Turner's Textiles Warehouse.
"Well, at least we're out of that fiendish fog."
"Yes, but the angel is nipping at our 'eels. I can barely make it out, there, just outside the doors!"
"Well then, perhaps we should take our places in that alcove there. Time to implement our spectral illusion."
"One of us needs to stay here, to release the chains and trap the cove. They can take cover behind these crates."
"Perhaps two of us should volunteer, an extra pair of eyes can't hurt."
"Well Litefoot, I volunteer!"
"Ellie, I.."
"Volunteer too? Course ya do, Prof. Then it's decided. Mr. J can be the bait."
"If you're sure, Ellie. I was about to bravely offer my services, but you two piped me too it."
"We'd best not tarry. Good luck, Henry."
"You too, George. Ellie."
"Places gents!"
Jago hurried to take his place in the concealed alcove. Here, he did not have a clear line of sight on the Angel, though it was able to see him, thanks to the optical illusion created by the apparatus. With periodic blinding, he was able to discretely lure the creature towards the glass pane. Meanwhile, Ellie and George took occasional furtive glances around the crate which was their cover, readying to release the binding chains from overhead.
As the Angel drew near the glass, reaching out a stony arm, fingers clawed and a face of tormented rage, Litefoot released the rope binding the chains to the rafters. With a thundering, jangling crash, the metal links fell about the angel, smashing the glass pane in their inexorable rush to meet the ground. "Aha!", cried Henry, in jubilant triumph. "We have it now!"
"Don't be too hasty, old chap. Those chains are not tight enough, and we must still affix the ends to guarantee it won't break free."
"It took 3 of Quick's men to lug that lot in here. Moving the chains again wasn't part of this plan!"
"Well, we'll just have to make do with ourselves in this case."
"Allow me, gents. Don't forget, I'm still stronger than I look."
With that, Ellie raced towards the statue, intent on repositioning the chain about the creature. In her haste, she failed fully navigate the tangled maze of glass and metal under her feet. Her foot caught on a raised loop of chain, and she fell to her hands. All eyes were suddenly on her: Ellie admired her wounded arms, while George and Jago looked at Ellie. So did the angel, feeling the weight of the investigators gaze shift away from it.
With a simultaneous motion, the trio turned to stare at the angel, in a moment of sickening recollection. Once again frozen in stoney silence, the Weeping Angel loomed over Ellie, arm reaching out, near her ankle. Surrounding her ankle it it's unbreakable grip, she realised. With a bare gap between its hand and her flesh. She was trapped. From a bond couldn't escape.
"Ellie? Are you alright?"
"Yeah, Mr. J. I'll live. But.. I've got some bad news. It's got a grip on me leg. Tight like. I'm stuck."
"There's got to be something we can do. Professor! Please... Any suggestions?"
"We could try and chisel it's wrist, freeing you."
"No Litefoot. No time. I'm already a goner.. Worry about yourselves and stopping this creature!"
"Nonsense, there must be some way. Jago, fetch a chisel!"
"Leave it. I'm done for... Professor Dark said there would be a victim tonight. Guess it's my lucky day."
"But Ellie..."
"Hush now, Professor. Don't mourn me, just dry your eyes and I'll be gone before you've finished."
With that, both gentlemen blinked, partly out of respect for Ellie's wishes, partly out of a reaction to their eyes moistening...
With a dull popping flump, Ellie winked out of this time and space, while Jago & Litefoot stood helpless, facing an unbound foe, having lost their dearest friend.
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