The cold hard bed of the London police station left me groaning with displeasure, as I couldn’t seem to get comfortable. However, it was better than the cold and damp alleyway. Of course, this whole scenario was stupid. After getting arrested I was questioned for several hours without rest. I ended up telling them everything that happened short of how I thought I was from the future, and how I got beat up.

They, of course, assumed I was insane and locked me up. Although there was no proof, I had been discovered with the unconscious woman, and was assumed to be her attacker. Mainly because my story was too insane for them to think it was true. It’s not like I blame them, they’re just being rational.

Stretching out once more, I had hoped to get comfortable but to no avail. The officers did believe one thing about my story, but at the mere mention of it, they groaned. The man with the ponytail and flask. They refused to tell me anything about him, but they wouldn’t deny that I saw him. The possibility of them believing the rest of my story wouldn’t rise even if that man gave testimony to my claim, he just wasn’t a reliable source, as they'd put it.

I wasn’t even sure if what I saw was real either, and I sure as hell wouldn’t believe me had I been hearing the same story. I had killed a man by punching him with coins and having him accidentally swallow one. What made even less sense was the fact that he faded into dust directly thereafter. It was definitely something that you wouldn’t consider normal.

The same thing happened to the other man who faced Mr. Ponytail. How? I don’t know. Maybe the coins and the guy's gloves were magical and shit. All I knew was that they died. Because of that, I was now under arrest, and suspected of attacking a woman. I had too many questions, but the more I thought about it, the more depressed I became.

It was now about three in the morning, and I couldn’t get any sleep because of what happened. The police were kinda weirded out by my watch as it was digital and digital watches weren’t created for a long time but they confiscated it. It might be the only thing I have from the future that could be considered useful.

It was then that I noticed the sound of footsteps on creaking wood coming towards my cell. Rolling over, I sat up just in time for Mr. Ponytail to stop at the door of my cell, followed by one of the officers that interrogated me earlier. “You’re free to go,” the officer said, as he reached the door and unlocked the cell.

“Really? And what about all that about me being insane?” I asked sarcastically.

“The woman we thought you attacked woke up briefly and said that she was attacked by three men that matched the description you gave us to the letter. She also said she never saw a man matching your description,” the officer apologized.

“I told you that I wasn’t lying,” I said with a tired but prideful smirk.

“Well, we still think you’re insane but this man here…” he groaned, as he gestured at Mr. Ponytail, “said he requires your assistance with a matter of importance that goes beyond our paygrade, as he put it.”

“I’m standing right here, ya twit,” Mr. Ponytail said, giving the officer the stink eye, before pulling out his flask and taking a swig.

“Alright, as long as it gets me off the street, I don’t care what you need me for. My name is Lou Barrett,” I said with confidence before standing up and outstretching my hand for a handshake. He eyed me up and down for a moment, before finally accepting the handshake with a grip that made me want to writhe in pain. He kept holding it until the pain started showing on my face.

“Scott Langston, and don’t be so cheery,” he said as he released my hand from his gorilla-like grip. I had plenty of questions about what happened earlier that night, but something told me that asking him in the police station wasn’t the best idea. The officer gave me my watch back and apologized for the inconvenience before I left.

After we left the police station, Scott Langston heaved out a heavy sigh before trudging down the foggy London street with me in tow. Then, he began to speak. It caught me completely off guard as I wasn’t ready, mainly due to my lack of sleep.

“Ya want to know what happened? I know that you’re curious,” Scott said confidently.

“...” I couldn’t say anything, not because I had nothing to say, but because I was surprised that he knew what I wanted to ask.

“Cat got your tongue, or did you forget everything that happened?” Scott asked sarcastically.

“No, I just am not sure where to start. Someone turned to dust after swallowing a coin, then you came in and turned the other one into dust as well, and before I could get a word out, you ran off after the third dude,” I spurted out.

