30 years ago…
A scrawny young boy was watching an elderly cautiously. Wearing a black frock coat and a silver watch, the man nervously checked his watch every few minutes. Two horses trotted up to him with the cabman tugging at their reins; the horses gradually slowed down and stopped right in front of the man. The cabman looked at him carefully.
"Are you Mr Stone?" he asked, giving him a questioning glance.
"Yes, I am."
At this, the cabman hopped down and helped Mr Stone into the Cab before flicking the reins and taking off again.
Quick as a rabbit fleeing from a predator, the boy sprinted down a deserted alley and zig-zagged his way through a labyrinth of buildings before pushing open a dusty door and entering what seemed to be an ancient antique shop. Treading past countless valuable jugs and cups sneakily, he stretched out a grimy hand at an intricate porcelain vase.
"What have I told you about touching the products, Elysius?"
Elysius Blight, who was only half the height of the man behind him, shuddered as he turned around. Elysius whipped back his hand and said innocently, "I was only just examining it, Charlie."
Charlie narrowed his eyes and retorted sternly, "And that's the third time you've said that. You know, it would be a tiny bit more convincing if you came up with another excuse." His face suddenly lit up into a smile. "Well then, how did your errands go?"
"Not bad," replied Elysius, focusing his attention now to a bronze statue of an elephant, "I made thirty crowns today; old Mr Grey gave me a loaf of bread too."
Going on errands was part of an everyday routine for the young boy. Starting from the morning, he would leave the shop and look for hirers; usually small deliveries for shopkeepers or help with cleaning for busy households. He would return for a quick lunch, then continue working until the sun set behind the neglected row of buildings in the district, Fallow's Row.
Collapsing into a rickety wooden chair, Charlie extracted a pipe from his pocket and lit it, blowing out rings of smoke with every breath. He pulled a newspaper out and browsed through the featured stories. On the cover, a familiar face stood out; Elysius gave a sharp gasp. Charlie sucked in excess smoke at this abrupt exclamation. Coughing, he wheezed, "What's wrong?"
"Who's that?" Elysius was pointing at a photograph in the newspaper showing a fashionable man dressed with grizzled sideburns gazing at the camera with an authoritative air.
"Oh, him? He's part of the Custodians; the highest authority of this country. His name is Mr Stone— Hey, where are you going?"
"Upstairs."
Clunk. Clunk. Clunk. Multiple stairs sagged as the young boy stepped up to his room. Many schemes started to come to his mind; this was an opportunity too good to miss. If he could steal the nobleman's wallet, it could be ransomed for a small fortune.
"I know the times and places he'll be visiting," muttered the scheming boy, "but the problem is accessing his coat; how do I reach for his pockets without him noticing? The frosty weather will make sure he keeps his coat on with him at all times… I'd better come up with a plan soon, or he might slip out of my grasp…"
Looking outside, Elysius saw the moon illuminating the neighbourhood; the sight of the moon made him unexpectedly melancholic. He had been born an orphan like many other children at the time; however, Charlie had found him not long after he was born on the streets, and so he was able to live a somewhat normal life. "It would all go to waste, if I get caught though," whispered a voice in his head. "But if I succeed, we can live a much better life than this," argued another craftier voice.
"Elysius! Come down for dinner!"
As he trudged down the stairs, Elysius, realising he would never be able to resist the temptation of potential instant wealth, chuckled in a low tone to himself thinking, "If I'm going to do it, I'll just make sure that I won't get caught…"
The sun floated up, signalling a new day. Elysius kicked back the thin blanket covering him and tip-toed out of the shop; he wanted to avoid Charlie's interrogation; after all, it was Saturday and very few people would be hiring his services today. The moment the sun's shining rays hit Elysius, he was licked by the warmth of comforting rays of light and was filled with the urge to accomplish something. He strode on, determined to spy on the unfortunate nobleman.
For the next few days, Elysius spent most of the time memorizing the streets and observing the nobleman. Escape routes, alibis, and disguises whirred around in his mind; a plan slowly took shape, and he was prepared to put it into action, but there was still one small problem: he had no one to rely on for help. If a constable happened to pass by while he was still carrying out the deed and caught him in the act, it would be over in mere seconds. He wasn't ready yet for ten years in a dark, damp cell with the rats, so he immediately began to think of a way to obtain a lookout.
