Chapter 6

Arrival, Pleasent Greetings, and a Disturbed Diary Entry

(A/N: Hello! Sorry it took me a bit to update. Almost four months. My sincerest apologies. This summer has been crazy as hell, from busy June, to somewhat work-filled July, and to ConnectiCon for an awesome weekend. Plus, serious writer's block got in the way. Well, I have returned from the fiery depths of Hell (haha!) and finally have chapter 6 up! Hope you all enjoy.)

For those of you who reviewed...

13thhourbells: Hey, it's cool. I have the tendency to think too much as well. It's a sign of intelligence. At least I think so. Ha, ha. As for Aubrey's relationship with her mother, I honestly haven't really thought about whether it was going to improve or not. That whole matter is just some unnecessary filler. Maybe I really should think about it. Heh, heh. As for whether or not the family is still alive or not, I'm not going to say, but I have thought about it at one point of my life. Well, anyway, thanks for the review!

KageMori: Thanks! Here's your update!

Lord Makura: Ha, ha, I'm not saying whether she is or not. But you'll find out soon enough!

Lilith13Genesis: Thanks! And thank you for that bit of information. I just went with what my manga said. It could be a typo. I dunno. Ha, ha. Well, enjoy your update!

Ryle Culler: Thank you! I must say that I'm pretty pleased with my writing style compared to how it was a few years back. Major improvement indeed. Hope you like this chapter!

Kuda-Kitsune (for chapter 4): Thank you very much! Hope you enjoy this update!

werewolves are love.: Ha, ha. Okay, here's your update!

AkitoTsubaki (for chapter 1): Thanks for that bit of information. It seems as though I learn something every day. Ha, ha. But year, I predicted that The Cain Saga/Godchild took place somewhere in the late 1800s. It's a good think the date was close. Well, anyhoo, here's your update!

Analu-san: Hiyas! And thank you! You're among the many who have told me that I kept Cain in character, which is a really good thing! Having him out of character was something that I had feared while writing this. I'm glad I'm staying true to his character. I'm glad you like this story! And no sweat, your English is perfectly fine. :D

Ritsikas: Yikes! That sounds terrifying! I hate nightmares like those. They freak me out. And thank you. :D

Xandochu: Thanks! I'm glad you like it so far! Here's your update!

Tempi-chan (for chapters 1-3): Thank you! I just have to say I'm relieved my writing style has improved. I wasn't intending Aubrey to be similar to Bella from Twilight. I'm not entirely sure if that's a good think or not. I hope to god it isn't. I'm not exactly Bella's biggest fan if you catch my drift...Ha, ha. Well, here's your update.

Jay Kamiya: Thank you. I'm glad you like the story so far. Enjoy this update!

tanya: Ha, ha, maybe...And yup! They're at London! Here's your update!

SapphireCuatro: Thank you. And sorry for not updating soon. Writer's block is a killer.

Riki-Tiki-Tabby (for chapter 3): Thanks! I'm glad you like my story. And don't worry about not reviewing it. I haven't updated in the longest time, so if anything, I should be the one to apologize. Heh. Well, hope you enjoy this chapter!

"Well, here we are. Welcome to London, Aubrey."

As my father said that the minute we finally ceased with shoving through the crowd to exit from the plane, I just stood there dazed and in awe at the surroundings around me. Skyscraping buildings of both the modern and a stunning gothic structure stood tall and strong in the vast city. Even from afar, I was still able to detect the famous "Big Ben" that stood proudly in its place as though mocking every sight around it with its beautified glory.

My long wait for this day had finally come, and any sort of doubt or concern that spiraled my thoughts for the past few weeks had ebbed. I didn't have to worry about a single thing, not for the next two weeks. No uncalled-for obstacles to face. No unwanted stress to deal with. No unnecessary worries and doubts to pull my self-esteem down.

I was in London, a whole other city in a whole other country, and Dad and I were going to have one hell of an adventure. I could already sense it.

I suddenly snapped out of my state of awe when I felt my father's hand on my shoulder. I snapped my head back to face his toothy grin. "Come on, kiddo. We're meeting Lucas in about an hour so we might as well drop our things off at the hotel."

I cocked a brow at his reply. Lucas? I thought, pondering over the name my father stated. My mind sudden clicked as I finally remembered, thus relaxing the brow that had risen from before. Oh, right. Dad's friend. Kick ass name, though...

