Nell had spent her whole life pacing the streets of London. As a young girl, her feet had skipped along these cobbles as she sang prettily and sold flowers, only occasionally adding to her day’s take with colourful hankies swiped from gentlemen’s pockets. A few years on and Nell’s steps were slower and her attempts to look appealing were more studied and specifically aimed at the male population. By the time she was in her late thirties with a string of financially rewarding, although ultimately doomed, relationships behind her, she had accrued much of what she desired and could afford to hire hansom cabs. Yet, it was to the streets she always returned in the end. Through poverty or wealth, joy or sorrow, friendship or loneliness, Nell had always wanted, above all, to be seen. She wanted the world to envy her, admire her and notice her.
Ghosts received no tip of a gentleman’s hat, nor jealous glances from wives. Ghosts were invisible to the living. So Nell sought attention from other spirits. She had liked Mr Lapsewood a great deal. He had been a proper gent, asking her to do up a button. She would seek him out again and embarrass him, prove that death may have robbed her of many things but she still had her ability to ignite the spark in a man’s heart, even if the heart in question had long since ceased to beat.
On the south side of Blackfriars Bridge she noticed an Enforcer heading her way and floated down to hide in the tunnel underneath. Her desire to be seen didn’t extend to Enforcers. She was, after all, a Rogue ghost.
It was late. There wasn’t a living soul around. Yet, she sensed there was something in the shadows.
‘Hello?’ she called.
No echo for a ghost’s voice.
‘No need to be shy, love,’ she said. ‘If it’s company you seek, come and see old Nell.’
Nothing.
‘Why you hiding back there? There’s nothing to be afraid of. You’re newly ghost-born, is that it? Well, don’t you worry. I’ll show you the ropes. You can trust me.’
Something moved in the shadows. Too dark to see. The bricks under the bridge were damp with moisture that dripped down to the pavement below. Black smoke edged forward. It was blacker than Ether Dust, but it began to take shape. A shadowy creature with a long nose moved on three legs.
‘Oh,’ Nell sighed, disappointed. ‘You’re a spirit hound.’
She had never seen such a black coat on a dog, alive or dead. Nor one of such size. It was almost the height of a human. It opened its great jaws and let out a soundless growl that Nell felt more than heard.
She stepped back, feeling a sensation she had not felt in many years. It took her a moment to realise it was fear.
‘What are you?’ she asked.
It was more than a dog. She couldn’t peel her eyes away from the approaching blackness. She couldn’t move. Something held her. The hound loomed over her, its great jaws above her. Deadly. Dark. Silent. She tried to turn to Ether Dust but it wouldn’t allow her, gripping her with its smoky black limbs. She screamed but the beast opened its mouth and swallowed the sound.
Fear turned to pain.
Nell felt extreme agony as the hound devoured her, its teeth tearing into her body, wrenching her limbs from her torso, peeling her fleshless skin, unravelling her very soul.
In a matter of seconds, the ghost of Nell was no more.