Pictured above is CCTV footage of Nicola Edgington purchasing a knife (also pictured) that she would later use to stab two strangers, killing one of them.
Nicola Edgington had a violent history prior to being convicted of murder. In 2005 Edgington killed her 60 year mother by stabbing her death, a crime that was reduced down to manslaughter due to diminished capacity as she had a diagnosis of both Schizophrenia and emotionally unstable personality traits at the time of the crime. While she was hospitalised as a result of this violent act she was given conditional release in 2009.
While Edgington did have mental health problems, her insight into her issues were great enough that, when she began experiencing symptoms once again in 2011, she was able to recognise her failing health and begged for police to physically detain her under the mental health act. This is where apparent neglect came into play, as despite her violent history and the care plans in place to manage this risk, the hospital decided that a voluntary admission would be better.
Consequently, she would leave the hospital later that day, through a door that should have been locked, and made her way to the store Asda, bought herself a knife and stabbed a 22 year old stranger. This woman managed to wrestle the knife from her. Edgington then stole a knife from a butchers shop, and proceeded to stab a 58 year old woman, who died within a minute of sustaining her injuries.
Sadly, despite her history of mental health issues, and the consensus from psychiatrists that she had been suffering from paranoid delusions and hallucinations during the time of the attacks, the judge refused to acknowledge that she needed mental health treatment - citing a recent medical report instead. For some reason the judge also used the random and unprovoked nature of the attacks as added proof of guilt - despite the fact that this is a common factor in crimes committed by people in the clutches of psychosis.
Edgington was sentenced to life in prison, of which she will serve 37 years.
Your king wrapped his arms around your waist, coaxing you
from a light sleep. You smiled as you ran your hand over his. “Morning,” you mumbled
as you turned over to him.
Crowley rested his forehead against yours. “Morning, my
love.” His gravelly voice made your whole body tingle as he threaded his
fingers through your hair. He only lingered for a moment before shifting towards
his side of the bed. “I would love to lay here with you all day, but I have
matters to address, morons to guide.” He chuckled as he slipped from your
You groaned as the loss of contact. “Please stay? For just a
few more minutes?” you begged as your eyes followed him.
Crowley smiled as he peered down at you. He nodded, slowly
leaning over your body. He pressed a sweet kiss against your neck as his hands
smoothed up your bare sides. “Although it’s nearly impossible to resist this, I
must. A king has his duties.”
You tilted your head as your gaze met his. “But, what is a
queen without her king?” Your words triggered something in him. A smiled
crossed your lips as you watched the fearless King of Hell’s gaze soften.
“My dear, you alone are the most precious thing to ever
exist. You are the one who completes me.” Your heart fluttered at his words.
Although he was the dominant, lethal
leader of Hell, there was still a soft side. A soft side that he would only
show his queen. His lips met yours in a soft, deep kiss before he rose from
bed. “But I must go. Hell needs their king. Without guidance, they a like a
hoard of toddlers in a knife shop.” His eyes scanned over your naked form. “You
are more than welcome to join me in court today.” He turned to his massive
closet, grabbing one of his many
tailored suits. “And once we cut through all of today’s shenanigans, I’m all
“If you think I’ll be helpful,” you answered as you lifted
yourself from bed. Crowley approached you as he buttoned his navy dress shirt.
“Oh, darling, you are always
useful.” He lifted his hand to caress your cheek. “After all, what is a king
without his queen?”
As requested by @awesomebooksuniverse this is a fic for my favorite ACOTAR ship (Feysand, because they’re perfection) using the prompt: “No, I’m not buying you a knife for your birthday!” “But it’s pretty!” “No!”
“No, Rhysand, no, no, I don’t understand how many times I have to…NO!”
Rhys’s hand froze an inch away from the knife, his deep blue eyes flickering to me as a rush of pleading, begging, and wicked threatening that had my toes curling was speared through the bond. But I shoved away that familiar thrill of heat and crossed my arms, mustering as much resolution into my gaze as I could. Rhys’s face puckered in the warm light of the shop, and for a single moment I forgot that this was the High Lord of the Night Court in front of me, that this was death incarnate, night triumphant. For here in this short blink of time, he looked more like a lost puppy, or a child who had been denied his favorite thing to eat. Which I had always assumed had been me, but now it seemed that he would prefer to have that knife—
It was a lovely knife, if I had to admit it.
The polished silver hilt had been fashioned to look like there were flames crawling along the side, and it was studded with small stones of onyx; the blade itself was a sharp, clean obsidian about the length of my forearm, and even in this faint light, I could see my reflection in the polished surface—to be fair, it did look like the sort of weapon for Rhys to wield.
So there’s no reason for me not to have it, he whispered down the bond, faintly enough that I wasn’t certain if he was trying to be subtle or just trying to trick me into thinking it was my own conscious speaking.
“I am not getting you a knife for your birthday,” I said for what may have been the thousandth time, crossing my arms and turning on my heel so I was facing him…and the desperate question written all over his expression.
I quirked an eyebrow, and he leaned forward, rocking on his own heels. “Feyre darling, that is the prettiest knife that I have ever—“
“Do you want a pretty dagger,” I said, “or do you want a dagger that will actually work?”
“Both seems like a perfectly reasonable option,” he offered. “Look at you—you’re spectacular and capable of defending me.”