This time, it was my father's turn to cock up an eyebrow. "You alright, kiddo? You were kinda giving me a weird look just now?" he asked. I guess he caught the look on my face when I didn't realize who Lucas was.

"Oh, yeah, yeah, I'm fine, Dad," I replied with a bubbly chuckle, clutching onto the handle of my ebony suitcase tighter in my grasp. "So, what hotel are we staying at?" I wondered with a tiny hint of excitement hinting in my voice. "Ooh! Ooh! Are we staying at the Grosvenor Kensington Hotel?! The--?!"

"Uh...no..." he replied, slowly dragging the "uh" to the "no". "Those hotels are a little too pristine--"

"Isn't that usually a good thing, Dad?" I cut in, contradicting him a little.

He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it upon thinking over my pointing out the contradiction he had made. "Ah..." he gasped. "Touché. Well, those hotels are a little too expensive, so why stay at a place you can't even afford?"

I shrugged as a giggle threatened to escape my lips. My grip on the tattered diary tightened. "Whatever, we'll still have an awesome time here."

My father let out a light laugh. "Heh, heh, of course, baby, but uh..." He smirked a little as he eyed the diary in my grasp. "You don't plan on reading that thing the entire time, do ya? I mean, there's always sight seeing with Lucas and--"

"Of course not, Dad," I assured him, flashing him a grin. I lifted the suitcase off the ground and pointed out towards the series of skyscraping buildings. "So, shall we mosey on down to the hotel?"

My father grinned again. "Yeah," he replied, swinging his bag over his shoulder. "Let's go."

And so, I proceeded with following my father to our destination. Along the way, we had to squeeze through the surprisingly crowded sidewalk in attempts to get by quicker. Because he thought that walking all the way to the hotel was just plain and flat out troublesome, my father decided to call for a taxi, since he believed that it would make our lives "a hell of a lot easier". He tried several attempts, but with no luck, until he finally was able to catch a taxi whose driver wasn't so busy ignoring us. I observed the outside world through the window as my father chatted away with the driver about our trip and many other things I seemed to tune out during the drive.

It didn't take very long for the taxi to reach to our hotel. I have to admit; the building was quite a piece of work. It was a tall building of a modern structure rather than the gothic style that I had admired only slightly more. I followed my father to the front desk to check in, but only to escalate to a few or so stories up until we reached to the correct floor. We wandered through the long and narrow hallway that led to the last door to the left at the very end of the hall.

I was under the impression that the room was going to be comfortable and well refined, much like many hotel rooms I've encountered. Of course, my prediction was correct. The room as a whole was pretty plain looking and normal, and not at all too fancy or too, well, "cheap-looking". It gave off a somewhat welcoming scent of lemon-scented furniture cleaner and fresh paint from the solid pasty walls. The arrangement of the furniture was pretty common among many rooms. Two well-sized beds with quilts of burgundy stood far apart from each other, though they both stood before a tall wooden dresser with a small television set on top of it. Several doors were set up in the room, which included a door to the bathroom, and closet, and of course, the door to enter and exit the room.

The somewhat welcoming scent beckoned me in as I felt my father pass me. "Nice, isn't it?" he grinned, throwing his luggage on the bed he seemed to claim as his. "I imagine that all the other rooms are like this," he babbled on as he actually pulled out his neatly folded clothes and laid them out on his bed. "Lucas sure has great taste in hotels."

So, it was Lucas who decided to pick a hotel for us... I assumed in thought, mirroring my father's actions by throwing my bag on the only empty bed and pulling out my clothes as well. I neatly lined my folded clothes along the edge of the bed as I sighed. "So, Dad, what are we going to be doing for the rest of the day, huh?" I questioned him, suddenly plopping onto the bed. I crossed my legs as I laid the diary on my lap. Before I even had the chance to open it, Dad suddenly grabbed it out of my hands. I made a face. "Dad, what the hell?" I started, my mouth agape.

"You can read later," he told me in a playful mocking tone. "Right now, we have to meet up with Lucas at the lobby. We're going to have lunch together."

I pouted mentally, but decided that it was best to just give in. My father did have a legitimate reason to snatch the diary from my hands and forbidding me to read any further at the moment. He wanted to spend as much time exploring London as humanly possible with his daughter and friend, so in a way, I couldn't exactly blame him.

