A House in London

by Amy Cross

  “Have you seen him?” he asked, his old, yellowing eyes wide with fear.

  She took a step back. “Seen who?”

  “He's out tonight,” he continued, turning and looking along the street as if he expected to see something amiss. “Most people don't notice him, but I do. It's only about once a year or so, but when he's out, that's when things get really jumping 'round here. It's in the air. Can't you tell?”

  “I'm sure it's fine,” Jennifer replied, before turning and hurrying away. The homeless guy was clearly out of his mind, maybe even on drugs, and the pain in her belly was still deeply uncomfortable. All she wanted was -

  Suddenly her arm was grabbed again.

  “Leave me alone!” she hissed, turning to find that he'd followed her along the street. “If you don't stop right now, I'll call the police, or I'll scream. I don't have any money to give you, okay? I'm sorry, but I'm flat broke.”

  “He was following you earlier,” he replied. “I saw you walking along the street, and he was right behind you. You didn't notice, did you?”

  “Didn't notice who?” she asked, taking another step back. Her mind was racing and she wanted to turn and run, but at the same time she also wanted to know what the old man was talking about.

  “I've never seen him follow anyone before,” he continued. “I've seen him walking about, but I've never seen him actually interested in a person like that. Then again, I suppose it's a big city, maybe I just happened to -”

  He stopped suddenly, staring in shock at something behind her.

  “He's close right now,” he stammered. “I don't know what he wants, but he's here again.”

  “Who is?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder but not seeing anything. She could see a few drunk people milling about near a burger bar, but none of them seemed too threatening. “What does he look like?” she asked, turning back to the homeless old man.

  “Can't tell that, can I?” he replied, his voice trembling with fear. “Can't look at him.”

  She flinched at those words. “What do you mean? Why can't you look at him?”

  “Can't look at his face,” he continued, taking a step back. “I don't think anyone can, can they? I reckon he won't allow it.”

  “Wait, who -”

  Before she could finish, he turned and began to walk away.

  “Wait!” she hissed, grabbing his arm. “I need to know who -”

  “Leave me alone!” he screamed, turning and shoving her back against the wall. “Don't touch me! I don't want you on me! I don't want anyone thinking I know you!” With that, he turned and shuffled away again, leaving Jennifer to watch for a moment, startled by his sudden outburst.

  “What are you talking about?” she called after him, before realizing that most likely he was just out of his mind, and telling herself this comment about not being able to look at a man's face was just some kind of coincidence. She turned and continued her walk to the tube station, making her way through the small clumps of late-night revelers who'd gathered outside kebab shops and all-night supermarkets. She couldn't help glancing around a few times, just to make sure that there was nothing out of the ordinary, but so far everything seemed more or less standard for a Saturday night. When she got to the end of the street, however, she felt a sudden burst of pain in her belly and she had to stop so she could lean against a post for a moment.

  Taking slow, deep breaths, she felt the pain shifting a little, as if it was moving further up through her guts. A moment later she heard her phone ringing, and when she pulled it from her bag she saw that Lucy was calling.

  “Hey,” she said with a sigh as she answered, “sorry I left, I just had to get home.”

  “A few of us going to a club,” Lucy replied, her words sounding slightly slurred. “Come on, it'll be mega. They've got people dancing in cages and everything! Like, it's made out to be this well posh place, but you can get drinks for under a quid!”

  “I'm fine,” Jennifer said, trying not to sound as if she was in pain. At that particular moment, the idea of going to join the crush at a nightclub was just about the least tempting idea in the world. “Thanks for inviting me, though, I really appreciate it and I'm sorry if I wasn't quite in the mood. Maybe we can do this again some time.”

  “Who was the guy you left with?”

  Jennifer opened her mouth to reply, before pausing. “Sorry... What?”

  “Kath said you left with a guy,” Lucy continued. “Did you pull? Is that why you left in a hurry, you filthy dog?”

