Dominic took the long way back, sticking to back allies and walkthroughs. Being caught with a bag full of stolen goods was not particularly high on his to do list for the day.
When he made his way back to where he had parked his ship, he was astonished to find a group of Blue Coat Officers standing around something. Dominic stayed ducked behind a pile of crates, not wanting the Blue Coats to see him- he wasn't exactly fond of the enforcers of the law- and listened.
"'Bout how long, ya think?" One - a rather tall and awkward shaped fellow- asked. Another officer was crouched as if he was examining something on the ground.
"Hard to tell, an hour, maybe two." The grounded officer spoke. A man and woman- courting, most likely- walked nearby, and two of the officers broke off from the pack to confront the couple, allowing a space for Dominic to see through.
He gasped audibly at the site before him; a man lay sprawled across the dock. His legs and arms arranged about him in a strange manner. The man's eyes were open but glazed over with death: unseeing. His skin was a deathly pale gray, like old eggshells.
But what had shocked him above all else: the man's left hand was gone, leaving behind a disgusting bloodied stump at the wrist.
His legs became horribly tangled with the crates as he attempted to back up, in shock, sending him, and two very large, very heavy, crates sprawling to the ground in a most untraceful manner.
YOU ARE READING
Murder In The Skies Of Britain
Science FictionRuffian. Ragamuff. Theif. Dominic Gruff Mclual has been called all of these things. He travels the vast skies in his faithful steamship, pilfering and conning. When he is accused by Blue Coats of a mysterious murder that he didn't commit, he finds h...
