So dont no where this is going but please read and review and tell me what you think.


Chapter 1

It was at the end of July, the twenty-ninth to be exact, the sun was shining brightly and beating down on the unsuspecting people below doing their holiday shopping in all of London's finest shops. It was a truly beautiful day. It was the beginning of the six week holidays. The laughs of children could be heard everywhere. Everybody was in utter bliss. People were extremely hot and walking around in shorts and T-shirts in bright summery colours. Well most people.

A tall handsome man with a dark short hair and brilliantly blue eyes was walking down the street. He had high cheek bones and walked in a way that suggested that he was completely at ease. He wore a long dark green coat with gold buttons, he wore the coat open; this revealed a waistcoat and tie, the waistcoat was also dark green and had gold buttons but it has a watch chain glistening out of the pocket. The tie was white with beautiful green embroidery. It was obviously not the fashion or the weather to be wearing such things so he attracted a lot of attention. He seemed not to notice this. He stopped for a few seconds and looked up at the sign post. He then chucked to himself and walked into a nearby shop. He went straight up to the counter and asked the lady behind if she thought he looked good. The lady was startled by this and stared at him with her mouth open. The man did a twirl to show off what he was wearing. As he was getting no reply he said

'Its rude to stare… or so I've heard'.

He walked out of the shop without another word. He was chuckling to himself. He walked along the path for a bit longer, he then stopped again and looked into the electronics shop it had the news on the television in the window. He couldn't hear what there were saying, but the anchorman behind the desk looked grave. He decided it must be something about taxes, everyone is upset when taxes are raised. He thought no more about it and kept on walking. After a few yards he turned into a alley that was disgustingly dirty.

'Nice spot' called the tall man. 'You couldn't of picked a nicer place'.

He seemed to be speaking to himself as nobody else was in sight, just dustbins and the odd rat.

'Johnson?' he called.

There was no reply.

'Come on, you can't be serious, he is late! I haven't seen him in five years and he chooses to be late' muttered the tall man.

A rather loud cough and bang was heard by one of the dustbins, the tall man smiled, if he knew Johnson, and he did, he knew what must be done. All of a sudden the tall man burst into a rather loud and tuneless song (which is obvious he had just made up) while staring at the dustbin where he had heard the cough.

'Johnson oh dear Johnson

Oh where oh where can you be

Dear Johnson, oh Johnson

Please oh please stop toying with me' .

'Making him embarrassed or scared tends to work' said the man quietly to himself.

It had worked. A short man wearing a black floor length coat emerged from behind the dustbin looking very scared and yet a little amused.

'Is that the best you can come up with Markets? And what were you thinking? you could have had us killed with you screeching away.'

'Killed?' said Markets looking confused. 'What on earth gives you the idea we would be killed…'

'Where have you been these last ten years?' whispered Johnson 'You know full well why we would be kil-' he looked at the confusion on his friends face. 'oh no maybe not, I bet it hasn't got worldwide yet. Probably for the be-'

Johnson stopped dead. He was staring straight forward, straight through Markets and on the London street.

Markets slowly turned around and saw what had made Johnson stop talking. An ugly man in a bright blue suit with a red tie was walking very slowly towards them both. As he got closer it became more and more apparent that this was a man who nobody would wish to come face to face with in a dark alley.

Markets stared at the man in dismay and said

'yes? Can we help you?'

The man in blue just stared at him, then he looked at Johnson who was standing attached to the floor staring at him in utter horror. However the man in blue said nothing and walked away. As soon he was round the corner Johnson took Markets by the arm and walked him away on to the London street. Markets could feel Johnson's uncut fingernails cut into his skin. He knew something was troubling Johnson, it was in Johnson's character to be worrying about something every minute of everyday, but this…this was different.

'Why are you worrying Johnson? Johnson? You are acting remarkably odd? Johnson you look like bat in that coat. what on earth has got into you? Answer me Johnson?'

Markets felt that if he could get him talking it would maybe make his friend a little easier and maybe loosen the grip on his arm as he was loosing feeling in his hand.

As there pushed rapidly through the crowd, people stared and the strange clothing that Markets and Johnson were wearing. People weren't kind enough to keep their opinions to themselves, he heard several people remark on the strangeness of there appearance.

'Well really… people should be locked up if they are going to make a fool of themselves.'

'No' thought Markets 'England hasn't changed still just as rude and unkind'.

Finally they stopped outside a huge three story house. In its day it was probably beautiful and had seen many happy people pass though its doors, maybe many parties had been held there, but not anymore. It was probably white a some point also, but now it was grey and creepers had taken over. It was a town house corrupt.

Markets felt a huge tug, he was being forced through the front door of the house. The front door was slammed behind him. He had been thrown to the floor, as he got up he looked around, the walls of the house were a blood red. It was obvious that nobody had lived there for a while, cobwebs were everywhere, the dust was an inch high on the picture frames that hung lop-sided in the hall way. Markets was so mesmerised by the scene he had forgotten to ask why he was there. All of a sudden he was forced by Johnson into a room straight ahead of him which turned out to be a kitchen. This room was remarkably clean in comparison to what he had seen in the hall way, he soon found out the reason. In the centre of the room was a large table that was occupied by only two people, who he recognised at once.

'Rose! Lizzie! What are you two doing here? What am I doing here? Where is here?'

