TIME TRAVELLER AU PART 15
Part 14 is here. Feel free to check out the rest of the TTAU masterlist here. My complete MASTERLIST is here.
His eyes open to the sound of commotion.
“It’s him. It’s him! He’s back!”
He sees the white ceiling first, and once they’ve adjusted to the light, his eyes slowly flick from one wall to the next, until finally landing on the nurses talking in hushed tones.
“He’s back… but what has he returned to? His grandmother is gone, his uncle is dead and his wife? Missing. He’s returned to an empty home.”
“You say missing, I say she ran off with someone else. She probably knew that Mr FitzGeorge would’ve caught her and thrown her in an asylum the moment he returned and caught her with all those men!”
“Beth, I think they were just her employees or friends. She couldn’t be having an affair with all of them.”
“Oh you don’t know deviant women like her; they’d stoop to any level of depravity if it got them what they wanted.” Beth huffed. “And what can you say about her character if she’s seen hanging around at the wretched club! Thank heavens it burned down before corrupting all of London!”
Silas closed his eyes before letting out a loud exhale, catching their attention as they gasp and rush to him.
“M-Mr FitzGeorge! You’re awake!” The other nurse said. “I’ll get the doctor!” She ran out of the room, leaving Beth with him, who was fretting over him, hands finding ways to be useful as they offered him water, then went to adjust his pillows, then his blanket.
Silas ignored her. Perhaps she was trying to cover up for the fact that she’d been caught badmouthing his wife.
The doctor came in with the nurse, along with two police officers. After the initial check up was done, the officers began their questioning.
“Where is your wife, Mr FitzGeorge?” Flashbacks from the night appeared before his eyes.
I was buried alive in a coffin.
You slapped him across the face, making him snap out of it. “SILAS!! This is not your fucking grave! GET THE FUCK UP!”
You pulled him out of the grave.
He felt a throbbing ache in his back.
He was struck by a metal rod, making him fall. “Silas!” You dove towards him and shoved the man away from him, his uncle William.
“No!” You shielded Silas with your arms as he struck again, hitting you. “Stop! You’ll kill him!” You jumped over Silas to shield him as his uncle began raining down strike after strike, not stopping until you screamed in pain.
You blacked out and a figure came up behind his uncle, grabbed him by the neck, choked him and then slashed his throat.
He took in a sharp inhale as he recalled the tall figure turning to him, knelt down down and picked you up.
“If you don’t sacrifice for what you want,
What you want becomes the sacrifice.”
He looked back at Silas.
“You’ll never see her again.”
“The Ripper.” Silas whispered. “The Ripper has taken her.”
The officers shared an alarmed look, whispering something to each other before turning back to him.
“Lets start from the beginning. Where were you for the past 4 months?”
Silas took a deep breath as he began.
It started the day when Y/n had sent over the divorce papers. He remembers standing by the window of his study and seeing a figure out in the snow-covered backyard, near the trees. He went to investigate, taking the papers with him but when he reached there, he found a snowman dressed in a coat and hat, clearly disguised as a man to draw him out and the next he knew was being struck on the head and blacking out.
When he woke up, he found himself in a cell, dimly lit by a torch outside the bars. The walls were made of thick concrete, and there were no windows.
For days, he didn’t have any human contact. Food would be thrown into his cell, often a stale piece of bread. The person who would do this would be wearing a robe with a hood that covered his face and Silas made no attempts to talk to him. He wasn’t about to give into their satisfaction of initiating negotiations. Aristocratic ego.
Finally, after who knows how long, a masked figure came. He was wearing a golden ring that glimmered in the dim light. The mask was black with golden patterns on it, and the man was well-dressed in a three-piece suit, paired with a top hat. It was all well-tailored enough to let Silas know that the man didn’t dress cheaply.
As the man walked into his cell, his hands folded behind his back, Silas didn’t need a introduction to know that London’s most notorious killer stood only a few feet away from him.
Keeping calm, almost to the point of looking unamused, Silas spoke first. “Is this your plan? To keep me in solitary confinement to drive me insane? To kill me? To get my money?”
Jack the Ripper tilts his head a little, and speaks for the first time.
“What is your worth?”
“Ah, right to it.” Silas chuckles, standing up, the chain around his ankle clinking. “I suppose… 50 thousand quid, would be sufficient?” When the killer didn’t say a word, Silas sighed. “A million pounds, then?” JTR still didn’t respond, and so Silas kept increasing the ransom money.
