Shadows of London: 3-18 Hanging By a Thread

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Although death is common here, Caroline never imagined the day she would decide someone's life or death.

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Style: Event Logs: Morphine, Ariadne Recommended: Gulliver's Travels, Poem of Flute and Clover (Dress), Carmilla, Down by the Salley Gardens, Dracula, Waiting for Godot, Belinda, The Picture of Dorian Gray Rewards: 3,000 , 600 , 3 , 1 , 1 , Blueprint: Proverb of Parting

Proverb of Parting

Dialogue Choices

This is natural selection.

• I can't do it
  • Story continues
• I'll do it
  • Edward goodwill up

Album: Unspeakable

Transcript

Expand for script.

• The workhouse's courtyard is overgrown with weeds, and several stone paths are almost completely hidden by the grass.
• We walk silently on these paths, feeling the dampness of the night dew on our clothes.
• After much contemplation, I finally make up my mind and choose the easiest question to ask.
• You: Edward, did you tell anyone that I'm your fiancée?

• His gaze darts to my face, a pensive expression settling in as he remains silent.
• Edward Grey: Did you hear some rumors?

• You: Don’t change the subject, Edward. How I found out isn’t important.

• You: Please answer me truthfully, and don’t betray my trust in you.

• Edward Grey: ...Once, just once, I did declare you as my fiancée.

• You: What?

• Edward Grey: The Eastern District is still under lockdown. Without some solid connections, the police will not easily let strangers in without a permit.

• You: So you brought me into the Eastern District by claiming that I am your fiancée?

• Edward Grey: Yes.

• I can't help but sigh deeply.
• Edward Grey: This is just a stopgap measure, Caroline, and I hope you understand.

• You: I do understand. But I hoped that you would at least tell me in advance.

• You: Now, I'm known as your fiancée on Scotland Yard's records. This could have a big impact on my life!

• Edward Grey: I'm sorry.

• There is an extremely awkward atmosphere between us. He lowers his head gloomily.
• Edward Grey: Does it bother you?

• You: Why wouldn't it bother me?

• Edward Grey: No, that's not what I meant...

• We stop walking at the same time.
• The moonlight is bright, and the night wind is chilly.
• The call of an owl echoes in the distance, as if accompanying this tragicomedy playing out in the Eastern District.
• Edward Grey: I am well aware of the ways of the world, Caroline. I know that Madam Petit attempted to arrange a match between you and Jesse.

• Edward Grey: Whether it be in terms of social status or personal connections, I understand that I should not be entertaining such thoughts.

• Edward Grey: But from the moment we met on the train, I have felt something I have never felt before.

• Edward Grey: As we spent more time together, this attraction grew stronger, becoming impossible to ignore.

• Edward Grey: When you agreed to accompany me to the Eastern District, this fantasy reached its peak, and for a moment, I lost control of my senses.

• Edward Grey: In a moment of selfishness, I presumptuously defined the nature of our relationship.

• My heart beats loudly.
• You: (Yes I've known all along and that is the point.)

• I didn't need an explanation. I could somewhat guess that the matter of being his "fiancée" was likely connected to the current lockdown.
• So, by addressing this directly and discussing it, am I seeking further confirmation from him—
• You: (Or maybe what I really want is to hear exactly what he just said?)

• You: Edward, I—

• He raises a hand, signaling me to stop speaking.
• Edward Grey: Please don't rush into an answer, Caroline. Take your time to think things through until you're truly sure of your feelings.

• Edward Grey: For now, we can still consider the "fiancée" matter as a compromise made out of necessity.

• Edward Grey: And I believe that under the current circumstances, we really don't have the time to dwell on this matter.

• You: ...you're right.

• The lives and health of millions of people in London are, in a way, pressing on his shoulders.
• It is far more important than our personal feelings.
• We gaze into each other's eyes, almost exchanging slightly bashful smiles at the same time. He extends his warm palm, and I naturally place my own hand within his.
• We resume our stroll. The cold night dew remains damp, yet our bodies no longer feel the chill.
• Edward Grey: So, the reason why you came to look for me was to discuss this terrible rumor?

