It was raining, which was good for washing away blood and all traces of her handiwork. But it made finding a victim much more difficult.

Emelie stood in the shadows, her hair beneath a top hat and her face hidden behind the up-turned collar of the men's coat she wore. It was late, and there weren't many people walking the streets due to the inclement weather. Even the drunks had taken shelter. Part of her was relieved at the prospect of not finding a victim tonight. However, she knew Percy's time was running out. She needed to find a heart.

She wrapped her arms around her chest and let out a shaky sigh. As she rubbed her arms for warmth, she heard footsteps on the cobblestone road. Her heart sunk when her gaze settled on her potential victim. A prostitute. She hated killing prostitutes. It felt like betraying a secret understanding she had with them. But this woman was the first person she had seen in hours. It had to be her.

Taking a deep breath, Emelie stepped out from her hiding place and followed the woman from a safe distance. Her steps were light, especially compared to the clunky gait of the prostitute. Emelie noticed that she walked with a limp. Perhaps a birth defect. Or an injury from a client.

They passed beneath the gas lamps, and Emelie shied away from the light. The prostitute stopped. Emelie flattened herself against the brick wall of a nearby building. She watched as the woman hiked up her skirt and adjusted her stockings before giving a hacking cough and continuing on. Swallowing hard, Emelie recommenced her pursuit.

Her eyes darted to every alley they walked by, but she hadn't gathered enough nerve to act. She knew she had to do it soon, though, before the woman disappeared into one of the buildings to escape the relentless downpour. With a reluctant determination, Emelie picked up her pace. Grabbing the prostitute around the middle, she rushed her into a dark alleyway. Before the woman could utter a word, Emelie stuffed a rag into her mouth and threw her to the ground. The woman's head hit the brick wall with a loud crack, and she released a groan.

Quickly, Emelie pulled out a knife and knelt before her victim, ripping her dress open. The rain was seeping through the knees of her stockings, and the added chill sent a tremor through her body. She concentrated, trying to steady her hands. As she leaned in to make her first cut, she mistakenly allowed her eyes to stray to the woman's face. There were dark shadows under her eyes, and her lips were chapped beneath her smudged lipstick. Then her eyelids fluttered, and Emelie saw her own face reflected in the woman's warm, brown eyes. Eyes filled with confusion. Pain. Fear. Betrayal.

Emelie's chest tightened. How could she kill this woman? This prostitute who had likely gone through trials she was all too familiar with?

But she had already come too far.

Teeth clenched, Emelie plunged her knife just below the woman's shoulder and ran it down to her chest. The woman's scream was muffled by the rag, but it still echoed in Emelie's ears. Ignoring the guilt nagging at her conscience, she ran a matching gash from the woman's other shoulder and then proceeded down her belly. Tears were streaming down the prostitute's face, and Emelie wanted to apologize to her. But if anyone happened upon the scene and heard her voice, it would only give them a clue as to who the Organ Harvester was.

Once Emelie had peeled back the skin, she proceeded to cut into the breastbone and break some of the ribs. The woman's weeping had ceased, and Emelie guessed she had passed out from the pain. Just as well. Her screams and sobs were only a distraction. Finally, Emelie had removed enough bone to see the heart. It was still beating, quickly and in a panic. She wanted to take it out and be done with this atrocious crime, but she knew she had more work to do. Forcing down her nausea, she pulled out other organs: stomach, liver, pieces of the intestine. She stuffed these into a sack before carefully cutting out the heart and placing it in a separate bag.

With one final look at her victim, Emelie clutched the bag holding the precious organ and prayed that this would be the last time.