The eye roll that I failed to hold back was enough to make him grin.
“I already got you a gift.” My desperation was beginning to set in as I thought of excuses and explanations and reasons for not buying that knife that would no doubt be ample reason for Cassian and Azriel to give him enough shit for the rest of his long, immortal life. “I gave it to you this morning, and you invoked your right to use it several times, I seem to recall.” Indeed, my body was still tingling from that encounter…
His eyes flashed, and Rhys went still, tipping his head in a way that made me feel as though I were on display, as if his attention had been snagged from the knife to me…I narrowed my eyes. “We’re going to be late.” Hopefully he did not notice that the way my voice had become a few octaves higher than normal—it was a futile hope, of course, judging by the wicked promise in his grin.
“I’m sure they won’t mind if we—“
“Oh no you don’t.” I waved a finger, pushing my way out of the store while he was distracted—perhaps I could lead him away from the dagger… “Mor, Cassian, and Azriel have been planning this night for months, we’re showing up on time or else we’ll never hear the end of it.”
He was at my side before I realized he’d even moved—even at six hundred, he was graceful and elegant…it was a rather impressive feat for someone so old. I made sure to let that thought slip through the bond, only for him to make a suggestion about all of the physical activities he was still capable of enjoying, and making sure I enjoyed. I pretended to nudge him into a street lamp. Prick.
You do realize you’ll have to make it up to me for refusing me that lovely dagger.
Are you saying there’s something you’d rather have more?
I’m saying that while we may be arriving on time to this party, I propose we leave early.
Do you now?
Are you saying there’s something you’d rather have more? Your moans last night certainly suggest—
I didn’t allow him to finish that statement; that last jibe was enough to make me shove him and winnow to the House of Wind—he could arrive himself, if he was going to behave like that. Of course, it was behavior I typically condoned, but I had a feeling that any scent of arousal around me would instantly be picked up on by the others, and if my sisters, and Lucien, and guests from other courts were going to be here, then it was for the best that I didn’t look like I was about to drag my mate into the nearest close to show him the other gifts I’d gotten for him.
Rhysand’s six hundredth birthday party was not a small affair—I wasn’t entirely sure what I had been expecting, but in addition to the Inner Circle and friends from Velaris, Mor had also taken upon herself to invite Helion, Kallias and Viviane, Tarquin, Varian, and Cresseida—each of whom beamed with a considerable amount of warmth when Rhys appeared not long after I had. I caught the surprise that flickered through the bond, and then the pure delight as he took in the people he had fought so hard, given so much, to protect. The people who now saw him for every bit of the amazing male he was—friends.
And from there…the night went perfectly.
Helion continued to dog Mor, Cassian, and Azriel—though they had adopted flirtatious techniques of their own to keep the Day Lord on his toes without giving him any ground whatsoever—and Varian and Amren had managed to contain themselves long enough to sit through dinner and dessert. Though they were indeed gone by the time the presents were handed over.
Which was, perhaps, the highlight of the night. For after Rhys accepted Tarquin’s gift of an entire ship—it was idling just outside of Velaris, apparently, waiting to be used however Rhys wished—my mate sheepishly handed the High Lord of Summer a medium-sized rectangular package. We all watched in confusion as Tarquin unwrapped it, eyebrows raised, and then blinked in surprise as he howled with laughter and buried his head in his hands. When he’d regained enough composure, he merely said to Rhys, “This is a book about improving your home security.”
“I thought we could get you another important book to replace the old one,” Rhys said with a grin. “And it even comes with pictures.”
Tarquin shook his head again and muttered, “Blood rubies for everyone,” before he took a sip of his wine. But I noticed him eyeing the book more than once throughout the night, and each time I caught his eye we exchanged simple smiles.
And then the final gift appeared in front of Rhys, whom I sensed was stifling a yawn as he gazed around at his friends. He unwrapped this package with a blink…and found himself staring at the dagger from the shop.
“I thought about getting you something practical,” drawled Cassian from where he had set both of his feet on the tabletop and was leaning back in his chair. “And then I remembered whose birthday it was, and you’d want something as obnoxious and fancy as you.”
Rhys swiveled toward me, incredulity sparking in his eyes. “You knew about this, didn’t you.”
I fought back a grin. “Did I know that if you had tried to touch the knife in the shop, the storeowner would have approached you and politely informed you that that particular knife had been placed on hold by one General Commander Cassian?” I swirled my wine. “You could say that.”
Rhys leaned to the side to give me a kiss and said, “Should I get you a matching one?”
“I’d expect nothing less from Prythian’s most dramatic and fancy High Lord.”
“Cheers to that,” muttered Kallias, earning himself a nudge from Viviane.
But the night went as evenings in the Night Court went—that was to say, perfectly.
Publisher: DC Comics
(W) Marguerite Bennett, James TynionIV (A/CA) Steve Epting (CA) J. G. Jones
“The Many Arms Of Death” part two! The criminal haven of Coryana has changed completely in the years since Batwoman left! The biggest change of all? Her closest friends are now her enemies - or they’re corpses! It’s time for Kate Kane to cut to the heart of what’s happening here, and find out who brought the deadly bioweapon Monster Venom into Coryana…but she might get her own heart cut out in the process, by the unbeatable assassin known as the Knife!