• You: It's not exactly "terrible". It's just It's just embarrassing.

• You: Rhys genuinely believed that we were engaged. Out of respect for you, he followed me like a hunting dog, terrified that I might flirt with someone else.

• You: He even intercepted my letter to Priscilla, rendering the proposal I mentioned to you earlier nothing more than empty talk.

• I sense Edward's body tense up for a moment, a hint of anger lacing his surprised expression.
• Edward Grey: That is too much. I'll go talk to him about it.

• You: There's no need for that. There are more important things for you to do.

• You: I'll handle the issue with Rhys myself. You just focus on treating and developing the inoculation.

• He calms down, nods, and then gazes at me with a slightly teasing look in his eyes.
• Edward Grey: Who did you even talk to that would make Rhys think you were flirting?

• I pause in surprise.
• After a second's pause, he reacts exactly like Vincent.
• Edward Grey: Vincent Savile?

• The atmosphere shifts almost instantaneously. His gaze intensifies, as if poised to pull the trigger.
• Edward Grey: You left the workhouse? And you met with him?

• You: No—

• Edward Grey: You went to meet a vampire after witnessing the dire state of the Eastern District?

• The strings of his rationality seem to suddenly snap, his voice rising in volume as he disregards the fact that this is not a conversation that should be heard by others.
• I take a deep breath, struggling to maintain my composure.
• You: Calm down, please. Neither of us wants this conversation to be overheard.

• You: You know I haven't left the workhouse in weeks. Meeting Vincent was a complete coincidence.

• Edward Grey: A mere coincidence? Or was he lurking nearby, waiting just to catch a glimpse of you?

• You: Edward, please don't speak to me in that tone. It's not like you at all.

• My words calm him down, but perhaps only on the surface.
• Edward Grey: So, you met up with him and had a conversation. He told you some things, and then you decided to come and interrogate me.

• You: Interrogate might be a bit strong... but yes, that's the general idea.

• He bursts into laughter, a deep disappointment clouding his eyes.
• Edward Grey: Have you ever thought that what he said might not be true?

• You: Vincent wouldn't lie to me.

• You: But I don't deny that there may be various misunderstandings in this, so that's why I wanted to confirm things with you.

• Edward Grey: Caroline, please don't think my disapproval of your relationship with Vincent stems from jealousy.

• You: I...

• Edward Grey: I have stated many times before that humans and vampires are enemies by nature, and this will never change.

• Edward Grey: This is not determined by our personal will or character, but by our nature.

• Edward Grey: I admit that Vincent Saville exhibits a very human-like demeanor, and can even be called noble and charming.

• Edward Grey: Does this change the fact that he must consume blood to survive?

• You: Of course not, but—

• Edward Grey: Reality is not a Gothic romance novel for ladies to read for amusement.

• Edward Grey: Come back to the real world, Caroline. I beg you.

• He draws closer to me, his pleading eyes catching my evasive gaze.
• His body radiates a comforting warmth, a relaxing temperature in stark contrast to Vincent's icy body.
• In the damp, chilly night air of London, perhaps that's the only real thing.
• You: I...

• Nurse A: Doctor Grey!

• The nurse rushes over, her weary face filled with anxiety.
• Nurse A: The patient who just underwent an amputation is vomiting. We've turned him on his side, but there may be a foreign object stuck in his trachea.

• I hear him faintly uttering a curse.
• I look up in surprise and see him let out a brief sigh. He quickly adjusts his expression and calmly issues instructions to the nurse.
• Edward Grey: Keep the patient lying on their side. I'll be right there.

• Edward Grey: Caroline, I'm sorry.

• He walks briskly toward the ward, with the nurse following closely behind.
• I stand dazed for a moment in the empty courtyard before heading back to the lodging house.

