Darkness Among Us

This story has been written for the City of Bones Movella Competition.

In the dark days of Victorian London, 16 year old Kalin Fletcher meets new boy Alexander Finn in town.

A strong friendship blossoms between the two, but soon Kalin and Alexander begin to find out that there's more to the mysterious city of London that meets the eye.

There's something lurking beneath the shadows.

This is book 1 in my 'InkWorks' book series.


2. Alexander Finn


“That’s a library. That’s the Houses of Parliament. That’s the Palace of Westminster. That’s the London Eye. That’s Buckingham Palace. And that’s Big Ben.” I say to the new boy.

“Um, we haven’t really had a proper introduction yet, Kalin. My name is Alexander Finn, but just call me Alex. I’m 17. And I was born in Canada.”

“Hi, Alex. My name is Kalin Fletcher and I’m 16. I live in London. But you knew that already.”

“Yeah. But I was thinking, aren’t we supposed to go on a tour bus or something? I mean, you’re not really showing me around London. We’re outside a souvenir shop looking at postcards.”

“You’re missing the point, Alex! They’re London postcards! Not Canada postcards. Therefore, I am showing you around London.”

“You’re a strange person. I like that. We could become great friends. And not like those cheesy movies when the best friend is in love with the other friend. I literally do not have feelings for girls. And I’m NOT gay.”

“You sure aren’t, Alex, you sure aren’t. But hey, I have a lot of pocket money to spare. Want some post cards?”

Alex produces a £50 note. “Let’s rock this souvenir shop.”

Minutes later, we come out with bags of products brandished with the Union Jack, laughing.

“Alex, you are a laugh. We should totally hang out more often.”

“Sounds good. How about we go to my house and watch The Artist? I have it on tape.”

“Okay. Meet you there. See ya.”

We go into our houses. I spend all day reading my favourite book, Great Expectations, for the 10th time. It’s a thing in my family. My father’s father got the book for him, and my father passed it to my mother. When he died, my mother gave the book to me. They’ve always loved the book. It’s a thing.

At about 7 in the evening, I go next door to Alex’s house, where he’s got the movie set up.

“What do you have prepared for dinner?” I say.

He shrugs. “Mother makes a killer chicken sandwich.”

“Bring it on,” I smirk.

After watching black and white movies all night, time grew to 10 o’clock.

The streets are quiet, and a smash hit’s Alex’s wall. We scream and clutch each other, and chicken sandwiches go flying.

“Did you just hear that?!” Alex shrieks.

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