A Constable's Stalker

Chapter 7: I Don't Understand

Are ya ready kids!? No? WELL WE'RE DOING IT ANYWAY!

-Arthur's POV-

I shakily sit at the round, wooden table, making sure to keep my eyes downward as to avoid the psychopath's gaze. I hear the sizzle of something probably delicious, and a whistling of London Bridge coming from my right. This continued for a while, before I heard a plate clunk in front of me. I tilt up my head to see a blue ceramic plate with sunny side up eggs and some bacon with a cup of freshly brewed coffee. The aroma steaming from the drink and meal is rather enticing, since I've barely eaten in a while.

It reeks of V-Meat.

That and the chef who cooked it is what's stopping me from ravaging the food in an instant. This lunatic did god knows what to it; did god knows what to me! And now he actually expects me to eat his food?! I just stared at it as the constable sat across from me with his own plate. I can tell he's staring at me, waiting for me to choke on his good cooking.

"Come now. It's only eggs and bacon." He quips to me cheerily.

His words snap me out of my trance. "I didn' do anything to it in case you're wondering." He picks up his fork and knife and cut into his eggs.

I don't feel safe around him with that knife in his hand. Or any utensil for that matter. I glance back at my food; I really don't believe he did absolutely nothing to it. If he didn't, then I get to enjoy a good meal. If he did, I can finally get the peace I deserve, it's a double win. However, if I don't, then I could stick around to see what happens when he gets impatient for me not wanting to receive what he worked so hard on. I internally shrug and pick up my fork, digging into the bacon first.

Hm...not too bad for what's essentially another man's flesh.

We sat in silence for some time; I've finished my plate rather quickly. My host must've noticed it too, I could've sworn I heard a swift chuckle from his end of the table. He's probably finding it amusing how I'm eating like it won't be my last meal of the day. I've picked it up from having mini meals every now and then. A cup of tea is meant to be savored, but sometimes I'd chug down a whole cup in seconds just to save time and quench my dry throat. I chug down my coffee and hope it'll last me long enough for a later escape. But at the same time, hoping it'll only last until torture time comes. I don't wanna have the boost keep me awake to endure the process for too long.

Harvey breaks the silence. "So, a Dex Downer eh? That's a rather spectacular title, don't you think?"

I dare myself to make eye contact with him and try not to sound like an imp."W..well, yea I guess. I'm not exactly the one who...gave myself that name."

"Mhm, another extravagant concoction by Dr. V I say. Along with his Peepers and such." His brows scrunch up at saying the mad doctor's name.

My brows scrunch at the name too, we must share a common dislike for doctors. "Ha...most of his inventions are not even his, so...I wouldn't say another." I attempt a small smile.

Harvey's brows raise in surprise. "Oh? You mean to tell me he's not responsible for all these wonderful gadgets of his?"

"Uh...yea. Ever heard of a Dr. Faraday?"

He knits his brows and sips his coffee. "I do recall a Dr. Faraday doin' research in an undisclosed location." He pauses for a minute. " What? You mean this Faraday's the real artist at work?"

I nod. "Yea. I met her myself whilst running about in Eel Pie. And she says those designs were hers."

"Oh, a woman specialist! Well, that's somethin' you don't see everyday. Except for maybe Ms. Boyle, but she's kind of a...outlier."