “Pay up for seeing my face boy, or face the wrath of me and my boys.” The man said, grinning, punching his fist into his other hand in a show of intimidation.
    Yuerik gulped. He didn’t think of even taking money before going out, and even if he did, he doubted he could meet the price the man would ask for. “I… don’t have any money…” He said, looking up at him.
    “Ya hear that boys?! No money, you know what that means.” He said grinning, showing some of his missing teeth.
    The lackeys burst out laughing, slowly advancing towards Yuerik, Yuerik’s previous courage with hunting down the murder, slipping through the drain.
    A soft sound of someone walking with deliberate steps came from behind the group of brutes. Yuerik was being held up against the wall but the front of his shirt, already forming a black eye.
    “Now now gentlemen. That is no way to treat a young man not even the age of working.” The blonde somewhat stranger said, his one eye glinting red.
    “No name!” Yuerik shouted, glad that he remembered the man’s name, or in this case lack of.
    The head of the gang laughed, towering over No name by at least a foot and a half. He looked down, cracking his neck. “Whatca gonna do pipsqueak!?” he shouted, his laughter echoing down the street. He picked No name up by the collar of the shirt, holding him up to his eye level.
    “I would advise you set me down, or face the consequences.” No name said calmly. His hat had fallen off while being picked up, the right half of his face made of a glossy wood. It seemed like at the edges, the skin and wood grew together, even the hair on the top of his head seemed to grow through and over the wood. His eye on the right side was discoloured to a red, while his other eye was a soft powder blue color.
    “This freak thinks he could do something to hurt me, say boys! Whatda think abou that?!” He shouted him and his lackeys laughing.
    Yuerik looked over at No name like he was crazy, ‘What the hell does he think he’s doing!? They’re going to kill him… KILL HIM’ he thought, shooting a look at No name as if to say shut up.
    A sharp twang rung through the air, as if someone plucked a finely pulled string. “What the ******** was that boss?” The lackey holding up Yuerik asked, looking towards his boss, fist in mid-swing.
    “I don’t know, just ignore it!” The boss bellowed.
    No name twitched a finger; the fist of the lackey fell to the ground with a sicking thud. The lackey dropped Yuerik to the ground, screaming at the top of his lungs, running around trying to stop the bleeding.
    “Or else… more of that will happen… Let. Me. Down.” No name said, stressing the last three words, glaring at the man holding him.
    The boss blinked, dropping No name, trying to run around him.
    No name smirked. “Not so fast…” He said, snapping, a loud twang rang through the streets and the Boss fell on his face, his legs cut at the knees.
    Yuerik watched in horror, feeling his stomach churn at the sight of the gore. He thought he was going to be sick. He saw plenty of pictures of the gore in the newspaper, but to see it first hand, smell it and almost taste it, now that was a different story all together.
    The thread could be seen, glistening and dripping blood. No name walked over, kicking the man so he was looking up. “Now… care to try that again? I know you’re not the crowing hour murder, but I do know you’ve killed several women after having your way with them. I think this is the least I could do, because ether way you’d die. Either by me… or the electric chair…” He said his face twisted into an evil smile. He glanced over at the lackeys, one whom was looking like he was about to pass out due to blood loss.
    “What… what the hell are you!?” Shouted the boss, trying to stop the bleeding rather unsuccessfully.
    “A man, with a taste for puppet string and puppets is all.” No name said, smiling innocently.
    Yuerik felt his blood turn to ice. The man was insane in his books, but he did owe him his life. He shivered, trying to scoot away from them all.
    No name glanced over at the two lackeys, “I’ll let you two live today, but if I hear anything about you trying anything funny then sliiiish.” He said, imitating the sound of the cutting of flesh. “Got it?”
    They both nodded, running past No name. No name smiled, offering Yuerik a hand to stand up. “Good to see you’re alright. You left Dundle’s in a rather foul mood I’ve noticed.” He said as he helped poor Yuerik onto his feet. “Sorry you had to see that. They would be dying anyways ether by law, or killing each other.”
    Yuerik wiped his hand on his pants, “But it still doesn’t make you murdering them right!” He said rather bravely, for someone who was shaking at the knees.
    “You would of rather me leave you to die then kill someone who has killed so many? Very just of you, but also very stupid.” No name said, rolling his eyes, picking up his hat and batting the dirt off it.
    “Not really… thank you, but I still wish you could have done that another way.” Yuerik said, looking at the ground.
    “There was no other way I’m afraid.” No name said, kneeling down and flicking the thread. “It’s odd… how drops of blood look so much like tiny round rubies, or at least I find.” He said, smiling softly. All of the sudden the rain started coming down in hard torrents. “Perhaps we should head back to my shop for some tea while you dry and this storm runs over.” He said, wishing he had an umbrella.