Torn Souls

By Daniel Green

Its 1878 London, England, with a blood thirsty character on the loose throughout Chapel Town.So much blood, so much misery engulf the dark streets, with despair filling the cool night air.For one man (John Doyle) his life is about to be turned upside down by a twist of a blade.Can he be the same again?Will he forgive and forget?Or will all of London come crashing down to his knees? Skeletons will tumble out of the closest.London shall not sleep no more.
In front of them lay a human body. It was mutilated, torn, and savaged, like a lion would mull over its dinner.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Mar 2, 2017
• ISBN: 9781524678593

Book preview

2017 DANIEL GREEN. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 03/15/2017

ISBN: 978-1-5246-7860-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5246-7859-3 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Chapter 1 Chapel

Chapter 2 John Doyle

Chapter 3 Justice?

Chapter 4 Aftermath

Chapter 5 London City

Chapter 6 Oh Alice

Chapter 7 Bye, Bye World

Chapter 1

Chapel

Sounds of eerie screams came crushing along the dark, wet, dingy passageway walls throughout Chapel Town at a tremendous knot.

The dark chilly November night air was as sharp as a cut throats blade would be, with a barber sharpening it up and down on a leather strop in a most figurosly but yet calm fashion on Elm Street.

Whilst the fresh November air carried on slicing its way through anyone or anything that got in its way, Citizens of the town where either singing merrily in the local public house to the Joanna or stoking the fires of their loins.

Up above smog had covered the gloomy harrowing streets with all the black flickering gas lanterns making it visible in appearance, as if to leave it to witness the ravaging cries of unfortunate events yet to pass by.

Only God our saviour knew what this night would bring to the smokey, over populated piss stained streets of this forsaken place.

Those harrowing screams came from the throats of two young ladies of the night, Miss Flannagan and Miss White who belonged to Giddeons whore house on Charles street.

Their first names where Patsy of Baxter street and Mary of Church street but also lived at Giddeons whore house when their greedy, bloodthirsty, tight fisted landlords would chase them up on overdue payments, that would eventually get scraped cleared by a few briberies.

When they walked the streets together their dresses dragged behind them,

Torn,

Scruffy,

Neglected,

Patchy in areas where fabric had worn away from the strains of their owner’s rough, sexual lifestyles.

Passes byes could only see the faint outlines of a once beautiful flowery burgundy dress, that had once been full of life and radiant with colours which had red velvet trims to finish them off.

But now Patsy’s and Mary’s dresses where as black as a chimney sweepers face, as soot from the cobbled streets attached themselves onto the woven fabric, as they spent too much of their wearing lives on the cobbled floor whilst the owners entertained gentlemen.

It was only a few moments ago that Patsy and Mary had been walking along the black stained cobbles of Grimson Road looking to attract some much needed business whilst walking arm in arm.

A few yards before Mary had started to get impatient about the fact that she had to relieve herself before she blew a gasket.

We nearly at the Royal oak Mary

Patsy said in her sweet but rough cockney accent.

Can’t wait much longer though, I’m nearly busting at the seams said a desperate Mary, now bopping up and down like she was one of the ducks on the traditional hook a duck at the local summer fair.

Don’t tell me you’d rather go down one of those dingy alley ways than wait till we get to the pub, hey Mary

Patsy questioned in a subdued voice, now with shivers tinkling down the back of her neck, as if a ghostly being had just momentarily stood over her miserable but yet over grown grave.

I need to Patsy, can’t hold on

Squatting a little now.

It’s just I don’t like the loo….

Before Patsy could finish showing concern, Mary interrupted abruptly.

Come on girl it will only be quick, will buy you a gin Pats

Mary said to her good girlfriend of four years.

Yeah be quick then, can taste the gin from here babe

Patsy said whilst looking straight down the blackened smogged passageway that gave her so much unease still.

Patsy didn’t know why it had as crime around these part of Chapel where almost non-existent, apart from a few local pick pockets that frequently roamed the area looking for the much wealthier Gentlemen to play victim to.

But as for murders or rapes, there wasn’t one reported since 4 summers ago, still she was, this time with a pale complexation.

your keeping me company though Mary said with the wind changing course from east to west.

Patsy had accepted the fact that her friend was going down the blackened passageway, but for herself to as well was a bit too far. But thought they be better off together than on their lonesome so Patsy said reluctantly Let’s be quick then.

Both young beautiful, shabby women started down the alley way as the dark engulfed and welcomed their slender figures into the night.

Oh, it’s chilly down here isn’t it girl Patsy said whilst rubbing both her outer arms with her roughened palms.

Is a bit Pats, just carry on around here then I’ll squat to go Mary said as her teeth chattered like fine china.

As Patsy and Mary turned round the corner, nothing could have prepared them for what was about to appear right in front of them.

All Patsy thought of at that precise moment was wanting to go that night to the local public house to have a few gins, maybe a few giggles with her kind of girls and then leave with a Gentlemen to earn some extra cash for the night’s room.

But oh no, Mary had to make a big deal out of going for a pee down a decayed passageway, rather than wait for a couple of streets to go at the Royal Oak.

To her all that was a dream, as God had something else planned for the both of them, if they believed in fate at all.

Oh God, ohhh… Patsy said whilst both girls screamed in terror and panic, both hearts thudding like rounds out of a rifle.

Their eyes where wide open with streams of tears rushing down there smooth but yet delicate complexations, whist the visual memory would now last a lifetime.

In front of them laid a human body of some kind they believed, as it was all,

Mutilated,

Torn,

Savaged like a lion would mule over its dinner before finishing its prey off.

The cobbles drenched with blood as the moons light beamed down the alley to reveal the state of this sickening image for Patsy and Mary to find.

Their feet planted to the moss cobbles, frozen like rabbits in headlights, with Mary frequently urinating down her legs in sheer terror.

Guess no need to squat then Mary, Patsy thought in a split second with a kind of a smile behind her pained face. Trying to make herself feel better with a private joke, but knew it was morally wrong to think of.

They continued to scream for a few more moments, as they knew no one would come to their aids, especially to a couple of whores down a passageway.

Even if anyone did hear the panic stricken cries, they would only think whores where trying to leer more wanted custom into the blackened alleys, as most whores did their business down those dingy places. But not these whores.

Even the local Constabulary of all people have wised up to the fact. So the local plod would carry on walking by, whistling as they go and swirl their wooden truncheons from left to right into the faded night.

Who is it? Mary whispered softly, as her breath shone in the bitterly cold moonlight.

How am I meant t… Patsy stopped sudden as saw a clue beside the unrecognizable blood stained corpse.

It can’t be, oh no, please god, why?

Mary shot straight at Patsy’s face to get some sort of a clue off her horrified expression, of what she was truly sick about in her tone of voice.

What Pats, What? Mary tugging at her friend’s dress.

You see that body

Mary nodded in reply.

well next to it is a Teddy of some kind, with its owner’s hand still holding onto it Patsy said slowly in a terrified tone, with streams of sweat pouring out of her paws.

Your saying, it’s a child Mary asked but at the same time dreading the answer.

it’s not just a child, it’s a little boy she broke down to her knees, face between.

Even from about 20 yards Patsy knew she was right as the little boy of 3 years of age, was still clutching his favourite blue bear named Albert in memory of his deceased father.

Couldn’t be sure if was left or right hand as it was severed away from the sweet innocent little boys mutilated corpse. The hand in fact was the only thing