“I was actually wondering how you managed that, most people wouldn’t have been able to kill a changeling… Especially armed with only the silver coins you had in your hand. Also, the one I gave chase did look like he had terrible taste in clothes, now that I think about it,” Scott said, as he placed his hand on his chin and looked up in thought.

“Did you say, ‘changeling’?” I asked with a surprised tone while ignoring that last part.

“Yes, what you fought were not one but three changelings. They are capable of taking the form of any living being. Their weakness, as with all monsters, is silver, but a few are sensitive to iron. This is precisely why they reacted to some of your coins. The monarchy is slowly reducing the amount of silver in coins... You’re lucky you had some of the old ones,” he blurted out as if he were an English professor that was making a point. I was muted by what was just explained to me. How should I respond? It’s not like I didn’t just show up in this time period with no warning whatsoever. Noticing my obvious silence, Scott continued.

“Monsters and other supernatural phenomena are in fact real, for the most part. I work for the Table, a group created to keep the peace between beings of supernatural origin. We also hunt down and exterminate supernatural beings that want to destroy the peace. I had been hunting those three that you encountered for several days, and one is still on the loose as of now, since I could not keep up with it,” Scott explained further.

“...” I still didn’t know what to say. Either he’s insane or everything he’s saying is true and I can’t tell which.

“That’s where you come in. You were able to kill a changeling, a feat that would require at least some training to pull off, with just your fist and a few coins,” he explained, before grabbing his flask and taking another swig, only to realize there was nothing left for him to drink.

“Funny, I could have sworn I filled this earlier… Well, want to get a drink?” I was surprised he still wanted to drink more. The closer I got to him, the more I realized he stunk of rum. He must be one of those lost causes with an iron liver. Knowing that I couldn’t really say no, I agreed and followed. Plus, I wanted to learn more about this so-called Table. It seemed rather interesting.

The place that Scott had led me to was probably the only tavern in all of London, with all its majestic size, that was open at three in the morning. The walls were made of old wood that would have rotted away years ago had they not been on the inside of the building. The whole place reeked of alcohol in an unsettling way, and half of the tables and chairs were partially broken.

There was even a loft, but I wouldn’t be caught dead up there, It looked as if it could come crashing down any moment. The only good thing about it was the fact that, other than us and the bartender, the only people here were passed out in strange sleeping positions. Scott seemed unfazed by any of this. He only really seemed to care about the alcohol that he was drinking. The moment we arrived here, he even had the bartender go ahead and fill his flask.

I assume he might have the ability to never get drunk no matter how much he drank. That in itself was a scary thought to me. Once he’s had his drink, he should start telling me what exactly was going on, as he refused to say any more until he was back at drinking. Yet, he still wasn't saying anything, so I decided to initiate the conversation.

“So… monsters exist. Can you tell me more about this Table, and what the hell just happened?” I asked awkwardly. He looked up from his drink, and stared into my eyes for a second with a kinda dumbfounded glare, before finally turning back to his drink.

“I told you before. What you fought were changelings, one of many kinds of supernatural beings. I remove them if they get violent because that is what the Table does as a whole,” he reiterated.

“...” He saw my silence as me waiting for him to elaborate, I guess, because that’s what he did.

“Monsters and other mythical creatures have existed since the dawn of mankind, maybe even before. By studying them or mating with them, some humans received magical abilities, creating witches and sorcerers. I can introduce you to a few of the nicer ones later. The group I belong to is known as the Table, and has hunted violent creatures since the time of King Arturius, better known as King Arthur. Merlin, Arthur's aid, was a sorcerer, and many of his knights were creatures or sympathizers that he had befriended. Together, they were known as the Round Table. Since then, the Round Table has changed names and spread throughout the world, coming to be known today as the Table. Although there were people, mainly religious zealots, who hunted the violent creatures, the Round Table was the first organization gathered for that single cause, to protect the peace between the two sides,” Scott elaborated with a tired and bored expression.

