Miss Thrush's Loop is the name for a loop that is run by Millicent Thrush.
History[]
The loop seemed to be Miss Thrush's main loop. She had another loop that she shared with Miss Nightjar. It's unknown when the loop was exactly established but it would become home to several children.
The entrance of the loop is through a crypt under St. Paul's Cathedral. Peculiar pigeon's seemed to like the loop and would constantly fly in and out of it. An unnamed author would use these two facts would to create the story The Pigeons of St. Paul's. The story would later appear in a Tales of the Peculiar copy.
Sometime in the early twenty first century the loop would be raided by wights. Miss Thrush and most of her wards would be taken. Only three of her kids wouldn't be taken in the raid; Melina Manon and The Bone Brothers. Five people who seemed to be in the loop during the attack, including A. F. Crumbley, committed suicide so they wouldn't be dragged off.
Miss Thrush most likely abandoned the loop after the event's of Library of Souls (book).
Description[]
The steps were slimed with moss and difficult to climb. They ascended the wall to meet a circular, person-sized door in the ceiling, through which shone a single gleam of light. There's a crack and the doors slid open like a camera shutter, revealing a tubular conduit of bricks that rose twenty or thirty feet to a circle of sky. I was at the false bottom of a fake well.
The shabby-looking house has a courtyard. The sky was an infected shade of yellow, but there was no smoke in it and no sound of engines. There was a chill in the air, and errant flakes of snow drifted down and melted on the ground. The top side of the well was painted to look like the surface of water—dark, dirty water you’d never want to drop a drinking bucket into. The courtyard and the house were suffering from serious neglect. The grass around the well was tamped down, but everywhere else it grew up in weedy thickets that reached higher than some of the ground-floor windows. A doghouse sat rotting and half collapsed in one corner, and near it a toppled laundry line was gradually being swallowed by brush. From beyond the house’s walls, the sound of horses’ hooves tapping on pavement can be heard. The laundry room has fresh-looking clothes in a hamper, a washboard hung neatly above a sink. The second-floor hallway was littered with debris. A door, torn from its hinges, lay splintered. Through the broken doorway was a fallen tower of trunks and dressers; a failed blockade. In the next room, the white carpet was soaked with blood—the stain that had leaked through the floor to the ceiling below. The last door in the hall showed no signs of forced entry. There was a wardrobe, a dresser topped with carefully arranged figurines, lace curtains fluttering in a window. The carpet was clean and everything undisturbed. At the top, there is a smoke-damaged landing. A low doorway leads to a narrow, slope-walled attic. Everything here was burned black and the flames had made gaping holes in the roof.
Known Residents[]
Current[]
Former[]
- A. F. Crumbley
- Unnamed two men
- Unnamed two skeletons