Part 1

Chapter 1

Ji-Yoon Park

“All good things must end,” she stared wistfully at the final bite of crème brulee.

“God you’re so dramatic when you’re drunk!”

“You guys are drunk? Come on I need you all to focus if we’re going to win this thing.”

“No need,” Claire glanced over at their friend standing at one end of the bar, her dark head cocked to the side as she listened to the booming voice of the quiz master. “We have Jennie.”

They didn’t have to wait long.

“A conquering virtue!” she suddenly yelled triumphant and far more confident than her opponent across the bar.

The pub fell silent, all eyes rolling to the quiz master and the piece of paper in his hand.

“The red team gets in first. Tell me young lady, for the pot of £102 do you lock in your answer?”

“I do.”

“Ladies and gents, madame... Congratulations because you are correct!”

Uproar exploded from all four corners of The Punch Tavern, as men and women alike flooded to congratulate the winners.

“Holy shit Jennie how on earth did you know that?” Claire grabbed Jennie by the arm and steered her away from the commotion and back to their table.

“She cheated, only someone like you could have guessed that.”

“It’s called intellect, Johnathon. I would hope a fellow editor of the most renowned publishing firm in Britain would have some.”

“Tell me one other person who knows famous Geoffrey Chaucer quotes and I’ll be convinced.”

Jennie collapsed back into her seat, and signalled the young man at the bar who practically vaulted in his eagernessit to get to her side.

“We’ll take another round, on me,” she winked at her friends who hollered loudly as she passed over their winnings.

“I get some too, but I barely answered a single question?”

Johnathon eyed the bright-eyed man to his right with a wicked kind of smile that made them blush instantly. “Oh, you don’t know? Sweet, sweet... Sorry, what was your name again? Everyone gets a share. Or Jennie would be not only the wealthiest editor at Shillings but al—”

“You better not be spreading rumors, Jonno!”

“Wouldn't dream of it, Jennie baby,” Johnathon wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pointed an unsteady finger back at the boy, Oliver. “As I was saying, this young lady while I’ll admit she is skilful. She is actually a scam!”

“Johnathon, I swear if you don’t get off her now, I’ll assume the worst,” Claire snatched Jennie back and pressed a tall glass of something colorful into her hand.

“I’m going to call it in before he actually says something truthful.”

Jennie smiled wide as she passed her glass to Oliver, who took it with a shy smile and bow of the head. No doubt still in awe of being invited out for their monthly quiz night after only two weeks on the job.

“Jennie noooooooooo, you can’t leave us,” Sarah whined detaching herself momentarily from the fresh meat she’s snagged in the first round of the quiz some time ago.

“They’re announcing tomorrow remember, I need to make a good impression as one of the candidates.”

“The front runner more like. Come on Jennie you’ve got the role in the bag, stay a while.”

“Have fun,” Jennie waved off her friends, exchanging brief words with other patrons of the pub before she finally stepped out into the cool night air.

Tugging her coat high to protect her neck from frigid wind and ever-present rain, Jennie scanned the street and was immediately greeted by the honk of a taxi as it rolled to a stop at her feet.

“Taxi miss, half price?”

“Yes please, oh you’re a lifesaver,” Jennie clambered inside and told him her address; she didn’t usually spoil herself with a cab, but the night’s winnings would cover a half-price bill. “Who knows how long I would have been standing there.”

“Something tells me not long at all Miss,” the cabbie tipped his cap and sped off into the traffic.

Jennie pulled out her phone, sending a few texts to various colleagues of their win and answering a couple of party invites. She was accepting a rather lavish invite to an author's gala next week when something slid across the cabbie floor and bumped into her stiletto.

“Ummm sir, I think someone left this in your cabbie,” Jennie held up the sleek leather wallet to the window for him to see, only for the cabbie to shrug and continue driving.

“People gonna leave what they want, none of my business. What’s that saying...”

“Finder's keepers,” Jennie supplied flipping open the wallet and regarding the ID inside of an older-looking gentleman looking as if he’d just swallowed a boiled sweet and found it sour.

“Right, you are. And here we are! Mind your head on the way out.”

Jennie stepped out of the taxi, money in hand only for the cabbie to smile and wink before speeding off without a backward glance. Jennie watched him go for a second before turning to her apartment building and her toasty warm apartment.

“For fucks sake!”

Startled she whirled around to see a little man skidding to a halt on the street. He was bent over double and wheezing as if he’d just run from one side of Bank station to the other. It was hard to judge in the rain but Jennie guessed he was in his late 50’s, a study raincoat in olive green protecting him from the downpour. Without warning their eyes met and the man started to head her way.

