No. 42 Bloomsbury Lane

An evil has arisen from the depths of Pennyville

An evil has arisen from the depths of Pennyville

Private Detective Floyd Kingston arrives at the scene of a mysterious happenstance in the eerie street of Pennyville…

AS soon as he arrived at No. 42, he could tell that something was out of place.  Entering through the hallway of the old dilapidated house, he brushed his weathered hands along the crumbling paint on the wall, making a distinct patter as it peeled from the rotting brickwork and fell to the floor.  The ancient oak floorboards lay cracked like a dried out riverbed covered in a thin layer of white dust, reminiscent of a light snow flurry which had frozen in place overnight.  Catching sight of his dishevelled look in the broken glass which lay strewn across the floor left him feeling tense, he wondering what could possibly have happened here.  He moved further along the corridor.  As he scrutinising the single track footprints on the dust laden floor, he noticed that they came from deep inside the murky old residence and led up the thin spiralling staircase to his left.  Leaning against the mahogany banister and looking up, he strained his eyes to pierce the darkness until he spotted a spectral bar of eerie light seeping from beneath the door at its summit.  Hoping that he might discover the person whom the trail belonged to, he began to ascend the seemingly never-ending staircase in the direction of the light.  When he finally reached the top of the staircase to face the door, he reached out his hand and took hold of the cold brass door handle, twisted it to the left and slowly pushed the creaking door open to be met with the view of someone sitting on a dark red armchair facing away from the door.  Their long silvery withered hair giving off a bright shine from the small table lamp nearby…

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