Free Evanescere: Origins by Vanessa Buckingham Page B

at them in sadness. A world united,
yet separated at the same time.
    All the while we had walked, unsure what Jack was
looking for, I was lost in my own thoughts. Without realizing where I was going
we reached an unlit alley way in which Jack said he could remember when nothing
stood here but the filth of London, there was a slight disdain to his voice. We
walked to the sewer entrance and with the greatest of ease, he lifted the sewer
cover.
    “Shall we?” he asked
    We proceeded to jump in and landed softly without
a sound.
    “What do you smell Salome?” Jack asked.
    “Filth, rotten sewage,” I responded.
     “Nothing else? Look around you,” he gently
ordered.
    I did. I was shocked by what I saw. London’s old
sewer.
    “We’ll go right this way,” he directed.
    I followed him for what felt like miles and soon
we heard laughter, saw a fire in a metal barrel. Some of London’s poor still
live in the sewers. They turned to us when we approached them. An odd
expression in their eyes. Their thoughts incoherent. Drunk, I guess, since I
smelled the aroma of stale beer. We kept going. We walked for hours in the
labyrinth of London’s Sewers. It was quite easy to distinguish the newer parts
of the sewer from the older part. The older parts contained brown smooth
stones, some falling away with age.  
    I still was not sure what we were doing here, but from
watching Jacks movements ever so subtle so delicate, it looked as though Jack
was reliving the memories of his past. Suddenly I saw a soft, warm glow of
light.
    “Torches,” I said aloud.
    Jack turned to me with a finger to his lips to
silence me. I suddenly saw them in the chamber. Jack called out for them in a
language long since gone; slowly, soundlessly they approached us. They appeared
weary of us. I realized this was a nest and the way they were dressed made me think
they did not go out much. Jack spoke with one in a language I did not
understand and the old one smiled. He led us to another chamber.
    As I followed him, I looked around me and I saw
the writings on the wall. I meant that literally. It dawned on me it was a
detailed history of London from the time of the Great Fire to now. I was awed
by what I saw. In another chamber there was more writing. A history of the
nest. I looked at them and back at the wall. Many of the nest were lost except these
few were all that remained, forced into the sewers in the late 18 th century during the witch hunts.
    I realized quickly, my first impression of them was
accurate they never left the sewers. They fed off of the wraiths who found
themselves lost down here, rats and lost pets. They continued to fear the
outside world for some reason. I looked to Jack for an answer. It dawned on me.
The answer was in history and I pitied them.
    We continued with them for a bit longer. Jack
stood up and led us out. It’s time for them to hunt, he stated. We continued
through the sewers and I noticed the further we walked the older the sewers
were. Parts of the sewer had crumbled; some were lined with a smooth stone. It
reminded me of pathways. We finally made our way out of the sewer and found
ourselves near Big Ben. Interesting. I asked Jack what the purpose of our
little tour was. It was just in case I slipped and we needed a quick escape. 
The River Thames is just a few blocks down from our exit.
    “Jack,” I began, “I already know the answer, but I
still want to hear it. Why have they never left the sewer?” I questioned.
    “The safety of the sewer was supposed to be
temporary, but as time went on and era’s changed when they emerged, it was to a
world unbeknownst to them. They no longer recognized the London of their time.
It was this fear of the new world that kept them there. Yes, they would be able
to adapt fairly quickly as most of us have chosen to, but let me ask you, if
you had continued to be human and were relocated to an area with no
electricity, no running water, and food was hard to come by how do you