“100 million pounds!” Suddenly, before Silas could react, the Ripper pushed him against the wall, had pulled out a knife and held it against his cheek. “Do you think a 100 million pounds could stop me from killing you?” Silas narrowed his eyes. “If you want a single pound of my money, you wouldn’t dare to hurt-” He sliced his cheek slowly, drawing out blood as Silas gritted his teeth. “You’re not worth a single penny.”
Slighted, a fire burned in Silas’s eyes. “If you wanted to hurt me, you would’ve done it long ago. So why don’t you stop playing your pathetic intimidation tactics and get to what you want.” JTR stares at him for a while before letting him go, turning around as he walked away from him.
Silas thought he was going to leave him to rot in the cell again when the Ripper turned around and pulled black leather gloves from his coat, putting them on, he made his way back to Silas and began beating him black and blue. Due to being chained, Silas couldn’t defend himself all too well, but he doubts he would’ve been able to even if they weren’t there.
Finally, the Ripper only stopped when Silas was lying on the ground about to pass out. Thats when the Ripper knelt down and spoke to him.
“I am going to take everything away from you. I will strip every delusion you have about yourself. By the time I’m finished, you will know exactly what you are worth- down to the last, excruciating detail.” He pulled off his now bloody gloves. “Whether by revelation or by ruin, you will learn. The choice I’m afraid, is no longer yours.”
For the next few months, the Ripper found different ways of torturing Silas, starting from physical methods that ranged from getting beaten up regularly, to being forced to lie on ice blocks for hours on end, and the worst was the waterboarding. He absolutely loathed that one.
But he remained resilient, he didn’t break down, simply suffering in silence. He knows very well that its highly likely he’ll be killed by the Ripper, but he wont give him the satisfaction of breaking down.
That is, until his grandmother died.
The Ripper had come to his cell and informed him of Sarah’s passing and he didn’t really believe it until he showed him the newspapers. Still, he was doubtful, as he continued to inspect the paper’s authenticity. “She was a lovely woman, did her very best raising you but you… such a disappointment.” The Ripper tutted. “I met her.” Silas stopped flipping through the papers for a moment, his eyes catching sight of the pattern on his gold ring- a snake eating its own tail.
“You’re lying.” He muttered. Yes, this is all a lie. Another tactic to get him to break.
“I visited her in Edinburgh, at the cottage she and her late husband used to meet at. We had a pleasent conversation.” Silas felt his blood run cold. That cottage, very few people knew of its existence, and he was sure that he was the only one to know of its history.
“You’re lying-” But the Ripper cut off his meek denial. “We talked about you, about Daisy and how you let your uncles send her away to the asylum, about the night your mother died. Your grandmother always blamed herself for not being able to help you heal from that night. But we both know that you only have yourself to blame.” Silas’s lips parted in shock. How did he know-?
“You thought no one knew that you were the one hiding in that closet and how you watched your mother be murdered while your coward self watched through the slit of the cupboard. Have you lied to yourself that you weren’t the very reason of her demise?”
“I- I was a child-” “You led the killer to her. Your mother had warned you many times to stay in your room at night, but you had to go to the library, didn’t you? You just had to take another book to read? And when you heard footsteps, you ran towards the nearest bedroom, hiding in the closet, not realising that you’d mistaken the killer’s footsteps for your mother’s. But your mother knew that those heavy footsteps were not yours, were not familiar and she came to get you, to protect you. But she was murdered instead. All because of you.”
All these years, all this time that Silas spent running away from the truth, trying to bury the traumatic memories from that night, had suddenly been resurfaced. They were slapped in his face, by none other than London’s ruthless killer.
Silas stood up, the paper dropping from his hands. In that moment, he realised that everything the Ripper knew about him, about the details of his family would only be possible if- if he was the one who’d killed them all.
Blinded with rage, Silas lunged at the man, barely landing a jab before he was struck down again and beaten to unconsciousness.
When he woke up, he was lying on the ground as Ripper cleaned his bloody hands.
“It was a wonderful funeral. Sarah would’ve been proud.” The Ripper stated. Silas stared at him, his chest hurting so much, he was sure he’d broken a few ribs. The killer only folded his arms across his chest. “You should be grateful. I attended it on your behalf. Your wife did an amazing job arranging everything on such a short notice.”
Wife.
Y/n.
