── 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧, 𝟏𝟖𝟖𝟖

Life in London is becoming increasingly difficult, danger lurks around every corner and murders are on the rise... Not even the sun has dared to peek out, hiding behind the black clouds that cover the sky. Not even tea has been able to calm your nerves when night falls... The darkness is almost palpable in the air, suffocated by the smoke from the machines.

It's been weeks since you last saw your friend, you haven't heard from him and the cheeky bastard hasn't even bothered to send you any letters. "It's shit" you think as you adjust your clothes and leave your house, mingling with the crowd.

The atmosphere is heavy wherever you go... it's hard to look away from the most unfortunate people who wander the streets begging for coins, it's a shame... People here under the age of 20 don't live past 30.

And here you are... entering a street so narrow and lonely that it resembles an alley, a place that is, to say the least, dry...empty and insipid. You knock on the door.

One, two, three...

No answer. You try again, more insistently.

One, two, three...

You take a step back and look up, trying to see through one of the windows. It's closed, as always, with curtains covering the interior. Something doesn't add up.

In an "EXTRA-legal" way, you manage to force the door open. Pendleton may be a brilliant man... but he's not very cautious. You enter, only to see the dark interior... except for a few candles barely emitting the light they could.

"Hmmm..." You think, not knowing what to do... maybe he's upstairs, maybe. You knew Pendleton wasn't the most social or outgoing person... he was completely absorbed in his inventions.

You enter, unsure of what might happen... alert to everything as you climb the stairs, trying as much as possible to avoid creaking with each step, but it was impossible. Each step and not hearing anything made your heart beat faster...EVERYTHING was a reason to tense up.

You reach the half-open door of your friend's room... your only friend, you enter and to your surprise there he is... leaning against the window, sleeping? You knew Pendleton was crazy, but... this was unusual.

It's as if he's been there the whole time, leaning against the window...day and night. He seems to be muttering something, you don't understand anything and your mind wanders through various theories...

"MA'AM!" It echoes throughout the room with a bang. He had woken up with a start, his eyes teary, trembling... Pendleton looks at you, afraid, as if doesn't recognise you. Now he stands there, paralysed and on the verge of tears, as if had seen the worst of humanity.