• Perhaps the emergency surgery has drained me of all my energy, or perhaps I have simply been subjected to too many unexpected emotional upheavals today.
• As I push open the door to my room, I feel an overwhelming sense of exhaustion. I manage to unfasten my tight corset with great effort and collapse onto the bed.
• You: (When will Edward return... he hasn't slept for more than four hours in the past few days...)

• Before I can find the answer, I drift off into a deep sleep.
• ...
• You: ...Hmm... Mama...?

• On a rain-soaked night, the cold envelops my entire body and I can hear my teeth chattering from the cold.
• You: Mama, where are you?

• Standing alone in the pitch-black alley, my young self shivers uncontrollably, trying to huddle away from the icy raindrops.
• Fear creeps into my heart, but I remember my parents' words: if I ever get lost, don't wander, and just stay put.
• —we will find you, Caroline.
• You: It's so cold...

• My hands and feet are almost numb, but I wait stubbornly.
• ???: Are you waiting for your mother, child?

• A figure suddenly appears by my side.
• I warily inch away, but the stranger pays no heed, instead crouching down and opening an umbrella over me.
• This kind gesture eases some of my apprehension, and I begin to scrutinize him through the eyes of a child.
• ???: Is your name Caroline?

• You: ...

• I cautiously assess the man standing before me, clad in a black pastor's robe and cinched with a deep crimson sash.
• He appears to be around forty, with a stern expression and an air of unwavering integrity.
• ???: Is your mother's name Lavinia?

• You: ...Yes, it is! Do you know where she is?

• A hint of a smile graces his lips.
• ???: She's seeking shelter from the rain in my church.

• You: Church?

• ???: You see, I'm a pastor. The church is just at the end of this road.

• ???: Your mother is waiting there for you, little Caroline.

• In a daze, I grasp the pastor's outstretched hand.
• His touch is warm, sending a wave of comforting ease through my chilled body. Unknowingly, I begin to follow his footsteps.
• You: (Mama is waiting for me at the church...)

• Feeling somewhat reassured, I look up at the kind priest.
• At that moment, I see a glint of silver peeking out from under his robe. It's a revolver.

• The pain in my lungs jolts me back to reality.
• I open my eyes to find myself still lying comfortably in my bed.
• The pillow covering my mouth and nose is making it hard to breathe. I struggle to sit up, feeling cold sweat all over my body, and gasp for air.
• Edward Grey: Caroline? Are you still awake?

• The wooden bed frame creaks in response to my movement. Doctor Grey calls out from next door, her voice filled with concern.
• You: Edward... you're back? Is the treatment over?

• I pull back the curtain. He is still impeccably dressed, with a grave expression on his face.
• Edward Grey: I've taken care of the vomiting patient. An infected person has suddenly fallen ill, and the situation is unprecedentedly dire.

• Edward Grey: I need to go there immediately. Would you like to come with me?

• His words and expression send a chill down my spine, banishing any lingering drowsiness.
• You: ...Give me a moment.

• Without asking any more questions, I hurriedly change out of my sleepwear.

• As we briskly walk towards the treatment room, Doctor Grey provides me with a quick explanation.
• Edward Grey: Before the surgery, I was conducting experiments on a new inoculation.

• Edward Grey: I blame myself for being too hasty and not properly storing the vials containing various blood samples.

• Edward Grey: The child, perhaps trying to help me clean up, accidentally came into contact with those samples.

• Edward Grey: He wasn't wearing gloves, and his body was covered in old wounds, some of which might not have healed completely...

• I hear him gritting his teeth in self-blame, but he has no time to console himself.
• You: Edward... who's the patient?

• The pause seems to stretch into an eternity, but the answer comes eventually.
• Edward Grey: Rhys.

• Doctor Grey wasn't exaggerating when he said the situation was "unprecedentedly dire".
• The roars emanating from the treatment room are akin to those of a wild beast, devoid of any humanity.
• You: Why did this happen?

