Inter arma enim silent leges. "In a time of war, the law falls silent," I muttered to no one in particular. I was leaning back in the only piece of furniture in my small apartment, save the bed, and it faced the large window that, on those rare clear days, laid all of London before me. And though the deep orange sunset was something to behold, I felt cold inside. Uneasy. The law has fallen silent. War must be upon us. But this is a different type of war. It slithers into the eyes and ears of the weak, and corrupts them. Like a parasite, it eats away at us from the inside out, slowly, until it sates its hunger, and we are left broken, drained, dead. This is not a time to be alone. I know I hadn't heard from my friends for a long time now. Maybe...I shivered. They're probably busy. Or maybe they figured bothering with me is just not worth the effort anymore. Who could blame them? I laughed bitterly. I care about them so much, I've managed to isolate myself from them. My lids grew heavy.
I started. It was dark now---I must've been asleep for just a few hours. There was a sharp knock at my door, a little louder. I stood. Who the hell could it be? The landlady never knocks, she just leaves my mail under the door, and trusts that I do my job. And I don't know anyone in the area. Rubbing the fatigue from my eyes, I opened the door. "Mmm?" I mumbled.