Even Heroes Fall

Chapter Seventeen - Ghoul

I wake up still fully dressed lying on top of my mattress in my flat in Harrow. My head feels like a hundred elephants are throwing a party in there, my mouth is dry, and my whole body aches. Although the previous night is now a blur I must have consumed at least four bottles of alcohol in order to have achieved a hangover this bad. My super-metabolism and healing, which is triggered by sleep, has not helped me on this occasion to recover fully. Which is a first. And I feel like death.

I realise it is not the sun streaming in through the window (I never got around to putting up curtains) that woke me up but the sounds of someone thumping on my front door. I slide off my bed, my Ghoul outfit is rumpled and stinks of whisky and vodka. Urgh, was I mixing too? What is wrong with me? Am I really that miserable and alone I have resorted to getting completely trashed out of my brain to try and numb the pain?

I am not thinking completely clearly so I stagger over to the front door and fling it open, angry at being woken up before I can fully sleep off the hangover from Hell.

'What?' I shout at the individual standing outside my door, and the answer comes in the form of a knife.

My reflexes are fucked after the amount of alcohol I consumed the night before so I don't fully react until the blade is lodged uncomfortably in my shoulder. I stumble backwards, taking the knife with me, as my assailant charges with a second knife, a look of determination on his face. This time I manage to avoid being stabbed again but not before I trip over my coffee table and go flying backwards with a loud crash.

The people in the flat next to mine hammer on the thin wall between us shouting at me to "shut the fuck up". God I fucking hate London.

Before my attacker can charge again I manage to grab him by the front of his jacket and hoist him up easily.

'Who sent you?' I snarl. I don't recognise him but he could easily be just another criminal working for Castlemain.

'Who do you think?' he sneers back, completely unbothered by my show of strength or the fact he stuck a knife in me and I am still moving.

'Now is not a good day!' I shout, not caring about upsetting the neighbours as I figured they are already pissed at me. I throw him easily across the room and into my TV which shatters loudly from the impact. 'Get the fuck out of my flat!' I roar as he scrambles to his feet, looking unsatisfyingly not scared.

As he scurries through my open flat door I am faced with the very real dilemma that Castlemain may have found my location. It means I am no longer safe here to sleep and recover from my injuries. Grumpily I go into the bedroom and throw what few belongings I actually have into a bag, before going into the bathroom where the mirror is to remove the knife in my shoulder. I grit my teeth as I yank it out. Easy to remove, but still hurts like a bitch. Now I have a knife covered in my blood, just great. After wrapping the wound as best I can with a bandage I wash the knife, wash the blood away, and then stash the knife into my bag just in case. Sure, my fingerprints are all over this flat, but they are less valuable than my actual blood.

I stomp moodily through the flat door. My neighbour has emerged from his flat and is standing in the small corridor between our doors in his dressing gown, cigarette between his lips.

'I've had enough of your noise!' he snaps. 'I'm reporting you to the landlord, and calling the police!' he adds, when his gaze falls to the trashed interior of my flat behind me.

'Good!'I snap back, not caring anymore about being polite. 'I'm fucking leaving.' As I storm past him down the stairs I can hear him muttering something about "fucking white people!".

Around the back of the flat building is my bike which miraculously has not been stolen. I climb onto it but then realise I have nowhere to go. A moment later, my phone is vibrating with a message and I am surprised to find it is from Justice, when only yesterday she turned down my offer to hang out and now she wants to? In her message she mentions some industrial estate near Deptford, South side of the river, which is the main area I know Castlemain has been taking over the criminal businesses, so probably this impromptu meeting is about that.

When I arrive the industrial estate is quiet due to it being the weekend. I park my bike between some stacks of crates and toss a sheet over it hoping no local kids will notice. Justice's message gives the location of a specific warehouse so I stride among the identical looking buildings until I find the correct one. I break open the lock and stride inside. It is dimly lit and I cannot see anyone else around, nevermind Justice. My morning encounter, the hangover, and pain in my shoulder has left me short-tempered so I am in no mood to take any bullshit. However, the prospect of finally getting some leads on Castlemain from the one person in this city who might actually be able to help me, gives me hope.

I hear her coming before I see her, which is lucky because I've already survived one surprise attack today. She silently drops from the ceiling - what is it with her and hiding in ceilings??

I manage to dodge aside at the last moment, avoiding being skewered by a set of Sai - the trident-like daggers favoured by Japanese-style martial arts. Despite missing me, she does not stumble, but merely spins around on her feet lightly and faces me once more.

'Justice? What the fuck?'

'Murderer!' She launches herself at me again.

My movements are still slower than usual, combined with my brain trying to process what is happening, and although I manage to block a few of her strikes, one slices across my chest and the wound of my shoulder. I double back, wincing in pain.

'Who the Hell am I supposed to have murdered?' I demand angrily.

Justice's energy seems unrelenting, and it is only when she attacks again and I manage to grab one of the daggers and snatch it out of her hand, that she finally pauses to take a breath.

'Theodore Devereux,' she bites out. 'You murdered him.'

I stare at her in surprise. Firstly that Devereux is supposedly dead, and secondly that Justice would take his death this personally.

'I can assure you, I did not kill him,' I reply through gritted teeth. I am somewhat alarmed to see blood dripping down my arm, an unusual sight for me, and a clear sign I have not had time to rest and heal.

Justice attacks again, this time I am ready, I manage to land a hit and in an echo of our first encounter she flies backwards into some crates.

'Liar!' She gets to her feet. 'You ripped his heart out!'

'What?' My blood runs cold at her very words and when she jumps towards me I reach out and snatch both her arms, using my strength to hold her in place. This close I can see she is breathing heavily and trembling all over, her eyes burning with rage under her mask. This is more than a matter of Justice. This is personal.

My sleep-deprived, hungover brain, is trying to process all this information. But suddenly I have a pretty good idea who is underneath her mask. A cute little PA working for the Mayor, who also happens to be Theodore Devereux's daughter.

'I swear to you, it was not me.' I am amazed at how I am managing to keep my voice so steady given the circumstances of this encounter, and how my day is going so far. 'If I was truly capable of that, don't you think I would have killed you by now?'

'You are strong enough!' she spits out, just not getting it.

'Maybe I am, but it does not mean I would.' I take a few breaths to steady my own anger. 'I did not kill Devereux... but I think I know who did.'

'Who?' She stops struggling, perhaps finally my words are sinking in. I don't release her, though, just in case. She is looking at me, waiting for an explanation. Waiting for an answer that will satisfy her. I have to be honest but I don't know how much I can tell her without putting Justice in danger.

Finally I say, 'Castlemain.'