Silas hadn’t realised it until now that he’d completely forgotten about you. You had not once crossed his mind since he his time in captivity.
“Will you finally kill me, now that you’ve taken away everyone I cared about?” Silas asked through jagged breaths. The Ripper looked over his shoulder. “Not everyone.”
Once he was left alone, Silas sat up and grabbed the paper again, going over the details.
Y/n. He supposed that he always thought you’d have left him and run off with someone, perhaps with Henry. Maybe now that the Ripper has him, you’d probably have taken his money and left London.
Not everyone. Those words echoed in the back of his mind.
The Ripper wasn’t done with him though. Far from it, really. Silas thought he’d already been through the worst of his abuse, but he was in a whole new world of pain when the psychological torture began.
It started with the classic “Betrayal Manipulation”, where Silas would be informed for hours on end, everyday, that he’s been abandoned by everyone, that no one is looking for him, no one cares about him. Silas didn’t have a hard time believing it, seeing as his grandmother was perhaps the last person who would’ve truly looked for him, his cousins probably would’ve sent a search party if they weren’t under his uncles influence, who he already knew couldn’t care less about him. He didn’t have any real friends, and perhaps Cadbury might’ve been one to alert the authorities of his absence, but then again, what chance did a butler stand against the Ripper?
Were you looking for him? He doesn’t think so. Silas doubts you even knew he went missing. You were probably out of London the day you sent the divorce papers via your friend.
Would you have looked for him, if you knew he’d gone missing? Even after that fallout with him? After he screamed all those awful things at you, would you have still put your bruised pride aside to find him?
He really doesn’t know the answer… after all, how much did he really know you? You did call it a sham marriage, but then again… you weren’t soulless like most people in his life.
Once the Ripper was tired of telling how no one will come for him, he would have Silas be taken to a cold cellar by his minions (robed and masked), where he would be tied down to a chair with a bucket of water placed over his head. He would be blindfolded, and they’d leave him there as water dripped out of the bucket onto his scalp, one drop at a time, at a slow pace he couldn’t predict. He remembers reading about it-“Chinese Water Torture.”
You would think that this was better than waterboarding, but it wasn’t. The pattern of the drops was irregular, and the cold sensation is jarring, which caused him anxiety as he tried to anticipate the next drip. It was mentally painful, instilling fear and causing mental deterioration.
Had the pattern been regular, he could’ve used the periodicity to meditate. But the ominous dread of not being able to predict the next drip, it was going to drive him into insanity. Silas remembers actually flinching when the water drops hit his head, and even today, he could pinpoint the exact spot on his scalp where the droplets hit. If he didn’t know better, he would’ve assumed that there was depression on his scalp at that site.
But the worst was still yet to come. The Ripper could see that Silas was falling to pieces, he was near his breaking point. And thats when it was time for his final tactic- “the Silent Companion”, with the Ripper’s own sick twist. You see, in method, dummy boards, also sometimes called “silent companions", are life-size flat wooden figures that were a popular room decoration in the 17th century. Painted and cut to resemble soldiers, children, loved ones, and were put in places that they’d be usually found in. A sweet way to remember them by.
But the Ripper decided to use it a way to shatter Silas.
Silas would wake up to the sound of screams coming from a cell at the end of the hallway. It was a woman screaming, begging, pleading for mercy. It would go on for days until she was put into a burlap sack and then thrown into Silas’s cell. The woman’s screams now were muffled, clearly gagged, and she would be thrashing in her sack until the robed men began to beat her into submission or unconsciousness. Silas couldn’t help her even if he wanted to, he had chains holding him down and he was far too emotionally drained to care.
But then the Ripper would come, folding his arms over his chest. “It seems like everyone has to pay on your behalf.” Silas was confused, but he still didn’t look up from the ground. The Ripper continued, not caring about his lack of response. “Everyone who ever cared about your worthless self has had to suffer. Every woman who ever gave a crap for you had to die. Your mother, your sister, your grandmother, your…” He trailed off, and Silas’s eyes finally snapped up. Your? His wife? “Y/N! Don’t kill her!”Silas leapt forward, before being yanked back down by his chain. He was on his knees, reaching out for you. “Dont kill her! Stay away!” The Ripper pulled out a knife and as soon as he’d touched the burlap, you began thrashing again. The men grabbed the body, while the Ripper cooed only, gently petting the sack as if calming an animal before it was ready for slaughter. “She shouldn’t have announced to everyone that she was your wife. She shouldn’t have lied about how much you loved her. She shouldn’t have associated herself with you.”
