Lightly shifting his weight from one foot to the other, arms tugged around himself, Richard turned to stand facing the wall, teeth still clattering.
If its all the same to you Father ill stay here as well, LORD is it cold! How can you people not be shivering?
Roland notes the shattered glass at the apartment door, but Ang points it out first. Roland looks askance at the asian man when his language suddenly improves, realizing there might be more to the chinaman than meets the eye. "Well spotted Mr Ang." The detective turns to Tommy, "That's right, I may be feeling a mite paranoid after tonight's events, but my gut is telling me it's very important we check on Miss Kelley immediately." Disliking the idea of splitting up, Richard does see the value in getting as much information as possible, "Alright, but shout if you need us -right quick!" and gestures for Ang to proceed him, "Lead on Mr Ang, let us find this mystery lurker you saw."
Jossem stays with the Father and Dick. He seems a tad nervous to be standing out here in such a neighborhood. He's suddenly very aware of how differently he's dressed than the others.
Ang follows Roland back down the alley to Dorset street. He looks down the dark, foggy lane to see if he can spot the fellow that was there when first they passed.
Perception:
Roland, seeing Ang looking once more, decides to help him look.
Clive and Xin see nothing. The figure, if ever there, is not now.
"Our lurker seems to have moved off..bugger that!", Ang mutters to himself. He looks over to Roland and says, "He no here now. Where we go look now sir?"
Tommy returns his attention to the door. He turns the handle, to open in, assuming that it's unlocked.
The handle clicks, and the door begins to open, the hinges screaming.
From somewhere nearby, a plodding tune sounds from somewhere nearby; a minor refrain floating through the cold night air. The source of the tune is difficult to pinpoint in the urban canyon of the alley, it seems to come from every direction.
The tune is a variation on the Irish song A Violet From Mother's Grave. Though the song is somewhat upbeat, (odd, considering the subject matter) this version is almost dirge-like in its performance.
The refrain complete, a strong, voice, in a sotto tone begins to sing.
"The hours sad I left a maid, lingering farewell taking..."
A tapping, something rapping on the cobblestones perhaps? fills the break before the voice continues.
"Whose sighs and tears my steps delayed, I thought her heart was breaking..."
The tapping again, marks the time before the next line:
Tap... tap... tap... tap...
"In hurried words her name I bles't, I breathed the vows that bind me...."
Tap... tap... tap... tap...
"And to my heart in anguish pressed..."
The voice holds a gentle vibrato at the first syllable of the last word for a long moment, before falling silent.
"The girl I left... behind me."
A shadow passes in front of the light that comes from the lamps on Dorset, crossing over the party and temporarily darkening the entire alley.
A tall silhouette stands at the entrance to Miller's Court, some seventy feet away. A tall top hat, and a long coat with high collar help are vaguely visible, though the back-lit figure's features are shrouded in darkness.
Richard flinched at the sudden voice, the sound of a cocking revolver softly clicking from within his jacket.
Spotting the silhouette his heart skipped several beats as he froze in terror, expecting another reality warping experience. Instead he simply started to sweat profusely. Seems alcohol numbs the imagination.
His breath caught in his throat, he finally exhaled after the last lines of the song had sounded, his voice half stating, half asking with a whisper.
The Ripper...
Jossem tries to peer inside as Tommy opens the door. All of then turn, however when the signing starts.
"Isn't that...an Irish song? But a off-rendition." He looks over at the tall figure and grips his cane hard.
Roland and Ang head back to Miss Kelly's home when their search proves fruitless. They arrive in time to hear the eerie song and see the silhouette at the end of the lane. Trying to shed the dread clutching at his heart, Roland hears Richards whispered question, and turns with brisk curiosity, "What makes you suggest such a thing? , I'd wager he's the diseased fellow from earlier. The hat and collar match, if the bearing doesn't. Must have given the police the slip."
