The Demon of London Read online

  The Demon of London

  Ayse Hafiza

  Copyright © 2017 by Ayse Hafiza

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  For those who ignore the whisper of the Demon.

  Contents

  1. The Demon

  2. The Betrayed

  3. The Schoolgirl

  4. The Big Man

  5. The Pendulum

  6. The Gambler

  7. The Professor

  8. The Babysitter

  9. The Couple

  10. The Little Girls

  11. The Young Man

  12. The Old Man

  13. The Mother in Law

  14. The Poor Man

  Also by Ayse Hafiza

  Afterword

  About the Author

  One

  The Demon

  Jassassah walked along Fleet Street late one evening on a warm summers' night. Passing tall historic gray buildings, she planned to head to the nightclubs of Covent Garden and decided to take the scenic route along the street to reminisce. Very rarely did she allow herself time to be nostalgic, but she wanted to savor the moment because London held so many fond memories. She took a breath and sucked the air deep into her lungs, she reflected that these days the roads were significantly cleaner and the air far less fetid.

  She loved walking along Fleet Street. All the traditional newspapers had started life on this street, all the many lies that she’d inspired the journalists to tell had been printed here. Jassassah rubbed her hands with glee as she thought of them. The big bends in truth that were printed in the newspapers had been part of her lesser victories, but none the less, they had allowed her to sharpen her claws and learn her trade.

  She continued walking until she stood next to the historic church. Jassassah especially enjoyed this spot, she paused in reverence. This was the area where it used to stand, the old barber shop, and bakery. Now in their place stood new modern shops. It was where she trained her infamous old friend Mr. Sweeney Todd, or the Demon Barber of Fleet Street as he later became known.

  Jassassah had been fond of him, they had been good friends. She remembered his bloodless, pale skin, malevolent dark eyes, and his flame red hair. When he swung from the hangman's noose, he looked the same as when he had been alive. Jassassah met him when he was a child. She was returning from tormenting prisoners who had been waiting for the executioner's ax when as a boy he caught her interest. He used to visit the Tower of London.

  She remembered the little red head boy loitering next to the torture implements on display. She could see in him a capacity for pure evil, everyone knew those torture instruments were put there to deter crime. But to him, they were inspirational, ingenious. Sweeney Todd was thoroughly misunderstood, in Jassassah eyes he was an artist, much like herself.

  He thought I was God, Jassassah giggled to herself as she remembered his respect for her. As their time together progressed, he grew to differentiate from his own demonic thoughts, and the whispers of her voice, but that didn't matter because he never once deviated from her advice.

  She used to whisper into his ear when he was shaving his customers, and he always got a crazed look for a split second beforehand. Jassassah knew what he was thinking sometimes even before he even did.

  ‘Go on, do it,’ she whispered to him. Her words more urgent than his own thoughts.

  Sweeney Todd could be counted on to comply. With a deft flick of his blade, the ruby red blood would pour, and his inventive chair would swivel to drop his unfortunate customer onto the stone cellar floor below. Victims would die there in silence alone. Jassassah always smiled when she said those words to him, she knew they would be followed by the sharp movement of his cold blade followed moments later by a deadly thud. She'd laughed with him through each of the one hundred and sixty deaths that he'd been responsible for.

  The darkness within his heart wasn't far from hers.

  Jassassah had found the Baker Mrs. Lovett. She helped pair them as lovers and business partners so they could dispose of the dead bodies into delicious meat pies, which became all the fashion in olden day London. It was the stench of rotting bones left in an ancient family crypt in the church that finally led to their capture, a minor mishap but otherwise, the murderous couple was unstoppable.

  Back then Jassassah was much younger. And frankly, she was affronted that mankind had attributed her art to mere mortals. Could a human man and woman have been as inventive as her? And indeed, turn half of London into cannibals.

  Upset at first, that her wit and skills had been misattributed, Jassassah had since grown to appreciate that evil in all forms was her only goal and not the flattery of her ego. Her devilish colleagues advised her that the best of demons stuck to the shadows, not making mankind aware of their existence. She had grown older and wiser now, and she didn't crave the fame as she did before, she walked past the newer shops with a knowing smile.

  With each footstep in historic London, Jassassah remembered the screams of the people whose lives she had tampered with. She reveled in it, as a testament to her art, skills, and power. As she walked, Jassassah remembered the corners on which she'd whispered to her victims, who in turn claimed their own victims, beggars, whores and the gentry, no one was immune.

  Evil people had an aura about them, a tinge in the light they emitted that hovered above their heads. Jassassah could see it, she could smell their sins on their skin. Tonight, the demon would follow that smell to see what mischief she could find. Jassassah walked past the city workers, tourists, and students who were hanging out of bars with bottles in their hands.

  She headed towards Covent Garden to watch the city people drink and dance. In London, Thursday night had become the new Friday night and that, for her as a demon, meant she would be busy. There's no rest for the wicked, and that's the truth.

