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Old 11-14-2010, 05:16 PM
DrakO DrakO is offline
Join Date: November 14, 2010
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Welcome to my newest Fan Fiction, everybody!

Again I apologize for any mistakes or errors in grammar or vocabulary. Just remember that english is not my mother tongue, but what matters in this topic is the story, not the storyteller .


Chapter I
The House of Distinct Street

The House of Distinct Street was a big stone-made ‘beige’ building that occupied most of the block, stretching from one side of the street to the other, alienating all other edifices. It had been built far before any other so it had earned the right of rejecting everything that was ever built after it. The constructors had, however, recently decided to turn Distinct Street into a money-spinning lane, and saw their job threatened seeing that they could never build anything besides those small houses that surrounded the ‘island’. All those big triumphs, for which Distinct Street was predestined, were delayed because of that edifice and, now on the XXI century, that street was one of the few that remained almost as equal as when it as first thought, with a sea of little white houses sprouting from that big secular house.

His ‘birth’ goes back to the XIX century when Filippos Ioanes, a greek surgeon, left his homeland for Great Britain in exchange for his wife’s, Efimia, and unborn son’s life. It seems Dr. Filippos had married that woman, as she came from a really wealthy family, and as such, he could finally pay the debts he contracted when was still a mere medical student. Those debts, as Dr. Filippos once said, had been paid some time after the marriage, with his own money and, for a long, long time, the lovely couple enjoyed what life best had to offer, spoiling money on every luxury that you can think about – including the beautiful greek prostitutes, as his wife was devoid from any kind of beauty and her physical attributes were less to none. Few years later Efimia came home saying it was highly probable that she would be pregnant, to the great content of Dr. Filippos. Sadly, that same day, he announced he would have to leave for a few months to Great Britain to visit a cousin of his who was studying on a London college. Filippo Ioannes went to never return. Years later, the word came saying the truth about how he contracted the debts in Greece. Turns out he was not a real surgeon and instead he bought his title. And that lead him to escape the country. Few days later his announcement of leaving Greece, a group of men approached him and menaced to kill his wife and child in case he wasn’t planning on paying the money. Instead he came up with a much more brilliant scheme: he invested all of his money into the construction of a house, in London, where he could conceal himself and his family, and that was the true purpose of that trip. However, his wife and son ended up being killed during the surgeon’s stay in London, while he was making the last arrangements for their arrival. The years went by, as Filippo Ioannes died from cholera in his bedroom on the second floor, of that newly built ‘castle’ he made. His body was found three days after his death, when a mugger entered the house to rob it. This unfortunate man ended up in jail, and his trial determined him to be guilty of qualified murder.

Since that time, the house of Distinct Street was under the custody of a real estate agency and has been inhabited by all kinds of noble people, being one of the most beautiful, and most expensive, houses in London. One of the people that lived on that house was George Samson, an old journalist that ended his life, owning an old bookstore in downtown London. Grandpa Samson – as his grandchildren called him – had been one of ‘The Times’ major contributors, thus getting a really chunky retirement fund that enabled him to buy all sorts of rare and antique books, as well as some high priced paintings, that unfortunately didn’t catch the mass’ attention.

Due to his ‘widowness’, Grandpa lived alone in that massive house, so, to take him out of that loneliness, his two kids, that were not kids anymore, hired a young, well-fed, illiterate boy, whose name was Fabó, to keep him company and help around the house with his daily chores. Since then, Grandpa Samson and Fabó grew close and turned out to be great companies for each other, despite the linguistic hindrances, which George Samson found particularly amusing. The young Hungarian boy became somewhat of a protégé of old man Samson, and he became the father that Fabó never had.

On a fine, fresh morning Fabó had left the house to complete his routine of buying everything that was needed for the house. They were short on vegetables and fruits so the young boy rushed to the market wearing the worst clothes he had and a beard of 20 years that urgently needed to be shaved. Grandpa Samson told him dozens of times that with that outfit – a dark dirty t-shirt completely torn apart; trousers that were more holes than trousers; and the beard that the young man treasured – he could certainly gain the kindness of some shopkeepers and thus getting the products at a way lower price.

It’s interesting to note that, although Grandpa Samson possessed an enormous monthly income, he was pretty tight-fisted and always tried to bargain the price of the stuff he wanted or needed. As Fabó was a little thick-headed and had no aptness for negotiating (even though George Samson tried to teach him how to do it, the best he could do was piss off the vendor and have a lettuce or a turnip thrown at him), the old man had come up with the brilliant strategy to pass him for a needy young man and the rest was up to the goodness and kindness on the salesperson’s heart. Even with that strategy, Fabó didn’t seem more than a good-looking man that didn’t know how to wash and dress himself. Therefore the perks that the young man was offered, were mainly from the female merchants that offered anything but low prices.
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