Not waiting for an answer he turns back to the dark stranger, taking a step his direction and calls out in a loud voice, hoping the volume will mask the roiling uncertainty he's feeling, "Ho! You there! Can we help you with something?" Turning to look at those gathered, "We still need to check on Miss Kelly. Father, Tommy, would you mind? If the rest of you would kindly remain so that fellow won't interfere."
Ang eyes the new fellow closely, trying to see if this might not be the fellow he spied earlier on their way here.
Perception:
For a moment, Tommy glares at Roland, but it's not the detective that has him wound so tight he's near to bursting. It's the bloody ripper. They'd already had one false alarm tonight, and this was just another drunk with a top hat. Or so he told himself. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this figure than they could see (or hear) but he knew Roland was a good man, and Richard, well, he had been once. With the chink and the nobleman, he was fairly sure they could handle themselves. He peered into Mary's room.
Inside the room; only darkness. Thick, clinging darkness, the kind unwilling to give away its secrets.
The voice now speaks, strong, velvet smooth, and accented English:
tap... tap... tap... tap...
"It wasn't there. I looked and looked but it wasn't there."
tap... tap... tap... tap...
"You cannot find it there."
tap... tap... tap... tap...
"She cannot show it to you now."
tap... tap... tap... tap...
The voice turns, adopting the innocence of a curious child:
"...Do you know where it is?"
Pats his pockets, looking for a match, muttering to himself, "Did I truly come all this way without a light?"
"Bloody Hell!" Joassem mutters. "Father, I hope you have a prayer for this. I'll even take a Catholic one right now." His right hand goes to the top of his cane in an odd manner.
Richards heart pounded in his chest, a single large bead of sweat streaking down his forhead, hitting the top of his nose before sliding to the left and continuing down his cheek. What is this? Are you hearing things now?
Drawing his revolver, pointing it in the direction of the silhouette but not quite aiming, he turned to the others crowded around the door, voice shaky.
Please tell me you are hearing this.
He half laughed, his voice frantic now.
Send him to Hell Tommy? Are you sure he didnt crawl from there in the first place?
The singing sets Tommy's hair on end, and he's tempted to go sort out the singer before he does anything else, but when he sees Richard drawing again, for the second time this night, he calls out.
"Steady, Richard," he barks and begins walking towards his friend. It could be that this top-hatted singer is Jack, or it could be that he's just a madman, but it isn't time for more fireworks yet
"I don't mind sending him home, as long as I know he's burning for what he's done," he says, a vague approximation of calm in his tone. "Has anyone got a match?"
Not taking his eyes of the singer down the road, Richard absentmindedly handed Tommy his box of matches. The revolver only tipped slightly towards to ground, the man clearly conflicted on whether to put it away or keep aiming If things get any stranger he going to get all six!
Tommy takes the match and lights it, then moves in to the room.
Someone seems to be reclined on the bed, but it's hard to make out any details. Glancing around, Tommy notices an unlit candle sits on the end table.
tap... tap... tap... tap...
"If you see it, do let me know, friends... I've looked ever so hard for it."
The man steps forward, and it becomes clear that he carries a walking cane, source of the tapping noise.
Seeing the cane is the source of the tapping allows Jossem to breathe a bit easier. "Now see here sir, I think you need to explain yourself to the detective." He steps toward the man, but remains behind both Clive and Ang Xin. "Who are you sir?"
"Mary?" he whispers, though he suspects she is past hearing him. "Are you awake? It's Tommy McIntyre from Frying Pan Alley."
Roland, glad to be backed by a few of his fellows, adds his own questions, "Indeed, who are you sir? This is no public theater and we are about important, private business." He tries to better see the man, peering through the thick fog, and keeping an eye on the tapping cane. Internally, he felt quite proud about his ability to speak without letting his voice quaver.
Richard was content to remain where he was, silently observing the silhouette, whilst taking the occational sideways glance into the appartment. With nothing to keep him occupied, his hand clutching the revolver had started to noticably shake again.