• Like a scene from an old asylum photograph, I see Rhys strapped tightly to the bed frame with various restraints.
• His bloodshot eyes betray no hint of rationality, and saliva drips from his snarling mouth, revealing swollen and decaying gums.
• Even the experienced nurses dare not approach him, their eyes turning to Doctor Grey for his instructions.
• Edward Grey: We can't proceed with the treatment like this.

• Edward Grey: We need to sedate him first. Prepare for anesthesia. Inhaler. Chloroform.

If you persuaded Niamh's mother in 3-15

• Nurse B: We've tried, doctor. He struggled so hard that the inhaler won't stay on.

• As if to confirm the nurse's words, Rhys suddenly lurches his body, violently thrashing about despite the restraints, desperately trying to break free from his confinement.
• Edward Grey: ...

If you pleaded with Doctor Grey in 3-15

• Nurse A: Bad news, doctor.

• The elderly nurse glances at me with displeasure.
• Nurse A: The last bottle of chloroform was used up during the surgery.

• Nurse A: Just as Miss Rayes had predicted, we are now indeed facing a patient with a low survival rate.

• Her veiled words pierce straight through my heart.
• For a moment, all eyes turn to me. Their expressions openly convey reproach and anger, yet there is no mockery.
• In the face of life and death, no one rejoices in the face of misfortune.
• Edward Grey: Thank you.

• Doctor Grey decisively halts the judgmental gazes upon me.

• After a fleeting moment of contemplation, he makes his decision.
• Edward Grey: Secure his left arm, disinfect the injection site, and prepare for intravenous administration.

• Nurse B: What are we injecting? Morphine?

• Edward Grey: Just do as I say.

• The nurse hesitates for a moment before stepping out of the treatment room to prepare the syringe.
• I lean against the wall, my fingernails digging into my palms, the sharp pain a constant reminder to stay calm.
• He turns towards me, his face composed as he approaches. His deep voice carries an unwavering resolve.
• Edward Grey: Caroline, I need your help.

• You: What do you need me to do?

• Edward Grey: Ordinary infected individuals can fight the disease with their own immune systems. However, Rhys contracted the infection through direct contact with contaminated blood samples.

• Edward Grey: Conventional treatments will no longer work. We must try other methods.

• You: Are you planning to use—

• The words "my blood" nearly escape my lips, but I manage to catch myself just in time. He nods solemnly.
• You: Are you sure about this?

• Edward Grey: Although previous inoculation research didn't succeed, it did prove that your blood samples can weaken the pathogens.

• Edward Grey: I need you to know that this method will be risky. Will you give it a try?

• To prevent the others from hearing, he leans in close, gently clasps my hand, and lowers his voice.
• Even his softest words strike me to the core and leave me breathless.
• Edward Grey: Will you give it a try?

• His question isn't simply asking if I am willing to donate blood.
• He's telling me that it is a complete gamble to inject my blood directly into Rhys, who has lost his resistance to the virus.
• Live or die. There is no third option.
• This is the life-or-death choice I face.
• This is natural selection.

I can't do it

• You: I... I can't do it, Edward.

• You: I'm sorry, I...

• He holds on to my hand gently, without any hint of blame in his tone.
• Edward Grey: I understand your fear, Caroline. It takes a tremendous amount of courage.

• Edward Grey: Take a look at Rhys, look at him now. Can you remember how lively of a child he was?

• Edward Grey: You can save him. You have the ability to save him...

• You: Please, Edward, stop talking!

• You: I'm really sorry, but I just can't do it.

• Edward Grey: ...

• He slowly releases my hand and lowers his head to gaze at me.
• I dare not look up, afraid to see the disappointment in his eyes. But he seems unsurprised by my choice.
• Edward Grey: No need to apologize, Miss Rayes. I was being reckless.