Silas leapt forward again, trying to break through the chains. “Take me then. Leave her. She has no part in this. Kill me!”
The Ripper looked up at him. “Why? Its not because you love her. I know that much. Do you think that if you save her, you can be absolved from the murder of all the other women in your life?” And with that, Ripper stabbed you multiple times until you stopped thrashing, while Silas screamed.
Silas stared at the lifeless form in front of him as the Ripper stood up to leave.
“Y/n is not your salvation. She is your ruining.”
Silas doesn’t know how long he was left alone in that cell with you, gasping for breath, tears he didn’t even know had stained his cheeks, until he mustered up the courage to go near and reach for the bloody burlap sack with a trembling hand, dragging it down your face.
It wasn’t you.
It was some… woman. He didn’t know her.
“She claimed to be your wife. I think it was to get fame, or your money.” Ripper’s voice cut through the room. He was standing outside the cell. “I’ll get to your real wife too. And I’ll dispose of anyone who associates themselves with you too.”
And thats how Silas was broken. Every week, a different woman would be subjected to the same torture and he’d be lead to believe that it was you. And everytime he lifted off the sack, he always thought that his eyes saw your face for a second. He was hallucinating you now.
During one of these live killings, the Ripper even tried to get him to sign the divorce papers. The papers he thought he’d lost the day he was taken. “Sign these, Silas. Sign the divorce and free your wife, hm? Let that be the last good thing you do before you die.” But no matter how much he was beaten, broken, tortured, Silas refused to sign the papers, fearing that if he did, you wont have access to his money or influence and become an easy target for the Ripper.
After months of inhumane torture, Silas had finally broken down. The Ripper walks to the malnourished man chained to the ground, hollowness in his eyes as he didn’t even flinch anymore. Kneeling down to his level, he asks him the first question he did when he was first brought here.
“What is your worth?”
Silas remained silent. The Ripper didn’t think he would answer, perhaps he had dissociated from reality-
“Nothing.”
The Ripper’s body relaxed. He raised a hand to pet Silas’s head.
Silas doesn’t fight it when he gives a glass to drink. He hoped it was poison, but it was only to put him to sleep.
When he wakes up next time, he was lying in a coffin, his body stiff and unable to move. He saw Ripper standing over his head, as someone places the lid over his coffin. He was being buried alive.
“Goodbye, Silas.” The Ripper says, and Silas closes his eyes as a tear slips out, grateful for finally being put out of his misery. As he heard the dirt being thrown over his coffin, memories of his life flashed across his mind.
I’m sorry, mom.
I’m sorry, Daisy.
I’m sorry, grandma.
I’m sorry, Y/n.
No one will come to visit him. No one will know where he is. No one cares. No one.
He is truly worth nothing. No one will come for him. No one-
“Silas!” A distant voice calls out. Is this the afterlife calling out to him?
“SILAS!” He hears that voice again, dirt being shifted and before he knew it, it was pounding against his coffin.
“SILAS!” Next thing he knew, a fist comes through, splintering the wood and oxygen floods inside. As the wooden panels are pulled apart, his vision clears as he sees your crying face.
Y/n? You’re his afterlife?
I’m in hell?
Silas only stares at you in disbelief as you try to drag him out of the coffin.
Why are you- how? Is he really in hel-?
You slap him across the face, making him snap out of it. “SILAS!! This is not your fucking grave! GET THE FUCK UP!”
It’s really you. You didn’t give up on him. You were looking for him.You saved him from being buried alive. You broke his coffin with your bare hands. You saved him from his uncle killing him. You took the beating. And you- you were taken by the Ripper.
You were taken by the Ripper.
This is all his fault.
-
The first few weeks after waking up was spent mostly at his manor recovering while the coppers came to question him again and again. It was during this period that Cadbury, who after crying tears of joy (something which shocked Silas since he hadn’t ever seen him show much emotions), filled him in on everything, specifically you.
How you kept searching for him, how you fought against everyone, how you found out about Daisy, how you stood against his uncles and stopped the from stealing his wealth and from slandering him, how hard you fought to keep his and his family’s reputation intact and how you went to the royal family to have them help you find him, how you were threatened and ambushed many times. And when he summoned Collin, who then informed him how you started your own newspaper company to raise awareness against the Ripper under the guise of finding him, how you singlehandedly strong-armed the monarchy into actually helping by threatening to expose their dirty secrets.