I wasn’t exactly surprised that King Arthur had been brought up in this conversation, but I had no real response. So instead, I spat out the stupidest thing I could have said, but the only thing I could think of. I asked him about every mythical creature I could think of, and whether they were real or not,“So… vampires are real?”

“Yes.”

“Changelings?”

“One tried to kill you earlier.”

“Fenrir's?”

“Only in Italy and Denmark.”

“Leprechauns?”

“They run all the banking systems in the British Isles.”

“What?” I asked, stupefied.

“They can remember anything related to currency. And like dragons, they hoard wealth. And they also live three times as long as humans do.”

“Werewolves?” He Kinda paused for a moment before answering, as if he was having a horrid flashback.

“They are nearly extinct, partially because of me,” he said with a solemn look. I decided he had some kind of vendetta with werewolves, so I didn’t pursue that any further.

“Booze Sprites?”

“If there is a Sprite in my booze, so help me God, I will lock it in an iron-silver cage and shake it around until it dies,” after he finished his threat he set his drink down, and a small glimmer rose out of the cup and sped off with lightning-like speed. He had turned away just in time to not see it, but I nearly spat out my own drink. Noticing my reaction, Scott swatted out his arm and caught the ball of light in his hand. At some point, of which I had only noticed now, was that Scott had removed his gloves. Bringing his closed hand closer to his face, he whispered something into his hand. Then, with what looked to be a nod of agreement, he opened up his hand, and the light flew off.

“I’m surprised you could see it as it truly was. Most people can’t see supernatural creatures that want to blend in,” Scott said with an intrigued look.

“Why can’t people see them?” I asked.

“Most intelligent supernatural beings have a second form that allows them to blend in with the human world. Changelings are some of the few that can have as many forms as they want. Though forms can be either flesh, which causes physical changes to their body, or mimicry, which alters people's perception of them. That sprite was the latter,” Scott explained.

“I could never see that before,” I said with a genuinely confused look.

“That’s strange. Either people are born with that ability or they learn to see them. However, you do not seem to know how you came to be able to see them. That is interesting. Were you, perchance, possessed at any point recently?” he asked, though his face showed that he was joking.

“Alright, what about this Table? How do you function? Is it government-run or independent?” I asked, brushing off his question. In the corner of the bar, one drunkard who had been sleeping got up groggily whilst holding his head, and meandered out of the bar. Scott waited to speak till the man had left, admiring the natural foam of the drink until the drunk had left.

“There are a couple thousand agents worldwide, but we are not everywhere, only where we are allowed to be. Some governments would rather deal with monsters themselves. But because of a lack of personnel, I am the only true agent in all of London. Thus, it is entirely my district. There is also a sorcerer and a witch that I am on friendly terms with, and they help me from time to time… Otherwise, it’s just me. That is why I would like to recruit you,” he said, without a care for the fact that I had brushed off his question.

“So.. you want me to join this Table and help you fight monsters and protect London?” I asked.

“In a way, yes,” he said, before taking a sip of his drink.

“Dope,” I replied with an eager attitude.

“There will be no drugs,” he stated sternly.

“No, it’s an idiom. It means awesome,” I tried to explain.

“I don’t see what this has to do with religion,” Scott said with a slightly confused look. I was starting to realize that some terms had changed over time. I can tell him that I’m from the future, right? He deals with the supernatural all the time, so he might not think that I’m crazy, right? He did save me as well, so I think I can trust him.

“It’s a term from the future.” I said matter-of-factly.

“What?” he retorted with a dumbfounded look. I kind of felt as if he were looking at me in a different light now.

“The future, I’m from the future, and those phrases are commonplace in the future. Specifically, the twenty-first century,” I explained further

“The future, huh… Guess I really have to take you to that sorcerer I mentioned, to see if you’re telling the truth,” Scott said calmly.

“Great, I can’t wait. Though, I’m still trying to wrap my head around the idea that monsters exist. Perhaps the alcohol will make it sound more believable,” I said, before gulping down my mug. Scott and I drank for a good while, before I blacked out.