Wihelm von Richtofen hated this god forsaken city. It smelled awful, the buildings all looked the same and most of the people he had met were incredibly rude. The colorful people of Whitechapel would barely acknowledge the Prussian-born gentleman. That is, everyone who didn't shirk away from the man with a revolver and a 3 foot saber attached to his hip. Then there was the rain. London, and most of England for that matter, made the rainiest places in the Reich seem like dried out deserts in comparison. Still, he wasn't exactly welcome back home anymore. He couldn't even see his family, his friends in the army, or even Marie. That last one hurt him most of all. He was all ready to buy her a ring, too...

He was shaken out of his revery by a high pitched scream. It sounded like a girls scream. Wilhelm broke into a run in that general direction, nearly bumping into Sir Eric Easton, shotgun in his hand. Hoping that Sir Easton had a better knowledge of East London that Wilhelm did, he decided to follow. They both turned the corner and saw what could only have been a young girl, in her early teens. It was hard to tell, as viscera and blood were pooled down around her. [i]Mein,Gott im Himmel![/i] Wilhelm said, disgusted. He had seen gore before but never like this.