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Seeing Richard is having difficulty, Father Paidraig takes the flame from him and turns to light the candles and shed some illumation on the room. Under his breath he prays as he lights the candles, fearing what he is about to see.
"In nómine Patris et Fílii et Spíritus Sancti..." And he turns towards the bed as the light of the candles spread...
Tommy raises the candle, revealing the results of some unholy act. Blood has soaked the sheets, splattered across the walls, and pooled on the floor. It glistens in the candle light, dark as dark, dark wine.
The gaze of the two men seems resistant to the sIGHT, but both men eventually pull their gaze to the figure on the bed... or what is left of it.
The body lay flat on its back, naked, with her legs splayed wide. But no sign of gender identification remained. Viscera removed, and displayed around the body like a horrific nimbus. Limbs flayed to bone, the abdomen and pelvis completely open, and the throat slashed--perhaps a final mercy, or the start to this monstrous ritual--clear through to the spinal column.
What started as fear now grows sharper fangs. True horror gnaws at the root of the two men's minds, sinking jagged teeth and sending them reeling. Tommy's stomach churns, as if purging the contents would somehow purge the gruesome image from his mind. Paidraig staggers back, shaken to his soul by this bloody ritual
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Turning quickly and leaving the room Father Paidraig is panting as he reaches the street and presses his hands to his eyes, as if they hurt him. Ignoring those around him for a moment, you can here him chanting in latin under his breath. He seems pale and might be sweating as the words become more clear to you, he crosses himself several times...
Sáncte Míchael Archángele, defénde nos in proélio, cóntra nequítiam et insídias diáboli ésto præsídium. Ímperet ílli Déus, súpplices deprecámur: tuque, prínceps milítiæ cæléstis, Sátanam aliósque spíritus malígnos, qui ad perditiónem animárum pervagántur in múndo, divína virtúte, in inférnum detrúde.... Sáncte Míchael Archángele, defénde nos in proélio, cóntra nequítiam et insídias diáboli ésto præsídium. Ímperet ílli Déus, súpplices deprecámur: tuque, prínceps milítiæ cæléstis, Sátanam aliósque spíritus malígnos, qui ad perditiónem animárum pervagántur in múndo, divína virtúte, in inférnum detrúde... Sáncte Míchael Archángele, defénde nos in proélio, cóntra nequítiam et insídias diáboli ....[b]
Eventually he stops praying and looks vacantly at the people around him saying, [b]Surely no man did that... demon or beast, but no man... He then crosses himself again and seems listless as if he were under the effects of shock.
Ang is very nervous as the figure at the end of the alley has not answered or moved. What is this being? Is it Jack? No...it couldn't be..could it?
When Father Paidraig stumbles out of the apartment, pale and shaking, Ang is even more worried.
"What did you see Father? What is in there? Where is the other gentleman that entered with you? Father?? Father!!"
Richard flinched at the shocked gasps and nausiated coughing coming from within the appartment Youve heard men make those sounds before, then almost jumped back as the father came through the door. His latin chanting did nothing to ease Richards nerves, if anything it made everything seem even eerier.
What is it! You know damn well what it is. Whats going on?
The revolver hand, shaking more than ever, rose to point at the man down the street.
Roland turns, as shocked as the others at the Fathers state and incomprehensible mutterings, That's more terrifying than the damned tapping! he thinks. Not turning his back to the stranger he moves to Father Paidraig, bending slightly, "Father? Father Paidraig! What is it man, you're scaring the daylights out of us!" He glances once more at the stranger then looks to Ang and Jossem, "Stay with him, and Richard," -Thank God someone has a gun.- "be a good chap and keep that man in your sights, please." He turns to look into the room and to find Tommy.
Tommy's stomach twists into knots as he stares at what lays in the bed, tasting bile and clenching his teeth to hold back the contents of his stomach. A chill that has nothing to do with the weather fills him, and he feels sweat beading up on his skin, though it is not warm.