And when you finally had the world aware of Silas being missing, you had to stand alone and face being labelled as the “gold-digger”, fight the accusation of being “hysterical” and he was sure if you didn’t have his money, you would’ve been thrown into an asylum by his own uncles.
You stood against them all- the royal family, his uncles, Henry Blackwood, the public, everyone. All for him.
He stood up from his desk where you had laid out all the leads you had on finding him, walking over to the same window where he stood the last time before he was taken.
Why?
Why did you do this? Were you in love? Was it simply out of duty? As a wife? Or because you didn’t want to look like a suspect?
Was it because of curiosity?
Silas’s hand crumpled into a fist.
It doesnt matter, does it? Even if you had ulterior motives, many would’ve given up long ago the moment they were threatened. And if not then, you could’ve- you should’ve ran away the moment you saw the Ripper. He wouldn’t have blamed you. He’s lost himself to the killer, he wouldn’t have blamed you for leaving at the sight of him.
But you stayed, you fought, you broke your own hands to pull him out of his coffin, shielded him from his uncle.
You. Cared.
And thats enough reason for Silas to find you. He will return the favour. He will not give up on you. You didnt, even when you didn’t know whether he’d left you or gone missing, you looked for him, even when you had every reason not to.
I’ll find you Y/n. I’ll find you and I’ll avenge you, for every attempt on your life, every threat, every accusation, every tear- I’ll make everyone pay.
I wont rest until I find you. I wont let you suffer the same fate as the other FitzGeorge women.
-
True to his word, Silas did start searching for you. He created his own search party, knowing that the detectives and police alone wouldn’t be able to find you, he hired the best private investigators and paid good money to shady men who didn’t have any qualms using unethical ways. Next, he mapped out all the potential suspects that could either be the Ripper, or at least have helped him. His enemies, and anyone who held even the slightest bit of malice towards you, everyone was a suspect. At the top of his list, was the royal family, Henry Blackwood and Lady Scarlet (both of whom had vanished at around the same time of your disappearance).
Silas decided to take down the monarchy first. Not only because of what they did to you, but also because he had been long planning to avenge what they did to him and his grandmother, for treating his family as outcasts.
He went to Westminster Palace, where the British Parliament sat. As the Duke of Westminster, a title specially created for him by the Queen when she thought he would soon be her son-in-law, his connection to it is indirect, primarily through his role as a prominent member of the aristocracy. He didn’t really own the palace.
Until this morning.
Silas sat at the back of the room, quietly watching the dominoes of his plan fall as a fight broke out. The reason?
“The royal family’s long history of mental illness and life-threatening ailments.”
Ah yes, Silas had used the information you had gathered on the royal family tree and used your paper to publish it. Now the whole world knows, and as the parliament begins arguing over the legitimacy and security of the monarchs, he silently watches.
By the time he returns to the London Post, he already knows who is waiting for him in your office.
Prince Albert.
“My king, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Silas asked monotonously, sitting in his chair a bit too casually in front of the king, who was still standing, barely contained rage in his eyes.
“What is the meaning of this, Silas?” Prince Albert grits out as he throws the paper on his desk. “Why are you slandering royalty?”
“Slandering?” Silas asked, blinking at him unamused. “It is not slander if its true.”
“Whatever issues you have with us could’ve been sorted out privately.” The king said. “This is uncalled for.”
Silas snorts and Prince Albert has never felt so insulted before. “This isn’t anything personal. Its just the truth and the public has the right to know who rules their kingdom.” Silas rests his cheek on his palm and stares up at him with an evil glint. “Besides, you’ll know when I make it personal.” At the king’s confusion, Silas pulls out a document from his drawer and pushes it towards him. “This is currently being printed and published. Half of London has already gotten their hands on it, I’m sure by tomorrow, all of Britain will know too.”
Prince Albert’s eyes widened in horror at the headline.
“FUTURE KING OF ENGLAND FOUND IN THE ARMS OF A CROSS-DRESSER AT DEVIANT CLUB!”
His hands crumpled the paper. “This is not true!” “Yelling will get you nowhere, your highness.” Silas cut him off, standing up as he buttoned his coat. “And we both now, you are in no position to make any threats or demands.”
Prince Alberts face turned red with rage. “What are you going to do with this? Make people lose confidence in the monarchy? No one will believe this nonsense! Not me, not the people, and not the Parliament. And don’t try denying you weren’t there today.”