Rose stood up, she looked grave, but very beautiful, she had long blonde hair, her eyes were green, she was tall but not as tall as Markets. She was wearing a pair of blue denim jeans with a brown polar-neck jumper. She looked quite young although the expression on her face made her look so much older. She ran at Markets and fell into him arms and burst into tears. Markets looked helplessly at Lizzie. Lizzie was a lot older than Rose, her beauty had aged with her. Lizzie had a large scar across her cheek, her eyes were watery but there were a dark brown, her hair was brown, but going grey at the roots. She looked deeply unhappy and stressed.

'Well?' demanded Markets. He was finally realising that he had been dragged here against his will and nobody seemed to be telling him anything. Nobody answered.

'Well?' he repeated.

'Well what?' said a Johnson behind him.

'Well… Are you going to tell me why I've been brought to this place'. he waved his arm around to signal that he meant the house. He quickly put his arm back round Rose who was still crying.

'You are here because… you are here because..' Johnson couldn't continue his sentence. He left the room. It seems what he had to say was far to painful. The only person left who could explain was Lizzie.

'Lizzie…' pleaded Markets.

Lizzie stood up very fast and walked towards Market; she pulled Rose away and sat her down at the table. She sat and cried. Lizzie then made a silent gesture to go through to another door. Markets obeyed.

As he entered the second room of the house he looked around in utter dismay. The room was a dark shade of purple although the paint was beginning to crack. He couldn't see much more with no light, the curtains were shut. Market walked to the window and wrenched them open, a cloud of dust collected above him. He couldn't see much more than he could when the curtains were closed. The windows were blackened with dirt. Lizzie lit some candles. The room was suddenly visible. He looked see a large fireplace with decorative patterns on the marble that surrounded it. A sofa and chair were sat in the middle of the room. They were a dark shade of green, the stuffing had started to overflow through the holes the suite had gathered with age. In the corner of the room was a large cupboard. Markets presumed that it would have been used for displaying something valuable in its day, but now it was useless.

Markets felt cold inside. He was trembling, wondering what she could possibly tell him that had caused this effect on to of his closest and strongest friends. But then again he hadn't seen either of them for five years. He hadn't even been in the country. He was on the other side of the world to them. He suddenly felt a strong feeling of regret. He felt guilty. He was sad. How differently has he felt an hour ago. How much worse was it going get? He sat down on the green sofa, he felt incredibly uncomfortable.

'Lizzie?' Markets moaned. 'Please tell me the truth.'

'I'm not sure I want to' she replied, she still, it seemed was forcing the tears to stay back, her voice was shaking. 'I'm not sure you want to here it'.

'Lizzie please' pleaded Markets. 'Please explain'. He put his hand on hers and squeezed.

This gave her more confidence, she took a deep breath, closed her eyes, took out a note book opened it and started to speak.

'There back Markets. And this time worse than ever. She is back. Deaths have already started. She is after the original team that stopped him last time. She wants revenge. Carol Plays and her family have been murdered, children and husband, her parents, her sisters and brothers. The police covered it up of course. Mass murderer is on the lose according to them. Marianne Thompson and her family have disappeared, Marianne is pregnant. Edmund freed was found dead in his house, apparently it was suicide, I don't believe it he was going to get married the next day.'

Markets looked away in horror. He couldn't believe it. He had known all the people that Lizzie had just said. She wasn't finished.

'Kerrie Lewis, Edward Michaels, Laura Terry, Marvin Daze…. The list continues.'

'Market was shaking uncontrollably. He snatched the note book off Lizzie and looked down at the page, there was a list of about twenty names, at the top it had written gone in the last five years. He felt physically sick. Some of the names he didn't recognise.

'Why are people being taken or killed if they didn't have anything to do with it last time?'

Lizzie looked up, she had finally broken down. A tear was sliding down her face.

'I don't know' she whispered.

A bang was heard from the front door. Lizzie stood up quickly and started to talk very fast at Markets.

'Get yourself out of this place. It isn't good to be here. Take the book and leave. You must stop them Markets, there is a name at the back, you must find him and make him help you. For everybody's sake get out of this house and don't return. There is a door behind that cupboard. Use it, get out now. Close the door after you I will move the cupboard back.'

Shouts were heard from the hallway. A ear-piecing scream was heard, market started towards the door to the kitchen. He knew that it was Rose. He never got to say goodbye. Johnson was shouting to leave her alone, he had to help. Lizzie grabbed him and pointed to the cupboard.

'Markets do as I say.'

'Lizzie come with me please…'

'Markets you know that I can't do that'

'Lizzie please. I can't do it alone'

'Fredrick Harry Markets, you can do anything you want to do'

She started to move the cupboard, Markets could here Johnson putting up a big fight.

The door was there, he pulled it open, one foot in the door way he hesitated and looked back at Lizzie. She was only in her fifties, but it seems that they had planned this right down to the last possible outcome.

Lizzie pushed him through the door and said

'Don't make a single noise! Don't even think about turning back. Don't return to this house unless it is necessary, and when I say necessary I mean extremely necessary. Good Luck Markets, and don't turn back no matter what you hear.'

She slammed the door behind him and started to move the cupboard back. He resisted the urge to jump back out and run and help his old friends but the scrapping could be heard clearly. And then it stopped. It seems that Lizzie had achieved the task. The door was concealed from unsuspecting eyes. Market could hear the shouts still from Johnson. Rose had gone quiet. The door into the room from the kitchen was pulled open, he heard steps going out of the room. The shouts had got louder, Lizzie had left the door open, the noise of a small explosion was heard and then it was silent. He decided that now was the time to start moving down into the dark tunnel as quietly as possible.