𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞

𝐀 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

┍.❉*･°｡.───✿───.｡°･❉*.┑

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪ

┖.❉*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.───✿───.*｡･ﾟ❉*┙

°•.Winter of 1986.•°

Our story starts before the story even starts. 1986. It was a quite relaxed night for Richard Constella. An old man that everyone considered rather crazy due to his immense intelligence . His grandson, Apollo Constella has just recently been born and everyone was celebrating. Not Richard. Oh no,he was a grumpy man,way too focused on his work to celebrate for a silly birth. There were going to be plenty of births but none inventions like his. His precious time was focused on the creation he much loved. One that was not only going to make them rich but he will also be able to travel in time..... There was only one problem left. It didn't work, oh no, not now but soon it sure as hell will.

As I said,1986. A cold winter hit England, snowflakes falling down on the freezing asphalt, a soft yet cold breeze lifting some of the gentle flakes from the ground and wandering them around once again even though it stopped snowing already. The church bells started ringing alarming everyone to wake up and go to work, even though most of the people were already pushing their way to work. It was a beautiful and mostly typical morning for the people of London, it wasn't even the slightest bit different. Richard felt the frustration to lift his upper body and search for his glasses on the nightstand with his taps eventually feeling the metal and lifting them up to his face. Turning his body towards the side of the bed he placed his heavy and hairy legs on the floor and with a slight growl of pain and frustration, he got up and with slow but sure steps he walked towards his  desk covered in newspaper, protocols, and the the finish machine on paper of course. As he sits down an annoying screech comes from the old wooden chair that has been used for centuries. He's been doing research on so many things but especially on the people that would get in his way,also deveoping methods of crushing them. No one could get in his way. He was gonna become the richest man in England even if he had to kill every single man in his way. Of course,he wasn't stupid,he was a man of tactic. He played chess and those who will try take him down,were gonna be the pawns that will be effortlessly taken out. His plan was ready to be put in action. Now you may ask yourself. How?How can a dirty old man like him become the richest man in England. It was easy. Take down the king. That king is Arnold Armstrong. The man that owned 70% of London. The cruel man who was known for his success but also his charms as a young man. Well he used to be young. Now he's just as old as Richard. Our not so sweet Richard. All he had to do was take him down. And it might sound easy....but it's not even close to being easy. Oh no. Arnold Armstrong was not easy to be taken down,not even with the help of an army. All he had to do was nod and everyone would die. But Richard was willing to confront him.

He got up from his messy and way too dusty desk and put his rather expensive coat on. A person like him could never afford something like that. It was stolen of course. He walks out of his study with hurried steps then shut the door closed locking it. No one was allowed in his study. His research was top secret and had to remain that way. He opens his green painted wooden door,then shuts it closed with a thud as he places his pitch black hat on. He walks to the edge of the street making a sign to a cab in hope it would stop. Eventually a taxi stops as he opens the door and sits inside closing it after him with a small thud. A sigh escaped his lips as he looked at the driver waiting for an address