He survived.

That rat had the audacity to survive my hand.

No one survived me, no one should have survived me, and yet he did. That waste of space, a disgrace to humankind, defied me.

How dare he.

When I heard the news that he had lived and might yet be able to tell the officers who he had seen, I put my fist into the closest wall, concrete dust showering the floor. My knuckles were red and bleeding. The red marks quickly turned dark purple; a reminder of my friendship with the darkness.

Mr Hutchinson had seen me. He had looked me in the eyes as I attacked him. I prayed that the darkness was on my side, that it had been too dark for him to be able to see me properly. Or, better yet, the man died as a result of his injuries before he could say a word. That was the only appropriate outcome.

I had to push Mr Hutchinson's survival to the back of my mind and focus on the task at hand. There were still plenty of men who needed my attention. I just had to be a little more careful about how I operated. I wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

I would not let another person escape my grasp like that. They all had to die.

My next target was an older man, someone who had lived long enough to see the pain and suffering caused by those with money in their pocket. He didn't care, though. He just wanted to see his profits rise and damn anyone who stood in his way.

Mr Oliver Thorn. His name applied directly to his personality, and I couldn't help but wonder if he decided to base his entire life around his surname. He was a prickly sort of person, someone who was not afraid to cause injury to protect what was his. No one needed him, not really.

I knew he had been teaching his children the art of running a factory, showing them just how he operated one and the sort of brutality he used in order to get his point across. His children needed to learn that treating people like scum will get you nowhere. It will just get you killed.

This one had to go right. I couldn't risk another mis-step, another survivor.

There were far more problems to deal with this time than there had been when I had attacked Mr Alden all those months ago. More officers stalked the streets, fewer factory owners were willing to walk the streets without a companion or they took a carriage to avoid me. They tried their hardest to not come into contact with me. Mr Thorn was not one of those men.

He did not see anything wrong with his actions. He saw no issue with the way he would beat the people in his employment and did not think he would become one of my victims.

He was wrong.

They usually are.

I stayed in the shadows as best I could, taking the smaller alleyways that most people missed. Mr Thorn took the same route home every day, and I knew where I had to wait for him if I were to succeed. This time I couldn't make a mistake. I had to be swift, accurate, and stealthy.

No mistakes.

No mercy.

I could hear Mr Thorn before I saw him. He whistled to himself, much like Mr Richards. It amazed me just how similar these men were, and how arrogant they seemed despite their depleting numbers. Their arrogance was their united weakness.

Mr Thorn rounded the corner, unaware of the dangers that lurked nearby. I allowed him to walk ahead of me, taking a few steps away from the entrance to the alleyway before I emerged, hammer raised.

Before he could take another step, I slammed the hammer into his skull once.

He dropped to the floor.

I hit him once more to be safe.

Mr Thorn lay on the floor, blood trickling down his neck and pooling on the surrounding ground, creating something similar to a halo. Except he was no angel. He was a devil among men.

A devil who had met his end once and for all.

~~~

First Published - February 12th, 2023