  “I didn't leave with anyone,” she replied, glancing around to make absolutely sure that she was alone. She felt as if she was in danger of losing her mind, but the last thing she wanted was to indulge her fears. “Listen, it's just been a really crazy day and I need to get home. You understand, right? I'm not used to these massive all-nighters that you and the others seem to pull. To be honest, I've never really been someone who goes to huge parties. I guess I'm one of those people who just prefers a quiet night in.”

  “You're old-fashioned,” Lucy replied, slurring her words. “Like me.”

  “Sure,” Jennifer said, unable to stifle a faint smile despite the pain in her guts. “Just like you.”

  “Whatever,” Lucy muttered, sounding distinctly unimpressed. “You alright to get home?”

  “I'm taking the tube.”

  “Give me a text to let me know you get back safe, yeah? I mean it.”

  “Sure. Have fun at the club or wherever you end up.”

  She waited for a reply, but a moment later the line went dead and she realized Lucy must have headed off to join the others. After slipping her phone away, Jennifer turned and began to make her way along the street, but a moment later she felt another stab of pain in her belly and yet again she had to stop to lean against a wall. This time the sensation lasted for just a few seconds before fading away and leaving her with just the original dull rumble. Glancing over her shoulder, she waited for a moment to make sure that there was no mysterious guy following her, before telling herself that of course no-one was following her. The last thing she wanted to do was to take a series of vague, isolated incidents and use them to convince herself that someone was stalking her through London's streets.

  Figuring that she needed to get moving, she hurried across the road and headed toward the bright blue light of the station up ahead, only to realize as she got closer that something seemed to be wrong.

  “What going on?” she whispered as she saw that the station's gates were closed.

  “Jumper,” replied a guy in a bright orange tunic, carrying a toolbox toward a nearby van.

  She turned to him. “What?”

  “Jumper,” he said again, before letting out an exhausted sigh. “They're down there now, peeling some poor bastard off the rails. Third one this week.”

  “Someone jumped in front of a train?” she asked, horrified by the idea.

  “Par for the course these days,” he muttered. “The trains were already mucked up tonight, though, something to do with the water system. There's been a lot of flooding. It's chaos, a couple of lines are out. Where you tryin' to get to?”

  “Wimbledon,” she stammered, as two buses roared past. “I mean, Southfields.”

  “Best get a taxi,” he told her, shoving the toolbox into his van. “Either that, or you can walk to Waterloo station. Apparently they're running fine from there.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Last I heard.”

  She looked along the road as she realized that Waterloo was just a fifteen or twenty minute walk south, albeit through the chaotic war-zone of Saturday night. All she had to do, though, was get to the river and then cross one of the bridges. Turning back to the workman, she saw that he'd already climbed into his van and started the engine, and after a moment he reversed off the pavement and into the street, almost hitting a motorcyclist in the process. Spotting movement nearby, Jennifer turned and saw an ambulance crew carrying a stretcher out from the station, with the body cove
red by a black sheet.

  Feeling a sudden punch of nausea, she turned and began to make her way along the street, heading toward the river. Drunks were cheering nearby, and she could hear a fight breaking out, but all she wanted was to get home. The pain in her belly was throbbing now, and she felt certain that it'd flare up at any moment. Looking ahead, she saw a few drunk girls spilling out of a kebab bar, talking excitedly while tapping at their phones. There was another homeless guy up ahead, hunched against a wall, but he ignored her as she hurried past. Nearby, two police officers were holding an angry drunk woman against the floor, while a paramedic attended to a guy who was sitting pale-faced on the ground, holding a cloth against his bloodied neck. On the ground, a broken bottle lay in a puddle of blood.

  “Keep back, alright?” a police officer shouted at the gathering crowd. “Go on, I'm sure you've got places to be. There's no need to gawp!”

  In the distance, sirens could be heard racing through the city, and for a moment the cacophony of sound was almost overwhelming. Jennifer hurried along, constantly glancing over her shoulder in case someone was following her, but all she saw were more flashing blue lights in the distance. Almost bumping into someone, she quickly apologized and then hurried along. Her heart was pounding and the pain in her gut was getting worse, and all she could think about was getting to the river so she could cross and find another train station.