Though I made a mental note to myself to commence with reading the moment we head back for the hotel.

I huffed gently. "Alright, alright, but do I have to dress a certain way?" I asked him, looking down at my current attire. If we were heading for some fancy-shmancy restaurant, then there was absolutely no way ripped jeans and a black hoodie would be anywhere near acceptable.

My father placed his hand beneath his chin, scrutinizing each and every detail of my clothes with his eyes. "Well..." he started slowly.

Oh, boy, here it comes... I thought bleakly.

"Luke told me we were just going to stop at a Subway to grab some sandwiches and stuff, so no, I don't think changing out of your clothes is very necessary at the moment."

...Okay, somehow, I was not expecting that kind of answer...

But whatever. At least I didn't have to get changed.

Before very long, my father and I set off to the lobby where we would meet the man who would be dubbed as "our own personal tour guide". After going down a few or so floors, we headed for the lobby. There, I caught sight of someone standing there while swaying back and forth on the soles of what I would've expected were his well-polished loafers that matched well with his perfectly ironed business suit.

Strangely enough, my expectations failed to be presented for the time being.

The man in the lobby did not look like an astonishingly well-kempt gentleman. It was barely anything like that at all. He looked very...average from head to toe, like my father and me. Even though his blonde hair was slicked back in a "well-refined" manner, his choice of clothing didn't necessarily fit the image many people would assume appropriate for someone like him.

He wasn't donned in a nice suit that came straight from the dry cleaners like I thought he would. Instead, he wore a plain black T-shirt with some sort of logo illustrated in the middle. The shirt itself was a little big for a body as lanky as his, so it wasn't a surprise that it would slightly hang loosely over the hem of his dark gray jeans. He continuously swayed to and fro on the soles of his new sneakers.

Putting the clothing analysis aside, I finally took the time to catch of glimpse of his face. He actually wasn't a bad looking guy. He appeared to be in his early or mid thirties, definitely younger than my father. His complexion looked smooth and positively flawless, olive skinned, if I may add. He had such lovely pale blue eyes that scanned around the lobby, looking almost mystified and possibly oblivious over the realization that my father and I had arrived at his presence.

I dared not to speak up to catch his attention, for I had always feared for the awkwardness that would arise from it all. Instead, I turned to my father, who was giving the lanky fellow a look, obviously amused by this. He finally took the chance to speak up. "Luke! Over here!" he called, waving his arm in the air.

The man, who was proven to me that he was, in fact, Lucas, turned his head until he faced my father and me. He flashed us a wide, toothy grin. "Hey! Took you long enough, eh, Carl?" he called back, clear enough for me to detect the heavy accent in his voice, as he slowly made his way towards us.

My father chuckled sheepishly. "Sorry, but Aubbers and I had to go through a bit to get here," he explained.

"Huh? 'Aubbers'? What do you--? Oh, hello, there." Being at least six inches to a foot taller than me, Lucas looked down and flashed me a soft smile. "I haven't seen you since you were ye high," he said, placing his hand by his thigh.

I raised a brow, since I was obviously baffled by what he had just told me. "Huh?" I managed to utter slowly, confused as ever.

My father chuckled. "Aubrey, you've met Luke before," he explained. "You were, I think, five or six years old at the time. It was during that huge cookout your mother hosted, and Luke here was invited. I can't really blame you, though. You were young, and you've only met him once."

I thought for a moment, but my mind went totally blank. Although the smiling man standing in front of me did indeed have a familiar face, I just couldn't remember a single thing about him. Perhaps my father was right after all and that I really was far too young when I first "met" him. It didn't matter much to me at that point. It was like I was just meeting someone for the very first time, and I usually had absolutely no objections to that. Usually.

I took the opportunity to raise my hand towards Lucas. "Well," I began with a small smile, "I may not remember you much, so, uh, yeah, nice to meet you."

He chuckled lightly as he grabbed my hand and shook it. "Likewise, m'dear." He broke the greeting gesture before clasping his hands together. "So, shall we mosey on down to Subway? It's very close by and it hasn't snowed in days since the weather has gotten slightly warmer, so we could just walk there."