“Oh Miss, you wouldn’t happen to know that taxi’s heading, would you?” the man was so out of breath that Jennie almost didn’t hear him. “I just took it from Fulham and tracked it here. My wallet was in—”

“You wouldn’t happen to mean this wallet, would you?” Jennie smiled kindly holding up the wallet to the man. Now that he didn’t have his head between his knees, she recognized him immediately from the ID.

The man’s face transformed immediately. “You sweet angel, yes, yes so honest your kind of people. Thank you, how can I ever repay you? Oh here.”

Jennie frowned as he rooted through the wallet, pulling out several purple notes before she could stop him.

“Oh no sir, please keep your money. It was the least I could do.”

The man contemplated her for a moment, eyeing her up and down before relenting with a shrug. “If you insist, so honest you lot. In that case, have a good one miss.”

Jennie watched him walk away until she felt a cool drip of rain slide down her collar, prompting her to abandon her watch, punch in the code for her building, and duck inside.

Calamity

On the other side of London, a tall gentleman dressed in black from head to toe walked the streets in the rain. People rushed past him, desperate attempts to keep dry. But not him, why bother when the rain couldn’t touch him.

As he passed, a young woman her head bent over her phone suddenly coughed realizing she now had a cold despite taking pro-vitamins every day for a month. When he bumped into a group of young men, they all suddenly noticed they’d lost their wallets. As he crossed the street a car’s engine died and it smashed into the car in front. He ignored the smarming crowds and continued, streetlights flickering in time with the click of his boots on the pavement.

“Excuse me, sir, could you spare a moment of your time t—”

The gentleman was yanked to a halt by a scrawny-looking man, dirt on his face and a desperate look in his eye. The second his hand wrapped around his forearm; he staggered back one hand over his nose to stem the gushing flow of blood.

“Filthy,” The gentleman sneered wiping his arm with leather-clad fingers before turning on his heel and continuing towards the sounds of blaring sirens and alarmed shouts.

“Threatened to set fire—”

“—several injured, others critical.”

“—ho does such a thing?”

The gentleman slipped past the gathered crowd of wide-eyed idiots and approached the ambulance unhindered by any of the police or medics. The back doors were wide open, a gurney protruding from the back, rocking as a man tried to get free from his restraints.

“You people don’t understand. I had to! I was called upon by the heavens. And you will all pay for getting in my way! Who are you? Another Satan worshiper?”

The gentleman leaned over the gurney, his black eyes surveying the restraints.

“Answer me, devil!”

“Oh, I’m no devil,” he said at last pale fingers sliding free of his leather gloves. With careless grace, he placed it atop the man’s quivering chest. “I am far worse.”

By the time the medics returned to their patient, the gentleman was gone a corpse left in his wake.

***

“Finished already?”

“Why wait?”

“Surely someone like you, with all the time in the world should know the answer to that.”

“I could say the same to you.”

The gentleman came to a stop beside the young woman standing in the center of the Millennium Bridge. The rain didn’t fall here, and the bridge was deserted, a trick of hers no doubt, and the gentleman relished for a moment against the railing. A slight breeze tickled his hair, he should cut it, sending his coat and her white dress billowing.

“You think yourself above them.” It wasn’t a question, and the gentleman turned his head to the sky before answering.

“And you don’t?”

“How can I, when I love them.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“If you read the book, you’ll find my love in black and white.”

“Why would I read a book that doesn’t even include me.”

“History is written by the victors.” the woman folded her arms on the railing and rested her head atop them, the sparkling skyline reflected in her shimmering white and his coal black. “Anything unsavoury tends to be cut or forgotten.”

“Is that what I am? Unsavoury.”

“Not to me, I created you just like the rest of them.” the woman looked up at him then and smiled, the same gentleness a mother reserved for her child.

“And I’m assuming you still won't tell me why,” The gentleman grumbled, reaching into his pocket for a beaten flask which he took a long swig from.

“Why ask when you know the answer,” the woman shrugged, smug and all-knowing as ever. “But since it is the anniversary, I’ll give you a hint.”

The man almost dropped his flask, wide eyes fixating on her as she stepped towards him.

“The answer to your future lies in your past”

Silence.

“A hint is supposed to be helpful!” he spat

“And this is not?”

“You know it isn't, we’ve lived for over a thousand years, our pasts are endless.”

The woman smiled stepping back without an ounce of fear despite the gentleman’s growing rage.

“And so are our futures.” she clasped her hands before taking one last look towards the city in the distance. “You have all the time in the world.”

The gentleman slammed his fist against the railing in frustration as she walked away, tilting his head to the sky with a groan.

“So much for her having all the answers. Humans are so full of shit.”

His voice resonated with the heavy thud of his boots, bulbs shattered, and the Thames bellow shifted and churned sending boats rocking wildly against their tethers.

“I am Calamity, I am doom, and I curse you and your precious humans until the end of time.”