  Spotting another fight up ahead, with two guys punching each other as their friends egged them on, Jennifer took a quick right turn and made her way along a side street. There weren't too many people around now, although she could see someone standing in a dark doorway up ahead. Crossing the road, she made her way through the shadows, quickening her pace, and she almost tripped over another homeless guy.

  “Sorry,” she said, turning back to look down at him. “I didn't -”

  Before she could finish, she saw the side of his face and realized that he had very little flesh, with most of his skull showing through.. She froze, telling herself that she had to be imagining it, or that maybe he was wearing make-up or some kind of mask. After a moment, however, his skeletal features twitched slightly and he began to lift his head, slowly turning to stare at her with two rotten eyes. Each eye was filled with wriggling maggots that were already starting to spill out down his face and onto the ground.

  “I...” she stammered, taking a step back before turning and hurrying along the street. Not daring to look back, she told herself that she was simply imagining things, that her mind was racing and throwing images into her thoughts. When she got to the end of the street, she stopped and finally looked back, only to feel a sigh of relief as she saw that the homeless guy was still slouched in the shadows.

  Diseased, she told himself. He was just suffering from some kind of strange wasting disease. That was the only explanation that made sense. Hearing voices nearby, she saw a police officer attending to a teenager who'd passed out at the side of the road.

  “Excuse me,” she said, heading over to the officer. “There's a man down that street and I think he's sick.”

  “What's wrong with him?” the officer asked, already sounding annoyed.

  “I don't know, but he seems -”

  “Thanks for letting me know,” he added, interrupting her. “I'll try to get to him in a bit, yeah?”

  “He's got maggots in his face,” she explained, “and -”

  “And I'll see what I can do,” he replied, cutting her off yet again, “but right now I'm worried this guy's about to swallow his tongue. I'll get someone to take a look down that street as soon as I can.”

  “Sure,” she muttered, realizing that there was no way he was going to help. She turned and hurried to the next corner, still trying to work out the best route to the river. Glancing over her shoulder, she looked to make sure that she still wasn't being followed, and then she turned and -

  “Watch out!”

  Stopping suddenly, she saw a drunken girl stumbling closer. Jennifer stepped out of the way just as the girl leaned against the wall and began to vomit, splattering bright green liquid all over the pavement.

  “She's alright,” another girl explained as she hurried over. “Just had a bit too much to drink. I'll -”

  Before she could finish, the first girl vomited again, this time letting out a loud, horrified gurgle in the process, as if she was bringing up matter from the very depths of her stomach.

  “Way too many shots,” the second girl said with a grin, as her friend dropped down to her knees. “They had this offer on at the pub, yeah? Twenty shots for twenty quid, so we decided to share, but she went a little barmy on me. I told her to pace herself, but she's a maniac when she gets going. We were supposed to go on to another club, but I think she needs to get home.”

  “I know the feeling,” Jennifer muttered, tightening her coat as a chill wind blew along the street. Taking a step back, she watched as the second girl started taking care of her friend. “Are you sure you don't need to call an ambulance?” she asked after a moment.

  “Nah, she'll be fine. Won't you, Lizzy?”

  Jennifer took another step back, wanting desperately to get going, but she felt she couldn't leave yet, not while the girl on the floor was clearly in trouble.

  “Come on, Lizzy,” the second girl continued with a smile, as Lizzy bent down toward the pavement and vomited again. “You need something to eat, mate. You're looking well pasty. You need to get some kebabs into your belly, and then we'll see what's going on. Maybe we can still make it to the club.”

  “How much has she had to drink?” Jennifer asked, stepping closer while making sure to avoid the increasingly large puddle of vomit that was carrying rotten chunks to the gutter. She could smell urine, too, as if the drunk girl had lost control of her bladder. Reaching into her pocket, she started fumbling for her phone. “I think someone should check her over, just to make sure she hasn't got alcohol poisoning. This kind of thing isn't a joke, she could die if she's drunk too much.”