"Should I Charlie? No, he would probably ask way too many questions. Hmm… I guess I could ask some of the street kids to help me, but I expect they'll be wanting payment… Yes, the only possible way is to hire a few kids to help; smaller than me but big enough to contribute something to my plan… Would ten crowns be enough to buy them?"
A loud crash woke Elysius from his thoughts and froze him in place. Glancing around cautiously, Elysius regained his composure and quickened his pace then heard soft pattering of tiny feet behind him; he spun around, preparing to fight off any pickpockets behind him, but to his surprise, the two scrawny boys behind him looked just as frightened as he was.
They were dressed in dirty overalls and filthy grey shirts that must have once been white. Their messy, long hair was the exact shade of brown as Elysius', though a lot dirtier. The pair of street urchins shot each other looks, trying to get one another to speak first. Eventually, the taller out of the pair stepped forward, confident as a lion in his territory but shaking slightly said, "E–Erm, Mister Charlie wants ya ter come back home quickly. He has something important ter tell ya and, erm, yeah that's 'bout it."
Just as they turned around to leave, Elysius suddenly called out to them, "Wait!" The pair stopped and faced him curiously.
"How would you like to earn a few crowns?"
Their eyes lit up at the mention of money. "Work? For you?"
"Yeah, I'm going to try and pick a rich guy's pocket. All I need you to do is stand in a certain location and warn me of policemen if they come. I can give you…" He reached into his pocket and brought out ten silver coins, "ten crowns now, and at least a hundred crowns each after I get the guy's wallet. Are you with me?" He shook the coins in his hand temptingly.
"Wait, if we agree ter help ya, can we have that money now?"
"That's right. And don't forget the hundred crowns later."
"Alright, I'm in. What 'bout you, Tom?"
The shorter boy hesitated. "Well, I'm not so sure…"
"Come on, Tom! A hundred crowns each and ten now! And it's not even a hard job either!"
"O–ohh, alright I guess." Tom faltered. "W–what if we get caught?"
"Relax, I'll put you in a safe place with plenty of escape routes and besides, I'll find a way that makes it unlikely for you to be seen as my accomplice."
"U–Uh, okay…" Tom still looked uneasy, so Elysius said consolingly, "If you're still not sure, you don't have to come."
"N–No, I'll come. I want the money so…"
Elysius looked at the pair, as if waiting for any questions, then seeing that they had none, handed them the ten silver coins. Both of them received their fee gladly and waited patiently for further instructions.
"Okay, so in two days, meet me back here in the morning as early as you can, got it?"
"Yessir!" They saluted him and ran off into the deplorable maze of buildings, obscured from plain sight once again.
Everything was prepared now for the upcoming robbery; he now had two watchouts ready to warn him of approaching danger. "Even if they slip up and the police question them," thought Elysius, strolling leisurely, "they can't give anything away, because they know nothing about my plan."
The shop, now closed, waited patiently in front of him. As he closed the door gently behind him, Charlie popped out from behind a row of tottering shelves while carrying a box of imported goods and cried, "Happy birthday, Elysius! You're nine years old today!"
Elysius, who was taken aback at this unexpected welcome, stuttered, "Y–Yeah, thanks."
"Oh, and I also have this for you," he added, settling down the box and pulling out a small box from a nearby cupboard and opening it, revealing an even smaller white iced cake in it. I've been waiting for you all day, you know. Where have you been all this time?"
"Just wandering around; who were those two boys you sent to find me?" asked Elysius, while he searched for a fork.
"Them? They were also wandering around like you. I gave the two of them a sovereign each to tell you to return; looks like they succeeded too."
"Why didn't you come yourself?"
Charlie raised his eyebrows and said, "We had a record of twenty customers today with about two and a half thousand crowns in profit; there was no time to leave the shop. Besides, I thought you'd be home quickly, since it is Saturday after all."
"No, I was trying to find more work, but there was no one there, so I left and walked around for a bit. Anyways, thanks for the cake but I'm feeling pretty tired, so can I go up and have a rest?"
Surprised at this unexpected request, Charlie responded, "Uh— Sure, go ahead."
