darker_london | And so it begins (Peter, Thomas) (Rating: Slightly ooky)

Peter just knew it was the damn Templar. Only they would want to cause this kind of mass hysteria. This particular hysteria with bloody rivers and who knew what else. Peter knew that when the Nile ran red, it was the first of the plagues of Egypt. The context, however, was not the same. That had been because the Pharaoh wouldn't set the Jews free. This was just something that was easily recognisible as a religious symbol. Something to prey on people's fears. Besides, Peter couldn't exactly see the Templar releasing frogs on to the streets of London and hoping people prayed...

But people were praying about this. News footage of the new hue of the Thames was everywhere, on every channel. Crowds had assembled at it's banks to gawk and cry. Churches were jammed with people, frantic to repent. The Templar were getting exactly what they wanted. And Peter knew it couldn't possibly be the end of their charade. There was more. He'd dreamed it. Almost constantly, now.

Thomas was clearly nervous as they approached the abandoned Templar hideout's entrance. Peter didn't blame him. Thomas was built like a brick wall, but that meant little when you were suspended above a Judas chair. The Templar had done all they could to torture him. Bricks could crumble and bricks could crack and burn, same as everything else. "Thomas." Peter said, looking at him sideways. "You don't have to come in if you don't want."

"Bugger that." Thomas replied. "I'm not letting you go in alone." He moved closer to Peter, so they were walking shoulder to shoulder. Or close enough, as Thomas was taller.

"We can duck in through there." Peter led Thomas behind a pillar and then they both ducked into the hidden area the back door to the complex was. It wasn't locked. It wasn't even hard to open. Peter swung the door wide and then he stepped inside and shivered. The atmosphere of the place was enough to make one gag. "I wish we'd thought to bring Gavin...though...I would hate to bring him here."

"Still, you can never go awry with a tiny marksman." Thomas nodded sagely, and then he slipped his hand into Peter's. "What are we looking for?"

"Uhm. Blood." Peter admitted.

"Oh. Well there's tonnes of it up there." Thomas pointed above the ceiling where the Thames flowed.

"Yes..." Peter shook his head and they continued on, down the stairs where the air was stale and cold. And then Peter yelped and clapped a hand over his nose. "Oh my god!"

"It smells like Graheme's feet!" Thomas whimpered, following suit. The stench had just reached him. "Peter! What is it!?"

"Not Graheme's feet." Peter said flatly. He pulled his shirt up over his nose, and even then he gagged. "Fuck!" He pulled his face out of his shirt and he spit on the floor. "It's death."

"Ew! Did I smell like that?!" Thomas looked alarmed.

"Well...I didn't stick around to uhm...smell you." Peter sighed and he squeezed Thomas's hand. "I'm just...not going to breathe and see if that works."

"Oh! Hey! I don't have to breathe!" The look of jubilation that crossed Thomas's face at that recollection was cut short because they were still going to find dead people somewhere down here. And ew.

"Lucky bastard." Peter pulled Thomas onwards, where the stench only grew. By the time Peter was retching every three seconds, they figured they'd found the place. And they were right.

"This was here before." Thomas said, remembering the room from the frantic rescue of Nancy, Scarlett and poor Sharna. He stepped inside, surveying the deep vats which all led to an intricate knot of pipes. Thomas stood on his tiptoes and he peered over the edge. Then he immediately fell backwards, coughing and choking. "Peter! Don't look!"

Peter took a step back. "What what what is it!?" He flapped his hands about and then realised he should probably help his best friend off of his arse. So he did that.

"Dead. Dead people. Symbols. Carved into their heads. I...I don't know what they said..."

Peter closed his eyes, though he stopped himself from taking a deep breath. Then he stepped towards the vat and he peered over the edge too. Reeling back, he leaned up against the wall as a coughing fit took him over as well. It was a mass of dead people. Every possible area that could be slit, had been. They filled the vats. And the vats filled the room. And the blood had drained from the bodies into the pipes. And Peter knew where the pipes had to lead. All over the Thames. "Aramaic." Peter gasped.

"What?!"

"The carvings. Aramaic. Sins. They...they record the people's sins." Murderer, adultress, harlot, thief all of them had been marked. "Let's go." Peter had seen enough. And in about 20 minutes, the police would too. Peter pulled Thomas from the room quickly. "They...they disobeyed their own laws. They're supposed to burn heretics.

And then an alarm sounded. Peter's eyes flicked up to the lights that ran along the ceiling. The red emergency light had come to life, flashing red. The alarm continued to blare and Peter faced Thomas frantically. "Why do I not like that sound?!" He squeaked.

"Run!" Thomas grabbed Peter's hand and he pulled his best friend towards the door they'd come in from. The stairs slowed them down slightly, but they didn't stop until they had reached the outside. And only just in time.

From deep within the hideout, there came a rumbled. The vats had all closed and a fire had started in each of them, what had once been part of the cleaning process. When the fires started, the bodies erupted in flame. More flame that the vats could handle. It took over the room, burning everything in it's wake except the walls, which were made of concrete far too thick to penetrate. But if Peter and Thomas had been in there at the time...

Thomas held Peter as Peter fought to catch his breath, and he looked at the door with shadowed eyes. "Well. Uhm. They burned them."

Peter looked up at Thomas, giving him a terrible look while he sucked in the freshest air London could offer at the moment. It was better than breathing rotted flesh. Yes. They'd burned the bodies. And the evidence.

Fucking Templar!