Wednesday, February 01, 2017

Victorian Aegis 1

Chill grew from the fog, strength to strength a'gainst faces weary.  Opaque air beget ice to metals and strange swelling to the wooden doors.  Fragonard stalked about a fire waiting for the whaler.  He was uncertain of the evening.  Would the man hold true to the commitment and would their work complete undisturbed.

The doctor clad himself dark, hoping to not be seen and if so not recognized.  The whaler Johansen was instructed to be similarly attired.  The nights work, illegal, carried a capital punishment.  Removal of corpses from the grave was a lucrative endevor but Fragonards need was for research.  Johansens conscent was strictly a financial matter.

The night drawing dark about the city streets the doctor began to consider abandoning the work.  Though he troubled himself to hide shovels in a nearby crypt, which would require retreaval.  Soon though he heard queer sounds of paddling from the river.  The termination came with steps and drips from a nearby docking.  The huge Swede soon emerged from the dark, watery clothing plastered to his frame.

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