At this, Elysius marched back upstairs. It was as if there were two armies fighting in his mind; the wild, instinctive army was fighting tooth and nail against his conscience.
"It wouldn't be too late to stop this," his conscience debated. "Oh, yes it is," retorted the reckless side, "you've already paid the two kids, and they're expecting even more; don't back out now you coward!" Elysius took a deep breath and relaxed his mind. "Come to think of it, this isn't something I want to do, it's something I must do. Sooner or later, someone's going to rebel against this awful government, so why shouldn't I help them out a bit?"
—
Clouds drifted by. Birds flew back and forth through the sky. People went on with their daily activities. Fallow Street remained monotonous. No one paid any attention to the boy standing in front of a lamppost dressed in a dusty, beggarly coat with his hands folded in front of him, keeping an eye out for his fellow accomplices. One low whistle. Two low whistles. Elysius spun around, looking for the source of noise.
"Psst! Here!" whispering the taller boy through a shattered window from an abandoned building behind the lamppost Elysius was leaning on. He waved urgently for him to come.
"In here."
A battered wooden door creaked open and admitted him into the room. It was a dark and musty room, with only one broken window to allow slivers of sunlight into the poorly furnished den.
"So, boss, what are we going to be doing today?"
Elysius sat down on the opposite side of a table like a general commanding his soldiers in battle.
"One of you stand on the roof of that building—" he indicated an invisible old tenement building to his left. "And the other over on that rooftop." He indicated another invisible tenement building to his right. "That way, we'll be able to see them coming from all sides; you two take the left and right intersecting roads, and I'll take the middle one. If you see a policeman walking down the road, make sure you wave your handkerchief—" He reached into his pocket and passed to them a handkerchief each. "And drop them. After that, just leave the rest to me and come back here; also if no one does appear, just stay where you are. Got it?"
The two of them saluted and sped off to their positions. Now, the plan had begun.
Cold wind roared and bit Elysius' face as he made his way to his station: an abandoned multi-storey unit set up for destruction. Positioning himself near the window, Elysius took out a long scarf and tied it around his mouth and nose, hiding most of his face from sight. Next, a scruffy brown cap was pushed onto his head, which completed his disguise; everything was ready and all there was left to do was wait for the target.
Although Elysius knew the man wouldn't arrive for quite some time, nevertheless, the animated boy couldn't help but feel slightly impatient. He spent most of the time waiting and drumming his fingers on a giant water bucket mindlessly. Minutes soon turned into hours, Elysius was about to leave his hiding place and search for the man himself, when he heard a familiar footstep approaching the unit he was in. Carefully, the hunter peered through the glass and saw his prey under his window. This time he wasn't alone but was accompanied by two men in suits. He was dressed in a warm woollen coat with a black top hat perched on his head. The nobleman reached into his pockets, drew out an expensive cheroot cigar and lit it. It was time.
Elysius lifted up the heavy bucket and poured the water through the open window, drenching the man in freezing water.
He heard a surprised, "What—" and rushed down the stairs to take the bounty. As he quietly stepped out and positioned himself in a hidden corner close to the nobleman, Elysius heard multiple concerned voices speak up.
"Are you alright, sir?"
"Can I help in any way, sir?
"I'm fine, I'm fine," he grumbled, "It's those damned fools; what were they thinking, pouring water down in this kind of weather?"
Mr Stone stiffly removed his top hat and coat and sat down on a bench next to him. After he checked his surroundings and made sure he was quite alone with his attendants, he took off his soaked cotton coat, still dripping with water, and grabbed it tightly, suspecting already that this might be a set up, while he mopped his face. Crawling up from behind the bench, Elysius dared not to breathe, as he inched closer and closer to his target. There was a strange bulge in the man's pocket. Could it be a—?
"Hey! What are you doing?" shouted one of the attendants, quickly alerting the wary nobleman.
