Monday 4th April, 1892Edit
“I'm gonna get you.... going to shiv you good” were the last words I remember when I woke in the middle of the night. The past week had been an eventful one, especially with the strange goings on with Mrs Morag and the Frenchmen.
It all began back when we were trying to get into the Umbral rooms. While the rough lot tried to break in, Mrs Morag (pre-glowing woman) and Sir Bobby went out for a stroll down the street to a Punch and Judy act. They both enjoyed the show, describing it as being “almost like they didn't have strings.”Sir Bobby bought Mrs Morag a doll off one of the children watching a show. After the events at the Umbral rooms they searched for the same puppet show, they again sat down to watch the spectacle. Half way trough the act, a new puppet appeared on stage and began dancing and signing, the little girl they had bought the puppet off.
From then on Morag dedicated herself to researching puppets through history, going as far as something called voodoo and other strange names, Steele decided to aid her but 'm sure it was more to keep an eye on her. Also today Sir Bobby made a fool of himself when they searched the streets for this puppeteer by saying that the puppets moved by themselves, not quite use to listening rather than talking.
The next day, while everyone went to church to do what ever they do, Doc decides I need to try and test out my new fingers in combat after my operation. She baited Sir Bobby who arrogantly says “Won't be any trouble Doctor”, got me riled. I retaliate “I'll go easy on you Bobby, wouldn't want to make that crease on your suit a rip” the fool looks down and I give him a slap across the face “ohhh Bobby can't be giving away free hits like that in the future” expressing his disapproval, he jabs me in the mouth to shut me up, my mouth trickles a little blood, “well if that's how you wanna play it” I lunge for him, feeling the burn in my lungs like they were shaking struggling to compensate for my breathing. Bobby stepped aside and sent me packing into the nearest table and chairs of the lodge. Doc interrupted us “That's quite enough, I didn't mean for you to go over board on this gentleman!” Not listening to her I got up, growled at Bobby while still seeing red that he had made me look like a fool, charged again for him, and was woken up, by a Staffrodshire “knocking the sense back into me” as Doc put it. Later she examined my head for further injuries.
That evening me, Garvin and Sir Bobby entered the sewers, because the puppet master keeps disappearing but there is always a nearby man hole cover. So we trudge through the filth beneath the streets when all of a sudden we movement in the distance. I kid you not, a real moving little puppet. There is a metallic scraping sound, accompanied shortly afterwards little taps as of wood, as the puppet climbs down the stairs. Seeking cover behind a mildew wall, we observe this little wooden man, casually skip out of sight. As quietly as we can, we follow the direction the puppet went in, we turn another moldy wall and he's gone. I creep forward slowly, looking around for our little friend.
He jumps down from above, “You were following me, weren't you. I don't like company” he says in a strange squeaky voice. He continued “He wouldn't like you following me!” then starts to attack me. Biting my leg with wooden teeth, I though him in the direction of Garvin and Bobby. Garv wrestles him into a bird cage we have with us, for the gas alert in the sewers. The little man starts screaming as he holds his legs and arms aside bracing himself against the opening of the bird cage.
While I am reveling in this peculiar image, I notice a brick move, near a flue gate, I see a wooden hand, then an arm and a head stick up grinning menacingly at me. I turn around because of a sound, some puppets are jumping down from over head. I'm surrounded. Garvin and Bobby have a few occupying them. With my back turned a few of them jumped onto me, while the front puppets were clobbering my toes and shins with their little clubs. In the background I heard another squeaky voice instruct “ That's the way to do it.” Sir bobby dropped the cage holding the once alive canary and the puppet in it. He took his cane with both hands and did a running seep, much like a gold swing I have seen in the papers. One puppet hits the roof of the arched sewers and breaks into parts. Soon enough another one gets a golf swing and suffers a similar fate. I throw one of the puppets from my back and crush another against the wall, the sound of splintered wood makes me smile with delight, I taunt “That's the way to do it.”
From the distance I see a more larger puppet, but still small enough for me to handle, approach me, with a knife in its hands. “I'm going to shiv you boy, I'm going to shiv you good!” it says as does a running jump, knife above his head. I duck this jump and the knife lands in the wall and the puppet slides down the wall, knife in hand and turns to face me. The next few minutes, the puppet with the knife who looks like Mr. Punch, starts jabbing at me with the blade. I can easily dodge these, but he catches my arm a few times when I try and reach to punch him, he was a quick bugger. I cry out when I see the other two have finished off the other puppets “ I can't hit him give us a hand, will ya?” then the little bastard cuts my leg, a red spray smears across his face, “That's the way to do it” he mimics with his little wooden jaw.
Dropped on one knee, I thought the puppet was going for my throat with the blade, he winds his arms back for a big swipe with his knife, then I suddenly feel warmer. I look over my shoulder to see a glowing white flame arm, moving towards the puppet, pick him up, then an odd wail pierce my left ear drum, even the puppet in the canary cage starts screaming. Mr. Punch swipes his knife at the flaming arm, but this accomplishes nothing. Mr. Punche's life is ended, in the arms grasp, the puppet is held in a blaze just above its waist, his body starts to blacken and then whiten, his body shrinks in size, followed by his arms glowing a faint amber, a deathly screeching “Nooooooooo” is heard echoing in the sewers. His kindling corpse lays in lumps of white and black ash on the floor. I get up and see Morag collapse on the sewer floor behind me. Obviously she had changed again, saving my life a second time.
When we reached the surface, Morag awoke as I carried her upon my shoulder, again she didn't know what had happened in the last few hours. I saw the Revered who had strange lines on his nose. I asked him what happened to him, his only response was “Mr. Punches pet had snapped its jaws on his nose.” Made me chuckle he had a red nose to match his cheeks.