I heard my father groan slightly under his breath. He wasn't a big fan of walking, and he wasn't exactly what anyone could call "physically fit", at least not since he married my mother. I, on the other hand, did not object in any way to Luke's suggestion, since I had absolutely no problem with walking.

Just like Luke told my father and me, it actually really wasn't that bad out outside. I did see some small, unnoticeable flakes floating down occasionally throughout our walk, but overall, it was actually quite a pleasant experience. The Subway there pleased me for not only their cleanliness, but also how deliciously well prepared their sandwiches were. It definitely owned the crap-job of a Subway back home, where I was too scared to even walk through the door.

It was an enjoyable experience. Even after we had completely digested our food, we pretty much sat there at the small table by the window for a few hours as Luke elaborated a bit more on what exactly we were going to do for the next two weeks. He pretty much explained that he was going to introduce London to us, and we'll have our occasional "off days" where we could wander around the city and shop.

Luke's plans had processed into my father's mind while my own would drift from time to time. As the two chatted, I merely gazed out the window, daydreaming and admiring the city from afar. It was such a...beautiful sight, much more pleasing to the eyes than my boring little town. I felt somehow relieved to be away from home, content that I was in a different world, like I had just suddenly drifted away from my daily life like a dream...

Not too long afterwards, Dad had to literally shake me to snap out of my daydreaming. We left the restaurant and parted ways with Luke once we were outside. "Okay, Aubrey, this is basically Lucas' plan for tomorrow," my father explained as we strolled along the sidewalk to head back towards the hotel. "He was telling me that he was going to give us a tour around some of the sights here in London, you know, kinda like Big Ben or something. That'll be fun, won't it?"

"Of course," I shrugged, smiling slightly. "I like it here, and I certainly wouldn't mind learning a bit more about this place."

He ruffled with my hair like always. "Good, good. Nice to hear that."

We had some occasional "small talk" as we reached to the hotel and eventually made it to our room. Dad told me that we were just going to relax for the rest of the day. As expected, Dad was planning on watching some T.V., but not before heading for the bathroom to shower and change into more comfortable attire. I figured that it would be the perfect time to commence with reading.

As my father showered in the bathroom, I sat on my bed and pulled the diary from its resting place in my bag. I flipped through the pages that I had already read previously until I reached to a whole new page.

March 20th, 1888

So many things...so many unexpected turn of events have occurred so suddenly...For instance, I...just found out about something...something about Meridiana. Emeline, being the insufferable one she was, joined me in search for her. What we had discovered was something so unspeakably...disturbing.

About six months ago, she was struck by a horse carriage in the city. She was only sixteen years old. She died that day...I didn't know what to think when I heard that from her very own mother. If what she had said was, in fact, the truth, then how was it possible that I have seen Meridiana...in the flesh?

What does it mean? If she's involved with Disraeli, then I could only assume that she isn't an ordinary girl. I wonder...is it possible that Delilah, the mysterious society that he is a part of, is able to revive the dead? I'm not even sure if it really is possible...Her fingers, skin, and lips...they were warm...as though she was alive.

I just had to find out the truth, so Riff and I went over to the cemetery to dig up her grave...and what I saw...it just didn't make any sense...Meridiana's body...it...it rested in the coffin. I don't understand...How can it be possible? Perhaps this matter needs further investigation.

And as if things couldn't get worse, it did. Emeline...was murdered. I assumed she wanted to follow Riff and me that night. Unfortunately, it just had to end for her in the worst way possible. Not only is my mind filled with confusion, but it is also clouded with guilt. I...enjoyed seeing her getting frustrated over my lack of attention...and I just kept toying with her. Perhaps...it was my fault that she had pushed herself too hard. I was well aware of her feelings for me, but I kept ignoring her. Oscar wasn't too pleased with me. His anger had almost led him to punch me..if it weren't for Riff, that is.

The funeral wasn't exactly easy...and it was at that moment when I resented Emeline's parents much more than ever. They had shown absolutely no hurt or sorrow for what had happened to their daughter. They suggested that a marriage between Gilford and Mary Weather should be arranged. I refused, of course. All they care for is their family's reputation. It's a fact. That explains their behavior over their own daughter's death...and had her believe that she was ugly when she was a child...not to mention they had locked Gilford into the basement instead of taking him to a hospital.

They valued their children to the extent to which they could help enhance the family reputation...but if they couldn't meet those expectations, then they would be abandoned...by their very own parents. I'd rather die than to offer my sister to devils like them.