  “Die?” The second girl laughed. “No chance. She gets like this every Saturday night. Trust me, it's not a good weekend unless you've passed out at least once. She's gonna laugh her ass off when I tell her about this tomorrow.”

  Still trying to find her phone, Jennifer stepped carefully around the vomit and leaned closer, trying to see Lizzy's face.

  “Can you hear me?” she asked, trying to ignore the foul stench. “Your name's Lizzy, right? Can you hear me, Lizzy? Can you look at me for a moment? I want to see your eyes.”

  She waited, but all she heard from the girl's mouth was a faint, guttural groan that barely even sounded human.

  “Lizzy, I want you to look at me,” she continued, peering closer in an attempt to see the girl's face. “Can you manage that, Lizzy?”

  Again, the only reply was a groan, accompanied by a faint rasping sound from the girl's throat.

  “She's fine,” the other girl sighed. “She'll be pretty sore in the morning, though.”

  “Come on, Lizzy,” Jennifer continued, still trying to find her phone, which somehow seemed to have escaped her pockets. “Just let me get a look at you. I think you should probably go to the emergency room, just as a precaution.” She glanced around, hoping to spot a police officer, before turning back to the girl. “There's no reason to be scared, but if you can't even stand, I think you're past the point where it's safe to just go home and sleep it off, okay?”

  She waited.

  “Okay, Lizzy? Can you hear me?”

  Lizzy gasped again, before tilting her head slightly. Silhouetted against the pavement, she seemed to be hesitating for a moment, before finally she turned a little more toward Jennifer, revealing a profile that seemed strangely gray and cold.

  Jennifer opened her mouth to ask if the girl was okay, but she was starting to feel as if something was very wrong.

  A moment later, Lizzy turned further, and finally her skinless, skeletal face was picked out by the glow of a nearby street-lamp. Her empty eye sock
ets stared up at Jennifer, as a low, rumbling growl continued to emerge from her mouth and trails of vomit dribbled down her bony chin. There was almost no skin left on her features at all, save for a few bare patches that clung to her cheekbones.

  “I...” Taking a step back, Jennifer couldn't stop staring in horror at the girl's face. “This isn't real,” she whispered. “This is some kind of nightmare.”

  “See?” Lizzy's friend continued, sounding upbeat and positive. “She's totally fine. Nothing a good night's sleep won't fix.”

  Suddenly Lizzy's lower jawbone twitched slightly, and her mouth opened just as she let out another rasping growl.

  “You had a few too many, love,” the friend continued, putting a hand around Lizzy's shoulders to give her a hug. “You're gonna have to drink a lot of water before you go to bed.” She turned to Jennifer. “Am I right, or am I right?”

  Lizzy's jaw opened further and she let out a louder growl, as if she was starting to become angry.

  “I'm sorry,” Jennifer stammered, stepping back. Her thoughts were racing as she tried to understand what she was seeing, but she couldn't shake the slow, gnawing fear that she was losing her mind. “I think... I don't... You should call an ambulance. I think she needs help.” With that, she turned and began to stagger away, filled with a sense of panic.

  “You'll be fine, mate,” she heard Lizzy's friend saying, accompanied by the sound of more vomiting. “A rest'll do you the world of good!”

  Reaching the next corner, Jennifer turned and looked along the street, where a guy was leaning against a lamppost so he could vomit into a bin. A little further along, several drunk girls were singing as they staggered out of a taxi office, while someone was shouting angrily in the distance, causing the girls to let out a loud cheer. Feeling momentarily disorientated, Jennifer took a few steps forward, hoping to get her bearings and find her way to the river even though the entire city seemed to be turning all around her, defying her attempts to get her balance. She looked along the next street, and for a moment she felt a rush of relief when she saw that there was no-one around. Just as she stepped forward, however, she spotted a solitary figure at the far end, silhouetted against the lights of an electronics store. She couldn't make out the figure's features, but when she tried to look at his face she found that she couldn't, and that her gaze was instantly diverted to the store's windows.