Children on Scene of Bloodiest Serial Killings in a Decade

Chapter Two

"For strange effects and extraordinary combinations we must go to life itself, which is always far more daring than any effort of the imagination."

Arthur Conan Doyle

If there was one thing Oscar liked, it was getting attention. Especially when that attention was coming from a high-ranking member of the most powerful gang in the West End. 

Josie had made plans for Oscar to come to the large room that the gang used as their base. It was a supervisor's bedroom back in the day, though nobody is quite certain how it got into their hands. It sat at the far end of the first floor corridor. At the other end was Oscar's room, the smallest and most carefully guarded room in the building. To the inexperienced, the room seemed like the ideal place to stay to plan an escape. It was at the top of the main staircase and no supervisors rooms were nearby. It also featured a conveniently placed window situated directly above a slanted rooftop that looked as if it were made for making a quick getaway. However, it is for these reasons that the orphanage manager decided to secure the room. Even the most incompetent child would have been able to escape from it, and of course, everybody wanted to. Everybody, that is, except George Budge. 

George was... well... in the kindest of terms, he was innocent. A shy child from birth, he was delivered to the orphanage as a newborn and had been growing up with no inclination to escape, despite it being the preferred topic of discussion between the other children. Of course, George had to be the one to share a room with Oscar. Oscar was not happy about this.

However, Oscar did often take advantage of George's... let's say, passive  nature. He often spent hours in the afternoons napping in broad daylight, on the grass outside or more commonly, on his bed, and once he was out, he was out. This proved to be extremely useful for Oscar. One of his favourite pastimes was to perform experiments, and every good experiment needs a human test subject. 

One afternoon while George slept peacefully on his bed, Oscar decided it was time to test the effects of some suspicious-looking powders that he had found in the basement. He knew that it was highly unlikely that anything dangerous would be kept in the basement of the orphanage, but he was desperate to try anything. Being locked away in a place like that was absolute torture for Oscar, who thrived on adventure and mystery. He made use of anything he could get his hands on.

When the supervisor on duty left the porch to fetch the next supervisor for their shift, Oscar took his chance. George was lying peacefully, with his mouth hanging open and snoring gently, on a blanket in the corner of the lawn. That spot had been shaded but as the sun drifted towards the west the shadow was beginning to cut through the edge of his blanket. Oscar sat next to him, as if he were trying to wake him up, but instead he tapped the powder from a salt shaker (he had also found it in the basement) into his nostrils.

Within a couple of minutes, George was awake and struggling. Oscar had already disappeared to another part of the lawn and was watching innocently from afar. George seemed to be sneezing and choking simultaneously. Oscar worried slightly that he had actually given him something dangerous. And as it turns out, he had. 

There is one thing that Oscar had failed to consider when collecting his powder. He had found it in a darkened corner of the basement, next to a small plastic box. In fact, the powder itself was merely spilled salt, since it was sitting next to the salt and pepper shakers and food storage. However, there was some, very tiny and almost undetectable, toxic powder left in the salt shaker. It had been sitting next to the plastic box because it was being used to top up its contents. It was rat poisoning. 

Oscar realised this by the time the supervisor had dashed over in a panic to George and had phoned an ambulance. The ambulance arrived and stupidly, they had concluded that he must have inhaled it from the grass.

George made no effort to try and stop Oscar from meeting Josie. However, the same cannot be said of Mr. Robertson, who found Oscar lurking about at the top of the staircase, mentally preparing his lie. 

'Ah, Oscar. Just the lad I wanted to see. Say, have you apologised to George for the worm incident yet?'

'Of course I have, sir'

Mr. Robertson bended down and examined Oscar's eyes.

'Sincerely?'

'Yes, now can I please be excused?'

"Why so eager? Have you got some place else to be?' Mr. Robertson laughed teasingly. It was common knowledge that the children of the West End Orphanage were never allowed to leave.

Oscar sighed. He hopped anxiously from his left foot to his right.

'I need to go for a run round the building, I've eaten three pies this afternoon and I'm feeling at least 3 pounds heavier, sir.' Mr. Robertson's expression didn't change at first. Then, he chuckled for a fleeting moment before returning to his usual dark demeanour.

'What exactly did you say to the boy, Oscar?'

'I informed him I deeply regretted everything I said and done and I will never commit such morbid offences towards him ever again. I explained I had been feeling low due to of lack of sleep, which he understandingly nodded to, and I will be testing a new anti-insomnia technique tonight, which will hopefully prevent further incidences relating to my sleep deprivation in the future.' Oscar's explanation seemed to fall upon deaf ears as Mr. Robertson continued to stare at him, as if still waiting. Fortunately, Mr. Parks had been following Mr. Robertson up the stairs.

'Well I guess you couldn't ask for much more than that, right Bart?' He piped up. Mr. Robertson turned around to see the sickeningly (in his opinion) bright face of Mr. Parks.

'I suppose' he said, but his narrowed eyes told Oscar something different. 'You win this time. You are excused-'

Before he finished his sentence, Oscar took off in a sprint. He signed his name in the outbook as messily as he had ever at reception. He suddenly worried that the signature was evidence and hoped that nobody decided to keep tabs on him. Even George's dusty little brain could deduce that he had been up to something.

Oscar burst through the faded blue, rotting wooden doors at the front of the hostel and scurried down the old stone steps to the path. He stopped to look back at the building, thinking. He looked towards the big, padlocked steel gate and wondered what it would be like to finally unlock it's big rusty doors into the outside world. 

This hostel was built in 1895, and it had barely changed. The bare brick walls were not ugly, but combined with the peeling old fence and the overgrown grass, the front of the building was not exactly appealing. The reception area was basic, pretty much just a desk, a piece of paper and a pen, with old, batty Mrs. Turner slouching behind it, peering over the top of her pointy specs every time somebody went to sign the sheet. Oscar begrudged the hostel and the staff, and the residents. Every inch of it made him feel homesick, but for what home? He did not know. Anywhere but there, he guessed.

The area next to the hostel was quite charming. Every house and business had been renovated within the last ten years. The hostel was like an unsightly boil on the pretty, middle-class, white house lined street.

'ARGH.' Oscar gritted his teeth and grasped his left ankle. A shooting pain had startled him, but he didn't have the time to figure out what it was. He breathed deep breaths through the pain and continued pacing as fast as he could.

'OI! BOY!' A chill ran down his spine as Mr Park's steely voice pierced through his thoughts. Okay, I definitely don't have time for this. He tried accelerating a little and a little more until he was almost running.

'BOY! OSCAR ODELL GET BACK HERE THIS INSTANT!' Growled Mr. Parks from the front door. He didn't even stop to glance back as he did it. He turned around quickly and sprinted towards the gate without even thinking and grabbed its peeling, disgusting poles with both hands, hauling himself over the top, and not daring for one second to look back.