“I am not denying anything.” Silas let out a bored exhale. “As Duke of Westminster, it is my right to be there.”
“Right? You do not own Westminster Palace, Silas! It still belongs to the crown!”
“I dont own the Westminster Palace, your highness.” Silas’s gaze sharpened. “But I do own more than half of the Parliament. As of today, I have the leading party in my pocket, ready to obey my orders and even tear down the monarchy a new one if I say so.”
“SILAS-!” “Keep your voice down. You don’t want to sound hysterical and confirm the rumours about mental illnesses running in the royal family, hm?” Silas didn’t even smirk as he cut the king at his knees in the most brutal manner, only telling him to see where his son, the future heir was currently at.
As the king left in a hurry, the door to the office was suddenly slammed open and Benjamin barged in with Colin trying to pull him back by his shoulder.
“YOU!” Benjamin yelled, yanking his arm out of Colin’s grip. “YOU’RE THE REASON SHE’S GONE!”
Silas kept his calm, merely lifting his chin. “I know. I’m going to find her.”
“She should’ve never gone missing. Its all because of you! You should’ve died! You and your pathetic little self should’ve died! She’s in trouble because of you!” Benjamin accused, barely resisting the urge to not beat him to a pulp. “And to have the nerve to call me here, in her office where you sit! How dare you!?”
Silas only stared at him with a neutral expression, even if his heart was heavy with guilt. He nodded at Colin to leave them alone, and he reluctantly left.
“I called you because I need your help to find Y/n. You can hate me all you want, take a swing at me if it’ll make you feel better, but we both want the same thing.” He watched Benjamin take fast breaths, trying to reel himself in. “You were the last person she was in contact with before she found me. You were fighting some assailants that were after her, and you mentioned them wearing masks?” Silas didn’t wait for him to confirm the information. He already read the police report Benjamin had filed. “More than likely, it was the Ripper’s men after her. Now, if we want to find Y/n soon, you need to tell me the truth, Benjamin.” Silas stood up, pouring two drinks, one for himself and one for Benjamin. “My sources tell me Y/n had been in an apartment that belonged to Lady Scarlet, and that you were seen leaving that place just moments earlier.” He set the crystal glass in front of the barber. “What were you doing there? And what do you know about Lady Scarlet and Henry Blackwood?”
Benjamin stared at him, and Silas could see he was trying to come up with a lie that would explain his presence.
“There’s no need to lie. I just need to find Y/n. Please.” Silas didn’t need to plead. He could easily have this information wrung out of him, but you trusted Benjamin enough to help find him, so he’ll return the courtesy of not resorting to unsavoury means. For now.
The blonde’s shoulders sagged. “I worked for Mr Blackwood. I’d only met him once, but every task he needed me to do would be given to me through Lady Scarlet. She was his right-hand man. He’d been paying me to spy on you. I did it because… because I didn’t trust you with Y/n, and when you two had that rushed wedding, I just knew something was going to go wrong. I just wanted to keep Y/n safe.”
And financial gain too. Silas kept the comment to himself. Benjamin continued. “When Y/n started to investigate the murders of his employees, Mr Blackwood didn’t like that. He told her many times to stop, told her that the Ripper was just a myth, and that its bad for business. He didn’t want her meddling. But when she didn’t stop, Mr Blackwood wanted me to do something about it. He wanted me to keep tabs of her every moment, so that he could stop thwart her plans.”
Silas’s fists clenched under his desks. “What happened at the club that night?”
“I went to the club to confront Henry and tell him I want out, and I want him to stop bothering Y/n too. I didn’t know Y/n was there too. Lady Scarlet found me before I could find him, and she pulled me into Mr Blackwood’s office, telling me to not worry because “Y/n had been dealt with.” And when the fire broke out downstairs, we left the office, but she told me that Y/n was hiding inside, so I went back in and pulled her out of there. Since that night, I haven’t seen Mr Blackwood. Rumour has it, he left town. Or perhaps the Ripper got to him.” Or maybe he is the Ripper. Silas took a sip of his drink as the man continued. “After weeks, I was finally able to track Lady Scarlet down. It was the night you were found. I wanted to know where Henry was. If there was some unfinished business left… she said everything here had been concluded. I think she was planning on leaving soon too. I haven’t heard from her since, and her place is empty too.”
Y/n is missing. Henry and Lady Scarlet left town too. The Ripper targeted Henry’s employees.
