I will always remember my first.

My cap rested low over my eyes. I stared at the stone floor, following the footsteps of the man in front of me. Darkness moved over the city like a blanket over a crying baby, smothering the sounds of the day and welcoming the quiet of the night. The lamplighters were out. They created dark shadows over the emptying streets; they offered hiding places to the more unsavoury characters out for the night.

I followed the man through the streets, keeping myself to the moving shadows of the night. Market stalls closed down around us as the city fell into its slumber. He hastened, as though scared of what might hide nearby. He didn't know that the thing he feared the most had been walking behind him for several streets.

The man glanced behind him, and I stopped, hugging my body close to the nearest wall. I blended into the shadows as best I could, kicking the scuffed toe of my boot along the stone ground. He continued to walk, his pace slower. No one gave me a second glance, not even those who looked for me.

Despite his slowed pace, I clung to the shadows for a little while longer. I watched and waited until he had peeled out of sight before I followed once more. My footsteps were silent on the stones, my breathing almost non-existent.

This man's route was one I had studied. He may not have known who I was, but I certainly knew who he was.

Mr Ian Alden, fifty. He had lived in London his entire life. His father had owned one of the many cloth factories throughout the city. When he died, Mr Alden had taken it over, but neither of them had been amiable men. Their workers slaved away for up to twelve hours a day for mere pennies, money that wouldn't even buy them a loaf of bread to feed their starving children.

Those who were injured whilst working for them were dismissed and thrown onto the streets without a hint of compensation for the work and money lost. They were thrown away as if they meant nothing, were worth nothing. A man such as that didn't deserve the air he breathed.

I followed him round a corner and watched him disappear down a darkened alleyway. His first mistake. Unnoticed, I crept down the streets, clinging to the shadows as the night descended on us. Fewer people walked the streets, fewer people saw me step into the alleyway behind him. Even fewer would see me leave.

My feet made no sound as I shuffled into the alleyway, reaching into the waistband of my trousers. The summer air was warm, and the smell of sweat hung in the air. I remember a feeling of calm washing over me, a voice whispering in my ear to tell me that I was doing the right thing. This was what needed to be done.

The man breathed heavily; the sound echoing off the brick walls that encased us. He had trapped himself. I crept forward, raising the weapon high above my head. My heart thumped in my chest. I could hear the sound echoing through the alleyway and I knew he could, too.

He stopped.

Silence encased us. It suffocated us.

He turned. The darkness had not fallen completely. The sun still hung low enough to create a slither of light, just enough for him to see me standing there with the weapon raised. His eyes widened, but he had noticed me far too late.

I brought the hammer down; the end connecting with his forehead.

The man dropped to the ground like a stone.

I merged back into the shadows, slipping into the darkness as though it were a comforting blanket. My work was done. For now.

~~~

First Published - February 2nd, 2023