He was here, Karl knew it, he could sense the evil
The chain had been cut and the link was hooked around the padlock to give the illusion of security. It came apart easily and the red metal door opened inwardly with a loud creaking sound. The station had been permanently closed for over twenty years, it was one of those landmarks that no-one ever noticed no more, and eventually it had blended into the walls with familiarity and decay.
He entered into the darkness. The air was dense with dust and grime and he could hear the rumble of tube trains in the distance. He clicked on his torch, the corridor lit up eerily; there was metal signage still on the walls and peeling posters all covered in a thin layer of black dust and from the ceiling thin strands of grey web hung limply - even the arachnids had given up hope.
Time had stood still and had captured the dank atmosphere of despair, the air was thick with it and Karl was struggling to breathe.
There were many places to hide. London was a maze of concrete tunnels, divided by steel girders and iron structures where dossers and addicts, beggars and thieves housed.
And now Jack was there, he was blending in - he was the gargoyle carved on the highway wall, he was the cold steel of railway railings, he was the echo of distant chains, warning of ominous deaths to come.
He was in the atmosphere and people were frightened - they knew he was not like the others, he held an aura of invincibility - they huddled together in distant groups talking of him in whispers as if he was able to hear and would come in the dark of night to punish them.
Karl stood at the Embankment underground, watching the people emerge. He was upright, emotionless - staring intently.
London was paved with grime and vomit, overcrowded and stench filled, scavengers of the world were feeding off the carcass of this dead town.
