"It's a right pea-souper, innit, guv'ner! No telllin' what kinds a' bogie're out slippin' 'round tonight." The fish vendor tips his filthy porkpie hat to the passing inspector, who hardly notices the vague shape lurking in the shadow of the narrow alleyway behind him. "Certain and it's not a fit night out fo-" His voice is cut off sharply as a clawed hand closes around his throat, its iron nails digging... [click here for more]