Chapter Text
- It’s stupid, really. She should not be out so late at night, especially with the quarantine in effect, but Mother had been sick and had talked about ghosts more often, of Dylan and Nathan and Father. Mary could not stand it; if Jonathan had been home, he would have helped her, supported her through their Mother’s delusions, but he was still at the front. The damned front that took her Dylan from her. But Jonathan was not home, and so Mary went out into the streets for a walk. She could have gone to the gardens on their estate, but that was too close; she could see into the lit windows where Mother and Avery were, and that was too much. She walked towards the church instead.
- Father has a tombstone on their estate, mounted by Jonathan a few months after his disappearance. Mother had said he would come back, said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, but when she had fallen into melancholy and said that Father was a ghost now, Jonathan had taken a break from his studies and come back to London. To support them and bury their father. Of course, the laws said that Father would only be recognised as dead in 7 years' time, but Jonathan had bought a headstone and mounted it on their estate for Mother.
- “He may still be alive somewhere, but Mother is mourning, and we don’t need her to wander away and get hurt.” He had explained later, looking over her little Nathan. Jonathan had been so happy to hear that she and Dylan would have a new addition to their family, had sent her all manner of books and toys for children.
- Now, almost 10 years had passed, and Father lay buried in an empty casket in the graveyard of Saint Mary’s church, alongside her Dylan and Nathan. She looks at the gravestones for a moment, wishing that she had brought flowers. A hissing sound to the right of her brings her out of her thoughts. She turns quickly and freezes.
- A man,,, or a creature looking like a man, is staring right at her with his teeth bared and sharp. The look in his eyes is filled only with primal hunger, and she knows that if she doesn’t run, she will be his meal.
- Turning quickly, she runs. No sound passes her lips, hoping that the man-creature will lose track of her if she’s fast enough. No sooner has she reached the gates of the graveyard than the creature pounces on her, digging his claws into her sides to keep her there.
- She smacks him, does all her best to fight the man-creature off, but it’s to no avail. He’s stronger than her, and the gashes on her arms and back are starting to hurt. She screams, calls for help and attention. If she dies, she wants the man-creature to be discovered; Jonathan will see to it that her death will be avenged, one way or the other.
- Help comes in the form of bullets flying into the man-creature’s back. He stops his attempts to get at her neck and instead pulls off to hiss at whoever distracted him. Mary turns around, tries to crawl away from him and watches from the corner as another man runs onto the scene and plunges,,, a stake? Into the man-creature’s chest. He gives off an awful sound, a gnarl of pain and rage, before the other man takes out a sword and decapitates him.
- Mary holds back a scream; it won’t do anything to help her. The man takes out a rag to clean his sword and puts it back into his coat before looking at her. He seems surprised to see her alive, and she has half a mind to yell at him for that.
- “Are you alright, Miss?” He says, his Irish accent noticeable, he seems unsure of what to do, as if killing her attacker was easier than dealing with the aftermath.
- “I’m,,, I will be fine, thank you, Mister?” She asks, accepting the hand to help her up that the man extends. He’s strong, she can feel that, and must be if he managed to decapitate a man’s head clean off. Jonathan had told her, in one of his rants about the human body, how much strength it takes to do that.
- “Ain’t no need for mister here, Ma’am, I’m Geoffrey McCullum.” He answers simply, and she smiles, thankful to have a name to put to the face of the man who saved her.
- “I’m Mary,” she answers, remembering that her Dylan is dead, “Mary Reid.”