  For the few who could see her, her disguise was that of an average office-based city worker, brown hair, highish heels, sensible skirt, and summer jacket. A young woman who you could easily walk past on the street, and never notice. Although invisibility was a cloak, she could turn on or off when she wanted. There were many differences between humans and demons, and that was one of them.

  Secretly Jassassah was irritated that she had to resort to coming to a nightclub. There were a great many things she was working on, but sometimes awesome things came from the humblest of beginnings, she told herself. She used any and every opportunity to remind other demons that her whispers were responsible for two world wars and that she was well on the way toward the third. Nevertheless, that wasn't breaking out on Thursday night in the club. The third world war still needed more to be done, more discord, distrust, and intrigue to be sown.

  Jassassah had been the one to infect people with the most basic belief of Satan. The belief that got him kicked out of Heaven. Satan had so much pride that he refused to acknowledge Adam, believing because he was made of fire and Adam of clay; that he was better than him. That superiority complex, that innate pride instilled itself in people today, how many people believed they are better than someone else. Nearly everyone. That was the door that allowed demons like Jassassah to enter.

  Jassassah found the club she was looking for. A large line formed outside. Jassassah tucked her long brown hair behind her ear, swiftly passed the bouncers and followed a group of young men into the club. She wasn't the type to wait in queues. People having fun were always far more suggestible, and well, that's where her fun began. Disparate office people, frien
ds, and people on dates, to an untrained eye it was the same old boring people watching.

  Only Jassassah the Demon could tell more about the people than you or me. She could look into their minds, hear their thoughts, know their feelings, and whisper her dark suggestions into their hearts.

  The club was dark, hot and the air stale. She could smell the scent of her old Arab friend, the demon Kuhl, or Alcohol as he was commonly known. Even though they'd started in the same place, Jassassah was envious of his success, as much as she tried she knew she couldn't compete with him anymore. That's the thing about demons, another name for their kind are genies because they display genius. Jassassah shook her head as she thought about how clever he'd been, he's started adding his essence to fermented dates in Arabia, and to grapes in Greece, and now he was everywhere in the world. He was in every single country, he'd undoubtedly outperformed all the other demons.

  That little Arab demon and his genius alchemy, he'd distilled his dizzy essence into cosmetics and drinks, targeting the human eyes of those that encountered him. Vanity and irresponsibility were his two ace cards. How was she meant to catch up? Jassassah sighed as she thought to herself.

  As she walked past people standing around, she could smell the false sweetness of his essence emanating from their human pores. Jassassah the Demon took a seat overlooking the dance floor, watching people writhe and dance to the music. She felt at home as she watched the humans. It was a scene she'd witnessed a million times before, only they weren't on a dance floor the humans were in a pit of hell, throwing their hands up, as the red illuminated dance floor mimicked the fires.

  The ice machine let out a gust of smoke, and well it made her miss hell even more. Hell was home, but that was the interesting thing about Jassassah, she didn't plan to go back alone. She wanted company, and that's what she was trying to find. Jassassah the Demon looked around the club, tonight, who would be hers?

  Two

  The Betrayed

  It was a school night, and that meant work the next day. Stephanie shouldn't have been in the club. It was the last place on Earth that she wanted to be. Her emotions were up and down, and they were making her tired. She had bags under her eyes, from not being able to sleep, and they were still puffy from the bouts of crying that had been unstoppable, she was nursing her broken heart. The club was noisy and packed, Stephanie wanted to be in her cozy pajamas, curled up in bed, wrapping herself into a ball as she hugged her pillow. Stephanie wanted the earth to swallow her.

  Even so, she was here in her backless red dress, her torturous five-inch heels setting the soles of her feet on fire, a feeling her heart could relate to.

  Stephanie had come to see if she could catch a glimpse of him, John her ex-boyfriend, this was his favorite hangout. He used to bring her here, and she knew his routine. She knew that he would be here, and most likely that he would be with Julie, Stephanie's ex-best friend. John, her boyfriend until last week, dumped her, and out of the blue Julie and John were a couple. Julie should have been the one that Stephanie turned to, but she couldn't because she was with John.

  The betrayal was so intense, it felt like John had plunged a knife into her heart, and Julie had twisted it around a million times. The hurt hung like a dark cloud over her head, she couldn't shift it, because she was still in love with him. John was Stephanie's, he was meant to be her one and only, and Stephanie still wanted to believe. Next year he was meant to ask her to marry him. They were going to have babies together, but somehow Julie had stolen Stephanie's future, and the dull ache of that hurt felt really bad.

  It was eleven fifteen when Stephanie saw John enter the club with Julie in tow. Her eyes witnessing the betrayal for the first time, she didn't want to acknowledge what started as a Facebook rumor. He wore the shirt that Stephanie had given him for their first-year anniversary, yet another betrayal. He held Julie's hand as he led her carefully down the stairs.