It was time to disappear. A loud clunk was heard as Elysius dropped the lit smoke bomb onto the ground. Dense smoke shot out from it, covering the vicinity in a heavy white cloud. In one swift motion, Elysius swiped the coat off out of the confused nobleman's hands and dashed off into a dark alley. A loud "Stop!" erupted from behind him but the exclamation didn't pull him to a halt; it spurred him on faster than ever. His heart beat like a drum, thumping against his ribs as if to break free. He kept sprinting until he came to the building he was looking for: the laundry house. Heavy footsteps were getting louder and louder; he had to hurry and change out of his disguise. Hastily removing the scarf and cap, Elysius rushed to a basket and dumped them in, blending them in with the other wet clothes. Next, he extracted an expensive wallet out of the coat, hid it in the pocket of another coat in a different basket, and left the empty coat with his disguise. After he saw that everything was satisfactory, he took off the rags he was wearing and pulled on a clean, neat shirt and trousers. Taking the basket with the wallet inside, Elysius stepped back out into the street, accidentally bumping into the exhausted nobleman. Getting nothing more than an irritated glower, he sighed a breath of relief; it was time to check the bounty.
"So how much are we getting?"
They were back together again in the small room, sitting around a table as if they were making a secret exchange. Elysius opened up the wallet and shook out the contents. Multiple gold coins and official looking papers fell out and littered the dusty table.
"Your payment was… a hundred crowns, I believe? Well, there are no crowns here but only sovereigns, so here—" he handed both of them twelve sovereigns each, leaving six for himself. The two boys beamed as they received their payment then waved goodbye and departed from the room, leaving Elysius alone once again.
It was evening and the orange sun was slowly falling back down when Elysius started for home. There were several important papers that were still in the wallet he hadn't given away; each of the papers had a date and a sum of money written on them. Three of them had ten thousand crowns written on them and four had twenty thousand crowns; whatever these papers were, they were sure to be worth a lot of money. "Hmm… This date, 1879, is most likely an expiration date, like those found on receipts, so it means I have nine years to find out how to use these papers…"
Raucous laughter burst out from a nearby pub. As he walked closer, Elysius heard a familiar voice from it. Curious, he stepped a little closer to the entrance and for the second time in the same day, crashed into Mr Stone. He was tipsy and helped into a waiting cab by two of his attendants. Elysius watched the cab drive off and was about to move on, when he suddenly heard another man's voice, "That stubborn fellow who just left, a member of the Custodians, you know, and still got robbed! Says he lost about a hundred and ten thousand sovereigns' worth of bonds… I've even heard he's out hunting for the kid who stole them and has sworn to put a bullet through his head after he's done with him…"
"Bonds… I think I've heard of bonds before…" pondered Elysius, trying to think of where he had heard of the term before, not at all concerned with the threat of immediate death. "That's right, I asked Charlie what bonds were last year; he told me they were sort of certificates that could be exchanged for money in banks… The real problem is trading in the bonds without suspicion. I don't want to rely on others for this, so I guess I'll wait and let everyone forget about it first, since I still have nine years' worth of time…"
Yells and cries ran out from the street corner in front of Elysius. A circle of people were gathering around an obscured figure.
"Must have been an accident or some—"
His thoughts were cut short. Something about the figure slumped on the wall, bloody and lifeless, seemed familiar. Elysius' heart dropped, as he pushed past the crowd to get a closer look. The dead man had a hole straight through his head, a river of blood trickling down.
"Charlie…" No tears welled up in the boy's eyes nor did he feel any pain or grief, but he was shaking more than he ever did in his life. Bright, blazing flames in his body jumped up and lashed him painfully. He was unaware of being tired… So tired…
It was morning and the soft twittering of birds aroused Elysius from his deep slumber.
"Where am I?" he mumbled, sitting up.
His room above the shop loomed into view. There were loud voices below, discussing things Elysius neither understood nor cared about. Now that Charlie was dead, what would happen to him? How did he even die? Someone was coming up the stairs. A knock on the door announced his arrival, and a man came in.
He was not particularly wealthy but still appeared well-looked after. His short moustache bristled with each word he spoke.
"Are you Elysius Blight, one of the residents of this building, along with the deceased?"
"Yes." replied Elyius numbly.
"Well then, Mr Blight," continued the man, "I'm the landlord of this block, and I am sorry to say that you will be required to move out of this building. The deceased, however, had already paid for the weekly rent in advance, so you have up to seven days to make any decisions regarding this matter, is that clear?"
