"Oh Abraham, mon cher, what am I to do?" I groaned, collapsing back onto the chair of a vanity that rested in the corner of my temporary home.

It was a whore house, to be perfectly blunt. And though I was not a whore, the rent was cheep and the food was hot. As long as I kept up a steady stream of money I wouldn't have to sell myself in order to pay for the room.

Unfortunately, I gave the last of my money to that group of children and the rent was due tomorrow.

You have no money. The creature- Abraham, as I had named him, stated blandly.

"I know."

Shall I crush whomever comes to call on you?

I sighed and glared at myself in the vanity's aged mirror. "No, that won't be necessary. You may sleep now, Abraham. I'll call you if you are needed."

The brute nodded once and stood against the far wall, his eyes shut and his chest still.

I looked back at the mirror and raised a hand to remove the styled white wig that sat upon my cranium.

Basha Pascal, a pretty little Jewish girl from Paris, was as bald as the day she was born.

I scowled at my own reflection and pushed the mirror away.

Instead of looking at myself, I decided to look upon my creation. Abraham.

Made from clay with a soul breathed into him, Abraham was my finest work. A golem.

His name stood out sharply, carved against the faux pale flesh of his forehead: אברהם

Hebrew was an ancient language and it helped bring to life my darling monster.

He was a fairly ugly looking brute. I had tried making him look handsome, but there was only so much one could do with a pile of clay.

But he was strong and he protected me and that's all that really mattered.

A knock came suddenly at the door, making me jump.

"Juste une minute s'il-vous-plaît!" I called out, shoving the wig back onto my bare head.

Rushing to the door, I made sure my wig was situated properly before creaking the wooden slab open.

The house ma'am and landowner stared back at me, a scowl on her fat, heavily made up face.

"May I help you, madame?" I questioned with a sickeningly sweet smile.

"The rent." The older woman stated. Her breath reeked of cheep cigars and alcohol as she extended a pudgy hand.

I scowled. "It's due tomorrow."

"And I want it today."

"Well I don't have it today."

The fat woman grinned. "Well then, I guess you're finally out'a luck, little lady. I've been wanting to get you into the buisness for a while now. I'll send a customer up shortly."

I stared at the woman with my mouth agape as she cackled and began her decent down the stairs.

"Oh, and get that ugly bloke out of there!" She called back as she reached the bottom of the stairs. "Don't want 'im scaring away good money!"

Another cackle and she was gone.

I snarled and slammed the door shut, alarming my golem and alerting him to my distress.

You are frustrated. He observed, dull black eyes slowly sliding open.

I groaned. "Of course I'm frustrated!"

Shall I crush whomever comes to-

"No, no, no! I can get rid of them myself!"

No sooner had the words left my mouth than a knock came on the door.

It was a polite knock, not one I would have expected from some cretin visiting a brothel, but it irritated me all the same.

"Already?" I snarled. "Can't that vieille sorcière give me a moment of peace?"

Checking myself in the mirror once, I groaned at the realization that I hadn't changed out of my costume but went to open the door anyway.

"What do you want you vile-"

I stopped myself short at the man behind the door.

It was the rusty-eyed raven. The man who had helped participate in my little vanishing act earlier that day. In his arms he held a familiar looking bundle.

I must have been staring, for the man coughed into a white-gloved hand. "May I come in, madame?"

He had a very noble english accent that was like liquid chocolate for the ears.

I stared at him for a moment longer before regaining my senses. "Ah, of course monsieur."

He smiled and stepped aside, allowing a smaller body entry first.

It was the child with the eyepatch I had seen in the crowd earlier.

I stared at the pair in confusion as they entered my room and shut the door behind themselves.

How did they find you?

"This is... irregular, no?" I chuckled nervously, ignoring Abraham's question. "The house ma'am hates children. I doubt she would have let you in without reason."

The child smirked and gave a flat chuckle. "Madame, we have only come to ask a few questions, as well as to return your performing curtain."

The raven man- whom I now suspect to be a butler- simply stepped forward and gently placed the midnight curtain in my arms.

I stared at it in astonishment for a moment before once more shaking myself out of my stupor and placing the curtain on the threadbare sheets of my bed.

"Thank you, monsieurs. You say you have questions about the performance?"

The little noble boy shook his head. "Not the performance, per-se. We do however have a few questions about him."

With a point of his cane, the child directed my attention to Abraham who stood immobile in the corner, watching everything with stony eyes.

How did they find you? He asked me once more.

I donned a friendly smile. "Ah, you mean my assistant Abraham. He is a mute, I'm afraid, and as dumb as a rock, but he is indeed a good bodyguard. Perhaps you need some cheep labor, yes?"

The child's lone eye flicked to his butler and instantly the raven had a knife in his hand and was throwing it at my head.

It all happened so fast I was still in shock by the time Abraham was standing over me, a dining knife protruding from his arm.

The golem showed no sign of discomfort as he pulled the knife from his arm to stare at it; the simple creature. The wound oozed wet clay for a moment before hardening and becoming a part of his body once more.

"I assure you, madame, that I have no need for a puppet in my servitude." The child smirked. "Now tell me. Do you believe in coincidence?"