• He gracefully takes a step back, his expression revealing no signs of joy or anger.
• Edward Grey: You should head back. The upcoming treatment will be too harsh for you.

• Edward Grey: I'll go find you once this ends.

• He said "once this ends", but didn't mention how it would end.
• As the door creaks open, nurses with prepared equipment stream back into the treatment room. Doctor Grey immediately steps away from me and starts having a discussion with them.
• No one pays any attention to me, a mere outsider.

• I hastily retreat to the lodging house.
• The night remains shrouded in darkness. The bedsheets still retain a hint of warmth, beckoning me back into the realm of dreams.
• Yet, as I plunge into its embrace, tears that can no longer be contained well up and spill forth.

I'll do it

• His warm and steady hand gives me immense courage.
• Unconsciously, my fingers tighten slowly, gripping his hand.
• You: Let's do it.

• Edward Grey: You are even braver than I thought, Caroline.

• You: I'm not.

• You: To be honest, I'm really scared. If Rhys receives the injection but his condition doesn't improve, or even worsens...

• You: In a sense, we're the ones responsible for his death.

• Edward Grey: ...

• He does not immediately refute this statement, but instead, he looks at me thoughtfully, with a peculiar gleam in his eyes.
• Edward Grey: Even so, you're willing to give it a try.

• Edward Grey: Even so, you are willing to bear the weight of death to save others.

• You: I have been bestowed with a special kind of blood, Edward.

• You: Perhaps this is what I must do.

• This is the second time I have said something like this to him.
• Edward remains silent. Still clutching my hand, he turns his palm upward, and then bends down deeply.
• Almost reverently, he presses his lips to my wrist, over the light blue veins.
• You: ...

• He lingers for a long time and I feel his hot breath spreading along my bare arm.
• The hurried footsteps outside the door draw near. I can't help but pull my hand away slightly, feeling a bit embarrassed, and gently remind him.
• You: E-Edward... Outside...

• He finally raises his head, a slightly mischievous smile playing on his lips—a smile I've never seen before.
• Thankfully, he releases my hand just in time. The next second, the nurse bursts through the door.
• Nurse A: Doctor, syringe.

• Edward Grey: Thank you. Leave the rest to me and Miss Rayes. Go take a break.

• Everyone's attention is focused on me again. However, they don't seem too surprised.
• Nurse A: Doctor Grey, I don't think Miss Rayes has any nursing training...

• Edward Grey: I understand.

• He cuts off the nurse's further inquiries with a simple answer. The elderly nurse shrugs helplessly and leaves the treatment room, full of doubts.
• As the footsteps fade away, I swiftly unbutton my sleeve to expose my veins.
• Edward Grey: Bear with it for a moment.

• You: Please, Edward. I've had so many blood draws, I'm not nervous anymore.

• Once again, fresh blood is drawn from my body.
• After removing the needle, Edward firmly insists that I return to my dorm and rest immediately.
• Part of the reason for this might be his concern for my health, but I fear he is more afraid that I cannot handle the blow of the failed treatment.
• Under the influence of his persistence and my physical exhaustion, I give up on the idea of staying and return to the lodging house.
• The night remains shrouded in darkness. The bedsheets still retain a hint of warmth, beckoning me back into the realm of dreams.
• I lie on the bed, trying to doze off. But Rhys' fate hangs over me like the sword of Damocles.

• ...
• You: What time is it?

• Emerging from a hazy state again, I find the night sky outside my window has started to turn blue.
• Edward is still not back. I check the time: 2:58 AM. Just over an hour has passed, and it is almost dawn.
• You: ...

• I don't feel like I slept at all.
• Like a smoke-belching train, the interrupted dream from earlier approaches from a distance.
• Memories remain shrouded in a dense fog. And now, from within this bottomless haze, the thread of Ariadne is cast forth.
• You: ...Where did I put it?

