Darren Craske - The equivoque principle

Ignorant of the attention they had attracted, Miller and Twinkle shuffled along the street. Just then, a pained expression crossed over the giant's face, and he clutched at his stomach. He was giddy on his feet, unusually so for a man his size and he looked around for something to steady himself upon. His legs began quaking at the knees, threatening to give way at any second. Miller squinted into the misty half-light, staring down at Twinkle as her tiny form shifted in and out of focus. Colours blended into a wash of muddy mire, and suddenly everything around him seemed to lack definition and solidity. He doubled over as a sudden wave of nausea flowed over his body.

'Oh, my poor sweetie,' Twinkle said, standing on tip-toes to pat Miller's back, as the large man-mountain vomited noisily into the gutter.

Miller the strongman lifted his heavy head, his eyes rolling madly, and suddenly collapsed onto his knees. This was unlike any inebriation he had experienced in his life. He felt like he was a marionette, and someone was snipping his strings, one by one. His large frame overpowered him, an unseen pressure forcing him down onto the cold dampness of the cobbled street. The dim of the night stole what little light he could visualise as he grabbed at Twinkle's dress, desperate to find something solid to hang onto. He mouthed empty, silent words, as he searched deeply into her green eyes, pleading for her help.

Miller was suddenly aware of a dark shadow falling over him from behind. Before blacking out, the last thing he saw was Twinkle's terrified face as she raised her arm to protect herself. In the midst of confusion, the man known in the circus as Prometheus heard her piercing screams, as unconsciousness draped itself over his body like a heavy, wet tarpaulin.

BERNIE YATES SAYS they've been there since first light, Sarge,' said the young police constable. Twinkle's body was laid on her stomach across Miller's back, with her arms folded beneath her and fine splatters of blood polka-dotting her blonde hair. In the light of the early morning, the entwined couple resembled stone statues in a mausoleum, bathed in an azure glow. 'I ain't ever seen the likes of it before. Look at the state of 'em.'

'I'm looking, Jennings. The Commissioner's going to go spare now,' said Sergeant Horace Berry, poking at the bodies with his truncheon. 'This one's the third victim in as many nights. At least this time it looks like the killer didn't get away,' he said, scowling at Miller's unconscious form lying in the gutter. 'So how come I don't feel lucky, eh? Jennings, lad, get yourself back to the station. Bring back some men and a couple of body-carriers,' he said, as he sized up Miller's vast body. 'On second thoughts, you'd better make that three.'

'Right you are, Sarge,' said Constable Jennings, and he sprinted off amid the throng of onlookers and workers, surrounding the docks in the early morning light.

'Come on, folks, move on back. Go about your business now, g'wan,' the sergeant said, as he glared at the assembling crowds. 'Isn't it too early for you ghouls?'

The night sky was lazily making way for the day, and a cold November breeze rattled into Crawditch, lifting clouds of mist up into spiralling swirls in its wake. Sergeant Berry pulled out his pocket-watch and cursed. It was coming up to seven in the morning, and he'd only just come on shift half-an-hour ago. Berry had been hoping for a hot brew before he had to get his hands dirty. Sliding his helmet further back on his head, he mopped at his brow with a white handkerchief.

In his late forties, Berry had been with the Metropolitan Police since its inception over twenty years before, and had been a paid constable for ten years prior to that. In all that time, he thought he had witnessed the gamut of human criminality and depravity, but this was something different; he could feel it. One grisly murder was bad enough, two were a dreadful shame, but three? Three dead women in as many days meant that they were looking at something that would not easily dry up overnight. The paperwork alone could take a month. He stared down at the giant's face, inches from it, as if he were trying to read the man's thoughts as to what could possibly have occurred the previous night.

Suddenly, a tiny spark of consciousness lit within Miller's mind as he heard muffled voices around him. He tried to piece together his surroundings. His cheek was touching cold, damp, stone cobbles, and there was a weight upon his lower back. Miller cautiously flicked one eye open, then the next, and his bleary eyes came face to face with the eyes of a very shocked Sergeant Berry.

'What-What's all this?' Berry stammered, as his legs gave way beneath him, and he fell to the ground unceremoniously onto his backside. He kicked away from Miller as fast as he could against the damp cobbles. 'Hold it!' he yelled, scrambling to his feet. 'Don't you bloody move!'

Miller ignored Berry, desperately seeking sight of his beloved Twinkle. He half-turned his head, and noticed the shock of curly blonde hair, matted and caked in dark-red blood lying across his shoulder blades. He knew it was her instantly. If he were not already a mute, the pain in his heart would surely have stolen his words. Miller closed his eyes, trying to exclude the awful truth.

'Oi! I'm talkin' to you!' said Sergeant Berry, pacing up and down like a caged tiger. 'I asked you a question, mate. What's gone on here?'

Miller was in no position to be questioned. The policeman's words barely even penetrated his ears. He buried his head in his large hands and wept heavily and loudly, his gargantuan frame quivering as he sobbed uncontrollably. No matter how much strength his massive body was capable of, it failed him now. Every bone, every muscle, and every fibre of his being was mourning. The giant was broken.

'What happened here, eh? Did you do this?' Berry demanded with a fiery rage in his voice. He prodded Miller in the guts with his truncheon, and the giant twitched, whimpering like a cowering child. Twinkle's lifeless corpse slipped from his body, and rolled onto its back, its arms flapping open. Sergeant Berry stared at it and gagged. 'Of all the unholy…'

Twinkle's tiny, fragile body was horrifically disfigured, removing all semblance of the dwarf's personality, leaving behind a mere husk. Her dress had been sliced open down the middle, tearing through the material and gouging deeply through her undergarments, and into her chest beneath them. A bizarre death-mask adorned her face, transfixed into a grimacing, frozen scream. Blood was dried everywhere about her body, filling every crease of her clothes like a roadmap.

Sergeant Berry mopped at the corners of his mouth with a handkerchief. 'Look, I don't know who you are, or who she is…but you're coming with me to the station to sort this out, mister.' Berry turned as he heard a loud rattling noise coming closer to him, and was relieved to see three of his men approaching; pushing what looked like long wooden wheelbarrows. Each one stopped and gasped as they saw the scene before them.

'Bloody hell!' one of them said. 'You weren't joking, Jennings. What a mess.'

'You, men, get over here! Apprehend this…man immediately. A few hours locked in the cells should loosen his tongue,' Berry said, as he bravely squatted down next to Miller's tear-stained face, catching a flicker of light in the giant's eyes. 'You're going to pay for what you done, make no mistake about that! We don't take kindly to folk who murder little children here in Crawditch. You'll be hanging by your neck by suppertime!'

As Berry watched his men handcuff the giant and place Twinkle's corpse upon a body-carrier, something caught his eye down in the gutter. It was a small, crumpled piece of notepaper. Berry's natural detective instincts kicked in, and he picked it up. His grey eyes skirted from side to side across the paper, and he traced his fingers across the lines. 'What's all this then?' he said quietly under his breath. ' "I will unleash a terror unlike any seen before, and the corpses of your loved ones will litter the streets."' Berry cursed, and folded the note into his pocket. 'Oh, the Commissioner is just going to be cock-a-hoop about this!'