  The fury that Stephanie's eyes betrayed and the vengeance on her face had been enough to catch Jassassah the Demon’s attention. The smallest of actions was enough for the demon to know Stephanie would be an easy target tonight. Stephanie's heart beat faster, like a lioness with prey in her sights, she watched them from the other side of the club.

  Stephanie had lost the love of her life to her best friend who was privileged enough to know all her secret insecurities. Stephanie fantasized about confronting them. How long had it been going on for? How long had they been with each other? How long had they been making a fool of her? She wanted to know, she wanted them to both burn in hell. She loved and hated them with every fiber of her being.

  John leaned in and kissed Julie on the cheek. Stephanie watched and wondered when he had fallen out of love with her, she wondered where she'd been deficient? She wished that he knew she was here, and somehow, he would realize his mistake and come to her, maybe then the betrayal could be written off as a bad dream, maybe then she could give him a second chance. She wanted John to see her.

  The demon moved closer to Stephanie, deciding that tonight she would have fun whispering into Stephanie's ear, coaxing her into new, unfamiliar territory. The demon would enjoy watching Stephanie be consumed by her own revenge and hate. Stephanie was fragile, and that made her perfect bait.

  ‘He's far more affectionate with her than he is with you. I mean was with you,’ Jassassah whispered into Stephanie's ear.

  Stephanie's eyes burned brightly with jealousy as the demons' words incited rage in her heart and made themselves at home in her mind. Stephanie couldn't differentiate between her own thoughts and the demon's words.

  ‘Don't worry, we'll show them,’ whispered Jassassah.

  Stephanie peeled her eyes away from them and sat with her head hung down at the bar she was sat behind. She looked into the bottom of the drink in her hand, suddenly self-conscious. 'What had she hoped to achieve by coming here tonight?' her own inner voice of reason asked. 'This is just a good way to torture yourself. Leave! They won't even know that you've seen them. Walk along the back wall of the club and go, be free of them, and deal with this another day when you're stronger,' came Stephanie own thoughts, as self-protection became her first instinct.

  The demon was used to this. The human consciousness was no match for her. She had tuned into Stephanie's thoughts and could hear every word. She leaned into Stephanie’s ear.

  ‘Or show John and Julie that they don't matter,’ whispered the demon. Stephanie looked at them again, as they held hands and cuddled against each other. ‘Show him that he means nothing to you, that you're over it. Show them that you're not going to be their victim,’ whispered Jassassah. It was all the demon needed to say, Stephanie sat bolt upright on her bar stool.

  Stephanie, empowered by the thought of showing John and Julie they meant nothing, chose her tool of revenge, who could help her show them they were her history? She surveyed the room, and sure enough, she found him, he was the best-looking guy in the club, tall and handsome, with a great body and blond hair. The polar opposite of the skinny frame that John had.

  Tonight, Stephanie would go home with the blond guy, in front of John so she could demonstrate what he was missing. John had been her first, and by no means would he be her last. She wanted to prove to herself that she was over him. Stephanie waited at the bar positioning herself close to where the blonde guy would come to order a drink. He headed over after twenty minutes and Stephanie readied herself to catch his eye, and put her plan into action.

  The demon whispered in her ear, helping her flirt. She was awkward, but all she needed to do was laugh at the right moments. His name was Lars, he was visiting from Sweden on a business trip. He was handsome and single. She sat flirting at the bar with Lars, strategically touching him to show him that she welcomed his advances.

  The demon whispered thoughts into her ear and laughed every time Stephanie said them aloud to Lars. It had taken Stephanie forty minutes before Lars knew that Stephanie would go back to his hotel room. She struggled with not wanting to
look desperate.

  Stephanie used to believe in love and fairy-tale endings with big white dresses and church bells. John had been her love, the man she knew she was meant to marry. But now Lars was going to be her man of the night. By having a one-night stand with Lars, she would prove to herself and her body that John belonged to her past.

  Stephanie invited Lars onto the dance floor. She held his hand as they slowly danced even though the music was not meant for it, their bodies so close they could feel every inch of each other. Tonight, Stephanie would use Lars, he would be her secret weapon of revenge.

  It didn't take long before Stephanie could feel John’s and Julie’s eyes watching her, wondering what was the point of her display, wondering why she had not accepted defeat with dignity. As a response, she threw back her gorgeous long blonde hair and pulled his body and mouth even closer to hers, she opened her mouth and let Lars kiss her deeply.

  ‘You need to show them that they haven't harmed you,’ whispered Jassassah.

  Stephanie told herself that she survived betrayal, and tonight with Lars in her arms she was bulletproof.

  The demon urged her on, her right hand dropped behind Lar’s back feeling his butt, pulling his groin closer to her, as her left hand traveled upwards and felt his broad shoulders and muscular arms. Purposefully running her hand slowly against his muscles, it was a secret signal, to make the point that John did not have muscles. Lars was older than John and manlier. He was a significantly better kisser than John. These were the thoughts that the demon kept whispering into Stephanie's ear encouraging her onwards with her plan.