The year was 1888 and I was still in my youth. Traveling the old cobble stone streets of London. Women passed me by with their hair spiraling down their necks. A restraining hand crooked in the arms of top hatted men. Male eyes filled with lust as they stared down low cut hems of fashioned gowns. A odd distaste filled my mind. Was it a unchecked hatred that began to form in the pits of my heart, or was something in my past that demanded to be released. At that time I wasn't sure. I simply let my green gaze fall to the ground. It seemed longer I stared into the crowd more my thoughts ran into abnormality. How could I have such a treacherous mind. Taking a deep breath I focused all my attention on leather tipped points of my heeled shoes. One would disappear beneath the light blue fabric of my flowing dress, while the other lead the way. These streets were embedded in my memory. My vision never seemed to be needed. To my left was the Smith's Bakery. Several rolls would be glistening behind the letter printed windows, and to my right was the town library. The sounds of large oak doors opening and closing seemed more frequent today. I'm sure Mrs. Cravette was having a fit from all the noise. She was the current librarian. Recently widowed, and a grouchy old hag. The same distaste came back into my soul. No matter how hard I tried to distract myself it was always waiting. Like a coiled viper ready to strike. Before I could finish my thoughts the sound of a door bell rang before me. "Ring ring." It was the local tavern, I had managed to get their in a hurry. Lifting my eyes to the weathered sign that swung lightly from a small breeze. The letters etched deeply into the wood read, "Main street brothel." It was always amusing that it was called a brothel. The word it self was displeasing. "To waste away." I muttered the words aloud. With one gloved hand I reached out to the rusted handle. Pulling the door slowly open, candle light filled my gaze. Circle tables were abundant in the room, and cards littered the floor. Several eyes lifted to meet my own. Odd it would be to see me alone. A woman without a man hanging on her arm was usually a negative sign. However, I didn't care what they would think. I'm safe in my own mind. Serenity thought to herself as she walked quickly over to a empty table in the back. She lifted her gaze to stare emptily at the bar. Several bottles of bourbon stacked to the ceiling. Though she was not thirsty just amused by her own reflection. A noble of sorts she would seem. Her wealth of red hair spiraled down her back. Expensive jewelry graced her neck to lead to the finest silks of her dress.