⏳ 1888

Night had descended. Biting winds whipped around my face. Light snow fell from a dark sky, powdery ice adorning the footpaths. A train wailed in the distance from the other side of the city. Flames in the lamp posts flickered uneasily. Society cowered away.

The Autumn of Terror tormented a frightened city for months now. London was plunged into shadow and fear. A killer stalked the darkness. The brothels of Whitechapel were warm and safe by comparison to its streets, where prostitutes were being mutilated and left on grotesque display for all to see. The people were terrified for who was going to be next.

"Stop! Remain where you are this instant! This is the police!"

I watched as a coated man in a top hat raced into alleyway, police in navy blue hot on his tail, blowing their whistles.

They weren't going to catch him. He'd just committed his third murder, and they still hadn't managed to throw him in their cells. Either it was shoddy police work or the killer was as sly as a fox. I knew the answer, of course, but the former was a big contributor to the problem.

"No wonder they never caught him," I mumbled. "They couldn't catch a killer if it was right under their noses."

Eilian chuckled next to me. "Well, in this case it seems like Jack was."

I glanced at him. "Should we give them a hand? We'll be doing Freddie a favour."

Eilian's blue eyes flicked to another alleyway where more whistles pierced the night's silence. And then he shrugged. "Yeah, why not." As I went to leave, he grasped my arm. "Be careful."

I pecked him on the lips and grinned. "When am I not?"

And with that, I headed to the other end of the rooftop and dived off into a portal.

I tucked and rolled when I touched ground, landing with a thud on my boots, the cobblestones cold and wet to the touch. I breathed warmth into my gloved hands. I peeked around the corner of the alley I'd landed in. The square was quiet. Only the cold song sung by the wind echoed.

I rubbed my hands and walked off.

I stalked the back streets. The homeless gathered around barrels of licking flames, desperate to get warm. I noticed an old man huddling on a cornered doorstep clinging to a newspaper as a blanket. Children played in the mud, squealing excitedly like little piglets, their mothers scavenging for food. The boom of the Industrial Revolution had died decades ago, and people were still poverty stricken, desperate for someplace warm to sleep and something to eat that wasn't rotten.

I got a niggling feeling scratching at the back of my brain. The hairs on my arms stood up, goosebumps rising to the surface. I realised then that the police whistles had ceased. Seemed to me that the pursued had escaped. But I knew he was lurking in the shadows nearby, close to me. He was always in shadows, in the darkness, one step ahead of me but following behind, biding his time to catch me off guard. For as long as I'd been chasing him since the first murder of three, he'd been following my every move as well. We were moving in circles, continually chasing after each other. The loop had been going on for too long. My time to hunt him was still on. But his, really, had just begun.

"I know you're there, Jack," I called. "The Master of Terror is afraid to show himself, is he?"

I heard a deep growl from the shadows behind me, followed by the storming of weathered boots on cobblestones. It was my intention to catch him. Him being on my tail was doing me a favour, and I wasn't going to make the chase easy.

I charged into the abyssal alleyways of Whitechapel, light as a feather and as quick as a snake bite. I heard him thundering after me. I tried to lose him in the labyrinth of sharp turns and dead ends. My heart thumped hard in my chest, threatening to escape. My breathing was painful as I pushed on. My arms pumped back and forth, throwing me forward. His boot-thuds began to echo away, but I didn't slow. The next turn I took so fast that I dashed across the opposite wall, pushing off and leaping into another alleyway.

I burst into a local cemetery. Fog floated on the deathly atmosphere, ominous and crisp.

I hid behind the mausoleum to catch my breath. When I poked my head out, there stood Jack at the entrance, beneath the arch. He looked right at me as he tipped his head to the side.

I waited to see what his next move was going to be. Was he going to take the bait? Was he going to follow? Or was he going to turn away?

And then the police whistles pierced the night. Jack whipped around suddenly to look behind him before streaking through the cemetery and plunged into the alleyway across the way. I wasn't going to let him get away, not after months of hunting him myself. I raced after him before the coppers made it to the cemetery.

I sprinted through the damp and dimly lit alleyways, my eyes pinned to his coat tails to keep him in sight. I couldn't lose him. Not now.

I burst out of the alleyway into one of the main streets of Whitechapel. Horse-drawn carriages bustled by. Crowds of men sauntered past. Women strutted past with the purses clutched close. Drunkards stumbled along towards home. Coppers on patrol wandered along. And Jack was gone.

My eyes quickly flicked around my surroundings, looking for someone out of place. But there was no one. The surroundings were all too normal. Jack was gone, a shadow in the night.

I rested my hands on my hips in exhausted frustration as the boots of the coppers behind me arrived. Eilian stepped in line next to me.

"I lost him," I said.

Eilian sighed. "Fantastic."

The coppers rushed into the street, searching for the man they were pursuing. Sergeant Edmund Reid grumbled in agitation as he stepped in on my other side. "I don't know why Abberline thinks you two are valuable to H Division. You're both as useless as the local whor–"

"Watch your mouth, Reid," Eilian growled. "If it weren't for Ada and I, the leads on your Ripper case would've gone cold months ago."

"And look what result you've gotten us. Perhaps it is you who should watch your mouth."

"Shouldn't you join your coppers, Reid?" I added, turning to him. "They could really use your help. Edward and I will go examine the body."

Reid mumbled something under his breathe before joining his men on the street.

Eilian rubbed the back of his neck. "We better go see Abberline. And prepare for some choice words."

❈Author's Note: Hey, there! It's been a while since we've taken a step back in time. What do you think about a little bit more of Eilian? Let me know beloooow! :D

If you liked this chapter, please consider giving it a quick vote! Thanks for reading!