Tony Walker

The old rusted iron bars of the fences on either side of him creaked in anticipation as he wandered into the long rectangular garden.

A fashionable affair, with black metal benches on the left and bins next to them.

Behind them lay a white wall that lined the garden.

Beautiful flowers in wooden tubs were arranged surrounding small trees in the middle, like islands of beauty in the stone garden.

Statues split the garden into three sections, the walls curving slightly to meet them, each ornately carved and representative of distinguished dignitaries, whom the cloaked man faintly remembered.

He remembered their scent, most of all, and as he passed them his clawed hand scraped against them as if tempted to scratch, but left a soft caress instead.

The statues made no objection, only standing stoically as they had done for generations, over whom the cloaked man had kept watch.

sometimes during life, sometimes at its end, often the bearer of the former.

He continued his walk through the park, tall trees lining either side in intervals to partially obscure the rich townhouses on either side, encircling this bastion of nature, now aglow in the moonlight.

He moved closer to a bench ahead, the mist now thickening to a fog over the entire park in which the cloaked man glided through like a phantom.

Alone sat on this bench.

A tall man-like figure lay motionless.

He was huge, much bigger than the cloaked man, and still like a statue.

He lay bent over, with no clothes or discernible features on which the moonlight reflected any semblance of character.

He was poised in a painting, the long claw-like hands still as the marbled grey skin radiated no hint of life within.

The bald head gave a primeval appearance as the man in black approached.

He grinned, reaching out his hand like a puppeteer, and suddenly, as if on cue, the figure sparked to life like an old machine now switching on for the first time.

Its claws were the first to move, suddenly jarring into life, before the head suddenly rose.

It had no eyes, stitches in place, as it turned to face him.

Good.