Blackout (WIP)

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ShmanfordFly 16/12/09 (Wed) 23:09:12 #93655104


Gordon Cummins killed 28 people. Maybe more. I've done as much reading as I can, but there could well be more out there I didn't find. Regardless, he killed at least that many, and I've tracked down the police records to prove it.

Four are public knowledge. Evelyn Hamilton, strangled by hand. Evelyn Oatley, also strangled, with her throat cut and her body mutilated. Margaret Lowe, strangled with a stocking and cut to bits with upwards of a dozen different tools. Doris Jouannet, strangled with a scarf and — once again — found with her body scattered about her flat.

[…]

Here's what I like to imagine happened.

In ####, Cummins was sentenced by a fearful jury, desperate to get him out of their lives. Or, as I understand it, out of their heads. The evidence against him is outstanding; his defence, untenable. In that coutroom, they condemn him to death.

So that month he's moved to Wandsworth, a dead man walking, and there he waits for the sentence to be carried out. Planes move overhead as various sirens shriek their alarm. He walks out into the yard, night surrounding him — it's the blackout, of course, so there's only minimal lighting. Maybe a torch or two in the hands of the guards. He stands silent with a noose around his neck, and all over London people are jerked awake by the noise.

Everywhere but [place].

Then he falls, whatever god or devil has claim to his soul takes it, and the guards make their way to the nearest shelter under cover of darkness. The next morning, bleary-eyed and weary, London resumes its daily trudge towards victory, and the world, by and large, moves on.

Except [place]. [place] never heard the sirens on the night Cummins died. [place] stayed quiet throughout that night, and throughout the following day. Over the next few years, as the battles come and go, it's forgotten entirely. Shopping centres and car-parks eventually cover it. Old houses are used as supports for new roadways. In 1994, Liam Sorville falls from a scaffolding nobody acknowledges, and in 2004, he emerges.

I don't know what he saw down there, and don't have nearly enough data to speculate. There's a big hole in those ten years, and I'll be the first to admit that I dont know what fills it. But my guess is that he woke something up. It's no coincidence that the records are starting to crop up more and more. […]

My flight leaves tomorrow, so I'm going to turn in pretty shortly. If anyone else has any information that might be useful, feel free to post it below. As always, tips for helping insomnia would be welcomed.

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