"Yes." repeated Elysius in the same monotonous tone.
"Very well."
As the landlord turned to leave, Elysius suddenly remembered something, and said, "Wait."
The landlord turned back.
"Does that mean I'm in charge of all that stuff down there?
"No, you are not old enough to take over this business, but—" He lowered his voice. "But if you wish to sell something to me, I would pay you well for it. There are a few articles of interest that I—"
"How do I know you haven't taken anything?" Elysius asked blandly, gazing into the man's eyes.
"Well, anyways," the landlord continued, choosing not to answer the question. "How's twenty five sovereigns for the articles in question?"
Elysius watched as the landlord pulled out a bulging sack of coins and poured out twenty five golden coins.
"Please make it fifty."
The landlord stared at him in disbelief.
"It's to make sure you pay for anything you might have taken."
The shrewd landlord stood silently, then put the coins back into the sack and slapped it onto the table next to Elysius' bed.
"There. Take it all; there are about sixty sovereigns in there."
And with that, the man departed from his room.
"The wallet," thought Elysius instinctively, as he patted a hidden pocket on his right thigh, jingling the silver crowns and bronze scriptums he had taken just in case. Feeling that it was still there, Elysius sighed in relief. "I have money and a week to make plans; that's all I need for now…"
The week came faster than Elysius had anticipated and soon, he was on the streets by himself.
"Charlie's dead, so I have to work for myself now," he reminded himself, trying to force himself to calm down. A newspaper page was flying through the air; Elysius read 'MR STONE ACQUITTED FROM HEAVY CHARGES'.
"Mr Stone again?" he thought inquisitively.
Curious, Elysius read on. "Mr Stone was arrested one week ago, in Fallow Street, Sodor. He was charged with first degree murder—"
Elysius stopped with a jolt. So it was he who shot Charlie to death. He read on, determined to get the entire story.
"After many trials, however, it has been revealed that due to lack of evidence, prosecution will not stand. Mr Stone was acquitted today at seven o'clock by the court and is expected to continue working as a member of the Custodians."
Resentment and hot fury exploded within him; how could they say lack of evidence when no more than six people saw him shoot? Slowly, Elysius got up and threw away the paper. From now on, it was his job to execute justice…
To accomplish this, he had to first get educated and climb the ranks in society himself. With scholarships and money, he attended the finest schools, achieved the highest national score countless times, and studied relentlessly while keeping an eye on news of the financial world. During this period of intense learning, Elysius discovered many hidden talents: chess, economics, and even music.
Years passed by, and soon the scrawny boy grew into a respectable gentleman; he was still lean (due to working late into the night) but now had wealth, knowledge, and power. After exchanging the bonds, which the banker took without suspicion, he bought land and factories, slowly building up a strong business. Creating an excellent outward appearance was essential; nobody could tell what his real intentions were, so he built several orphanages and tenement buildings for the homeless, as well as donating hundreds of thousands of sovereigns to the poor.
Finally, after waiting for twelve years, the opportune moment to strike had arrived: he was invited to Mr Stone's mansion as a guest. Politicians, company directors, army leaders, and many other big names from the upper crust of society attended this magnificent party; it was a treasure chest of valuable information. Elysius used this chance to worm his way around key figures, extracting information like a skilled surgeon.
A week later, a momentous story shook the news: Mr Stone's giant mansion had collapsed from a fire, killing him and the other inhabitants. A jealous politician, who had previously been mistreated by the dead millionaire, was arrested with charges of murder and arson, while a mysterious figure walked off in the distance, smiling to himself as he saw the photograph of the raging fire.
But his plan had changed drastically during the years; he saw the chaos and destruction that he had created… At the party, he had discovered many unspoken things… The emptiness that had once been caved in his heart was refilled with a lust for death…
A monster terrorized a town and everyday it came down to eat the villagers. Along came another fearsome beast that killed it; the villagers were ecstatic for a brief moment, until they realised that their saviour was worse than the previous monster. The new monster ravaged through the town and left it looking worse than it had ever been. One night, when the moon was brightly shining in the sky, a tongue of fire came down from the skies and licked the town and beast, destroying everything in its path. A fire… Destruction… Chaos…
—
And thus, the figure slipped off into the dark.