...It's...been a very long day...well...few days, to be more literal. However, before I end this entry, I would like to point out something that kind of bothered me a little. It's about Gilford. He was acting rather strange earlier today...After my quarrel with the Lauderdales, I found Gilford...sort of. He was under the guise of his puppet Mr. Punch. When I asked him to come pray for Emeline, he gloated over her death. He was happy, and I couldn't understand why. When I tried to confront him, he got away, and I ended up having my finger pricked by a needle hidden in the puppet. The last words he had spoken to me were, "'Red ram' is a magic curse! You've forgotten all about it!"

What could this mean?

And that was all.

Upon skimming through the final paragraph for the second or third time, I carefully shut the little black book and hid it in my bag once again. As a slight headache started to slowly kick in, I sluggishly rested my forehead on my knuckles. "Well," I muttered to myself, gasping groans of slight pain from the headache from time to time, "that was a rather...disturbing little entry. But I wonder..."

Everything written in that one entry, every word that belonged to Cain...they baffled me, as though I was reading a bunch of riddles rather than a diary. "It just doesn't make any sense...It's humanly impossible to revive the dead...isn't it? I wonder what really happened to Emeline...and what about Gilford? I don't have any brothers or sisters...well...biologically speaking, of course, but normally, one would get upset over their sibling's death...so...why was he so...thrilled?"

My pondering aloud had to come to an unfortunate end when I no longer heard the shower running. I reached for the television remote on the wooden nightstand beside me and flicked through channel to channel, in high attempts to find something decent to watch. I remained sitting there, countlessly flicking through the channels, until my father finally stepped out of the bathroom donned in navy blue sweatpants and a plain white T-shirt.

I saw him smirk from the corner of my eye, so I assumed that he was a bit amused by my current actions. "You're going to have to pick a channel sometime, Aubbers," he snickered playfully, approaching me and snatching the remote from my hand.

"Sorry," I said with a slight shrug, watching him click the buttons on the remote several hundred times. "But you can watch whatever you want. Sports, Sci-Fi, whatever." I rummaged through my bag in search for something to do. "I'm going to do something else."

"Let me guess, you're going to read, right?" he assumed, refusing to pull his gaze from the television.

"Nah, I already did that today." I pulled out my black, slightly battered Nintendo DS and turned it on. "I'm going to play some Phoenix Wright. It's been forever since I've played it."

My father nodded in response. "You do that," he replied, finally ending his clicking episode when he finally reached to the sports channel.

What a day it was. My father and I had finally arrived to London, we met with Lucas and had lunch together, and now we were going to relax for the rest of the night until the next day, when Lucas will show us around the city. Everything went smoothly, according to plan, if I may say so myself.

However, the only thing that had left a bit of a disturbance for the day was that entry I had read in the diary. Sure, I had read about stuff like that before in stories and such, but this time, it was just so mind baffling. The unexpected and the impossible had actually happened in real life, back in the late 1800s too. I was just as confused as Cain was. Can one really revive the dead? If so, then how is it possible? What really happened to Emeline? How did she die? Also, what in the world is going on in the mind of Gilford, who had lost his older sister and had shown absolutely no remorse whatsoever?

For some abnormal reason, I had a gut feeling that I was going to find out more about those matters by not just reading the diary alone.

Why? Why was that?

(A/N: Ooooookay. Chapter 6 is finally done at long last. A thousand apologies for everyone who had been waiting ever so patiently for an update. I feel very guilty. So chapter 6 is done. I wasn't entirely sure how to end it properly. I'm at college now and I have to leave for home in about ten minutes, so I wanted to finish the chapter right now, because I'm going to be extremely busy for the rest of the day.

Well, anyway, about the next chapter. I believe it'll be the chapter were things start to really heat up. I'll see what I can do. I hope this chapter wasn't too much of a disappointment. I'll try to update as soon as possible, and hopefully a lot quicker than this time. And I'll try to improve for the next chapter, because I didn't think this chapter was my best.

Oh, yes, with the section on Cain's diary, I tried to put it in my own words as best as I could, but some of the stuff is credited by Kaori Yuki-san herself.

Well, hope you all liked this chapter, everyone! Sorry for the delay!)

Twilight-to-Nightfall