Knowledge or Death

Prudence Marlow sat in her usual spot in the Sussex pub, flipping through her notes on the various clues she had accumulated over the past month and a half. She, along with her twin sister Piper, had been researching urban legends for their graduate thesis at Brown University. Prudence paused, recalling the long, twisted path she had been sent on to go from a little bit of research to sitting in and English pub as she was tonight…

It had all started when she and her sister stumbled upon an article in a local tabloid-esque newspaper. There had been outbreak of horrific nightmares in the Boston area, some so terrible that several people had been admitted to the community mental hospital. Apparently the dreams had driven some to insanity. Even more curious, each victim reported having seen in the dream an image of a young boy with dark hair, dressed in all black. He never said or did anything, just silently smiled amidst the horror. Upon reading this, both sisters immediately recalled an English urban legend they had read about in their initial research. Diabolus Juvenis, or the Demon Child.

Soon afterwards, the girl traveled to Boston and managed to talk their way into the mental hospital. After pleading with the doctors, they managed to arrange a time that evening (before patients were given their sedatives and sent to bed) for all the victims to meet in a group with the sisters for an interview. Though some were reluctant to talk about their dreams, the ones who did all gave the same details about the boy they saw. The group would cringe as a whole whenever the child’s smile was described. At about 9:13 pm, just as the group was wrapping up, there was a brief movement in the shadows by the window, causing all the victims present to fly into hysterics, screaming and hiding behind one another. Piper swore that she had seen a face in the window (saying this only made the patients even more difficult to handle for the many large orderlies that had now swooped down on the situation) though they were on the second floor. It was then that, seemingly out of nowhere, a portion of a ticket receipt floated down to land on Prudence’s notebook. All that was given was a date and what they assumed was a flight number. Rushing home, they called the local airport to check and found it was the number for a United Airlines flight… one that would be heading for London the following evening.

It was only after much debate that Prudence and Piper decided to dive into their investigation headfirst. Between the two of them they could only come up with enough money for one round trip ticket to London. A rather brutal game of rocks paper scissors followed and Prudence was given the honor of going while Piper would stay back at the dorm and continue the research. “Besides,” Prudence had said to her jealous sister before boarding the plane. “If one of us ended up getting in trouble over there, it would be better me than you. After all, I would have a chance at running, right?” Piper had responded with quite the glower, but Prudence knew she was right. She had been the track star back in high school while Piper was busy with the art club and acting. She was the athlete, plain and simple, and Piper was… well, the geek. But she was the geek who helped her get into Brown University. Begrudgingly, Piper also acknowledged the truth in her sister’s statement, waving goodbye one last time before starting the drive back to campus. That was a month and a half ago. The two had been keeping in touch over the phone, but sibling rivalry or not they missed each other.

Prudence had arrived in London with absolutely nothing to go on. She holed up in the cheapest, dingiest motel she could find, spending most of her time at the library. She had claimed one computer station as her own, the one closest to the microfiche projectors and the stacks of aging periodicals. Books piled up at the desk until it seemed like she was a child again, building a fort to hide in. She worked and researched and read until she thought her eyes would fall out. It was a week before she found the next clue. She had been scanning a rather recent publication on the history of urban legends in the UK when a small slip of paper fell out from between the pages. Written on it were three words. From what she could tell, a quill had been used and the characters were scripted in fine calligraphy. It said simply “Look in US”. Puzzled, she had called her sister that evening and after analyzing and reanalyzing it, they realized that ‘us’ was capitalized for a reason. At first they panicked, thinking perhaps he meant that their mystery man had returned to America, but then Prudence picked out a name in one of her books… the University of Sussex. Packing her things in a flurry, she hopped a train down to Sussex and then a taxi to the university.

After speaking to the dean of the university (and leaving out choice details to remain from seeming ever so slightly nuts) she received permission to use the campus library. There she found possibly the most extensive archive of local periodicals imaginable. In no time at all she found plenty of stories pertaining to odd nightmares and sightings of the boy. The older stories spoke of him as if he were just another neighbor (granted a rather sadistic one). They even mentioned something about an older brother of his. In any case, Sussex must have been this… whatever this demon child was, his hometown. It seems that the area was hit the worst of all. She stayed at the library a few nights, taking notes on the more interesting articles. Once she drifted off, and when she awoke there were more articles propped up in front of her with the most graphic and disturbing details circled or highlighted for her. It unnerved her to think that someone had been right there while she was asleep. If it wasn’t the supernatural source behind these stories, it was at least someone sick enough to put so much effort into scaring her. Or perhaps this creature was only bragging about his work. Either possibility did little to help her sleep when she would finally return to her motel for the night.

After over a month of research at the University, she felt she had everything she could possibly get on the enigmatic phantom. There wasn’t an article in the library on him that she hadn’t either taken notes on or transcribed in its entirety into her notebook. She had stopped by a pub to try and calm herself after her latest close-encounter. She had been jumping at shadows for the best few weeks, expecting to see that wicked, sadistic smirk that she had now heard described in hundreds of ways. As she sipped her drink, the door blew open (though there was nearly no wind that night) and in flew a page of a newspaper. It swirled about the floor before coming to rest at Prudence’s feet. She picked it up to see it was a report of a mass murder, complete with a rather gory photograph. The description of the crime scene had been circled. She may have not been as intelligent as her sister, but she knew right away what this meant. The same one who had been haunting nightmares had been responsible for this killing. Upon further reading she saw that the article also mentioned a rash of other killings as well… all within the last month or so. About the same time she had arrived, as well as whomever had tipped them off in the first place.

And so, for the past week Prudence had been frequenting the pub, sitting in the exact same seat as she scoured the papers for more murder reports (of which there had been many) waiting for another clue to appear. Her frustration grew as she realized she hadn’t a clue what to do next without another push from this murderer. Her sister had been urging her to come home, though only half-heartedly. They both couldn’t stand to stay at the very edge of this mystery without ever finding the answer. It would drive them insane… which could possibly be just what this sick individual wanted. Prudence finished making her newest set of notes on possible murder weapons. So far, all the… disemboweling and superfluous amputations of various limbs had been done with something incredibly sharp and precise. She had various types of knives down, along with some rather esoteric swords. Exhausted, she slumped back against the booth cushion and took a long sip of her beer. Just as she let her eyes slip closed she heard a small scratching sound beneath the dull roar of conversations in the room. Something like pencil on paper…
dencdence’s eyes snapped open in time to see her pencil finish adding something to her notes… without a hand to guide it. Upon concluding, it dropped to the table, rolling off the edge to land in her lap. Taking another, much longer sip of beer she leaned forward to read the newest addition, written in perfect calligraphy…

Razor wire.

An odd sound whispered by her ear, like a fingernail dragging along a guitar string, followed by a slight stinging sensation on her cheek. A hand rose towards the injured area, feeling a thin line of blood seeping from the new cut etched into her skin. Staring off into space, her body began to tremble. The message was clear. He was there. Watching her. Right now. With his weapon. He could kill her any time he wanted to, and there was nothing she could do to stop him. Her lower lip quivered, a silent expression of the scream trapped inside her throat. Something brushed the hair at the back of her neck, causing her to jump so high she fell from her seat upon landing. Several of the other patrons looked at her oddly as she scrambled to heet, et, rushing to gather her things and dash out of the pub, dialing Piper’s number on her cell phone as she ran down the street back to her motel.