• I open the luggage and reach into it.
• Suddenly, my fingertips come into contact with a cold, hard, sharp object.
• In the dim light, the dagger gleams and eagerly yearns to leap into my palm.
• I shift the dagger slightly and feel the paper pressed beneath it once more. Eagerly, I pull it out.

Akerman-Noble Families-Influential

• You: William Akerman... noble families... influential...

• My fingertips land on the cross and begin searching for the target.
• The hidden thread in my mind unravels automatically, guiding my fingers towards—
• You: Vampire hunter.

• The pastor's revolver in the dream, the revolver Edward often uses, and the revolver casually sketched on the paper are all connected.
• Is this it? Is William Akerman really Edward Grey's foster father?

• Jesse Lindvall: I only know that his foster father was a priest in a remote parish.

• Jesse Lindvall: According to Edward, his foster father was very strict with him. I'm guessing the foster father is the reason for his grim personality.

• You: How did Doctor Grey's foster father pass away?

• Jesse Lindvall: In a fire, if I remember right. It was 13 years ago.

• You: Where is Pastor William now?

• Rhys: I heard there was a fire.

• You: A fire?!

• Rhys: One evening, Pastor William's church caught fire, resulting in the death of several people. The pastor disappeared.

• Rhys: He's probably dead.

• Roger Evans: This was his church.

• Roger Evans: On a dark night thirteen years ago, his church caught fire, killing and injuring many patients inside.

• Roger Evans: The pastor himself went missing afterwards.

• Roger Evans: I also talked to the current pastor, who said that after that fire, the strange sickness in the Eastern District completely disappeared.

• Vincent Savile: William Akerman was the representative of certain noble families in England at that time.

• Vincent Savile: He reached certain agreements with the Elder; the specific details of which were unclear, but it must have been a collaboration based on mutual benefit.

• Vincent Savile: William Akerman took over the Blood Clan's duties and began hunting regular humans on behalf of the Elder.

• Vincent Savile: And the Elder provided them with certain things that only the Blood Clan could offer.

• Could it be true? That Pastor William Akerman, the Saint of the Eastern District, is actually connected to the Elder of the Blood Clan?
• He left his silver revolver to Edward Grey and taught him about vampires.
• Thirteen years ago, when a strange epidemic broke out, William Akerman, acting like a saint, took in a large number of the sick and poor.
• Now, thirteen years later, when a strange epidemic broke out, Doctor Edward Grey—
• Edward Grey: Caroline.

• You: !

• He lifts a corner of the cloth curtain and anxiously gazes at me.
• Edward Grey: Are you still awake?

• You: I... um, I can't sleep. How is Rhys doing?

• I turn to face him and quietly put the paper back into the luggage behind me.
• Edward Grey: His condition has stabilized for now, at least not as severe as before.

• Edward Grey: He is now in a deep sleep, and I have asked the nurse to closely monitor his vitals. Perhaps he will wake up by dawn, or perhaps...

• He pauses for a moment and lets out a soft sigh.
• Edward Grey: We have done everything we can. Now it's up to him.

• A wave of dizziness hits me, and I involuntarily lean against the wall.
• Doctor Grey supports me with a hint of nervousness. The moment our skin touches, the cold sweat on my palm sends a shiver down his spine.
• Edward Grey: Are you feeling unwell?

• You: It's okay. I... I just had a nightmare.

• Edward Grey: What kind of nightmare? Do you need some sedatives?

• You: No. Medications are in short supply now. Don't waste them on me.

• Edward Grey: It's not a waste if it makes you feel better.

• His affectionate tone, laced with a hint of reproach, causes my heart to flutter slightly. The dim light from the silver revolver in my dream seems to pierce my eyes.
• You: Edward.

• I tightly grasp his hand, hoping to gain some strength from the warmth in his palm.
• You: I can't sleep. Can you take a walk with me?

• My words almost carry a hint of pleading.
• He remains silent and pulls me into his embrace, before murmuring a hushed "yes".