Father Paidraig leaves, praying in Latin, and Tommy turns and staggers behind, clutching the candle in one hand and his stick in the other. Once the door is between him and the thing that lay in the bed, he blows out the candle and leans against the wall, breathing deeply, trying to stop himself from being sick on the street.
"Man or demon," he says, his voice as shaky as Richard's. "Who can tell the difference? Whatever did that was both."
"Catch him." He waves weakly towards the figure at the end of the alley. Whether that figure is the Ripper or not, it seems to Tommy in his sickened state too strange a coincidence that it was here tonight, spouting those strange words.
Seeing Tommy emerge from the doorway stops Roland in his tracks, and he decides he's better off not knowing what affected them so, at least for the moment. Tommy's charge to catch the man gives Roland some needed purpose, helping to chase away the fear that'd been riding his nerves like spiders on a web for the last few minutes. He nods once in affirmation of Tommy's words, turns and stalks towards the man in the fog, feigning a bravado he did not feel, "You there! You're coming with us to answer some questions!"
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"The Ripper, it must be... don't go in there... it is inhuman... diabolical... demonic... We must summon the authorities, but I need time to regain my composure."
The priest has a white-knuckled grip on his Rosary, but seems to be calming down.
"He gutted her, but not like an animal would do. Like a... like a butcher in a starving villiage, careful and deliberate, every organ with a purpose. Or like a heathen with a vial, dark ritual... But he also mutilated her, you can barely tell she was a woman."
Ang reacts when Tommy calls to "Catch Him". He swiftly moves down to the end of the alleyway and confronts the person standing there.
"You will come with us." he calls out to the shadowy figure.
Richards breathing had become raspy and ragged again, short sharp inhalations followed by wheezing exhalation. The Fathers words echoed through his head.
Gutted...Butchered...Mutilated. Its all so familiar isnt it? All too easy to imagine what is in there, what it looks like. And just like back then, you are going to turn away, ignore the injustice, ignore the pleas for help. You are going to run from your responsibility like you did then, like you always do. You are a coward Richard, A COWARD!
NO!!!
Setting off into a full sprint, he charged towards the figure, gun pointed in front of him, trigger a hairs with from going off.
Freeze!
Jossem stares at Father Paidraig and Tommy as they come out of the building? What could be so horrible? What had he gotten himself into? He tries to help the priest steady himself when everyone begins shouting for the man in the alley.
"Is it truly him? The Ripper?" Joss takes a step forward and then, he breaks out into a run after Richard.
Disappointment, then from the figure.
"They found it, not, methinks. Alas."
When Ang and Richard lurch forward, the man turns and runs, heading left on Dorset. By the time Ang and Richard reach the junction, the figure is nearly at the corner of Dorset and Shepherd. He turns to look, and waves at his pursuers, before racing south on Shepherd street, the steady sound of footsteps on cobblestones ringing out into the night.
Tommy shakes his head, too sick to think. He turns to look down the alley towards the strange man in the top hat. Could it be the Ripper? Could these men actually catch him? Would he, Tommy McIntyre, the last one of Ma McIntyre's boys, slouch against this wall and watch while they took him?
No.
He pushed off the wall and staggered down the alley, using his walking stick perhaps for the first time as a walking stick. The riot in his belly still in full swing, his knees were weak and he could barely manage a hurried shuffle. But if it was Jack, by all the saints, he'd make sure the bastard never forgot the name Tommy McIntyre.
Reaching the end of the street, Richard realized this man or whatever it was, was probably too fast to be caught.
Stop!
For the second time that evening, a shot echoed across the rooftops.
But sweat, tears and range spoiled his aim, the shot whistling past the figure by a wide margin. Come on Richard, you ran plenty fast when running away, but some effort into it!
He continued the chase.
Ang drops into a serious run after the man, the roar of a pistol still ringing in his ears.
Am I running from the crazy Englishman, or towards one!! Xin Ang what have you got yourself into!!
Jossem runs up and grabs Richard by the arm after he fires the shot. "Dick, dammit man! You can't just be firing that thing off at everything. You're going to hurt someone."