If I’m able to find Henry, I might be able to find Y/n too.
Silas grabbed his coat and left the office, making his way to police station.
He needs to have the employees murder cases re-opened. There has to be a reason why the Ripper was targeting them, and Silas has a feeling that its not because they were “prostitutes”.
-
“I’m afraid the cases cannot be re-opened, Silas.” The chief of the department, his friend, informed him as the two sat in his office.
“And why not, Tobias?” Silas took a sip of his tea. “Whats the point of having a copper friend then?”
Tobias chuckled. “I wish I could help you out, but I really cant-” Silas set the cup down and pulled out his cheque book. “How much?”
“Silas-”
“How much, Tobias?”
“Its not about money!” Tobias exclaimed, feeling insulted. Silas’s grey eyes watched him run a hand over his face exasperatedly. “I cant open the case because its already been dealt with it. The murderer has been caught and awaiting trial.”
Silas studied him. “But… but its not the man who did it, hm?” Tobias’s eyes flicked up and he felt Silas see right through him. “I cant prove it but… the man we caught… I think he’s just a fall guy.”
“Henry paid him off, didn’t he?” Tobias jaw ticked, as he gave a stiff nod.
The two men remained quiet for a few moments before Silas spoke again.
“I’d like to examine the victims bodies.” Tobias shook his head, but Silas cut him off. “This isn’t a request, Tobias. We both know I can do this without you as well, but I need to find Y/n before time runs out.”
The police chief begrudgingly gave in to his demands and took Silas along with him to the morgue . “The earlier victims had been buried in the cemetery before the trial, but we still have the last victim here, waiting for the trial to be finished. I think after a few days, he’ll be laid to rest. We’re lucky that London is freezing now, slowing the decomposition of the dead.”
Tobias went to open the storage box that contained the last victim, only to find it empty.
“Where-?” He went to open other boxes, searched the entire room to find the victim, before going to ask the mortician.
“The mortician said that somebody came in with a permit from me saying to release the body, but I didnt- I didn’t sign any such documents! Oh god- someone stole a body from the morgue- someone stole from the police department!” While Tobias spiralled about his job being in trouble, Silas’s suspicions grew. He grabbed Tobias by the shoulders, shaking him. “Where are the other victims buried?!”
Tobias took him to the cemetery where they were laid to rest. “Silas, we need a warrant from the judge-” Just then, Cadbury came running in with a few men with him. The butler handed the warrant to Tobias, while Silas nodded at the men to start digging.
Silas’s suspicions were only confirmed when all the coffins were empty. All 7 graves, all belonging to Henry’s employees, were empty.
Tobias’s shock only grew. “No… how-? Who-?” “Someone’s getting rid of the evidence. But who would-?” Silas’s eyes widened. “We need to get to the the murderer right now.” Tobias looked confused. “The scapegoat? He’s in jail- oh!” He got what Silas was alluding to and the two reached the jail in no time. The guards stood up, not expecting to the chief today. “Sir-” “Where is the man we arrested in Blackwood case?!” “He was expecting bail today but no one came-” “Show me the cell!” Tobias yelled. The guards lead them to the cell, and Tobias let out a sigh of relief at the sight of the man lying under the covers. “Thompson! Wake up!” The guard banged his baton against the bar to rouse him from sleep, but when he didnt, they opened his cell and barged in to pull the covers off, freezing as they found the man with his throat slashed brutally from ear-to-ear.
Someone had killed the suspect today, right in his cell. In a jail. In front of hundreds of witnesses. Yet no one even heard even the slightest struggle. Only one person could be so skilled.
The Ripper.
-
A week later, Prince Albert had passed away. It is said that he had fallen sick, but his sources in the palace tell him that the king had left to see his son in Cambridge, and when he found him in a club with people engaging in all sorts of depravity, well, frankly the scandal was too much for the father to bare. They fought, Albert tried to convince his son to come home and that they’d find a nice girl for him to marry and all of this nonsense will be forgotten, evil be nipped in the bud.
Of course, Prince Edward could care less. As pompous idiots do, when it comes to being told what not to do, they do exactly that. When the king returned to the palace, he’d fallen sick with typhoid and days later, passed away surrounded by his loved ones.
The Queen was particularly affected by his death, so much so that she mourned him by wearing only black for the rest of her life. Deep in depression, she blamed Edward for his death because of the fallout the father-son had, and so the rest of the country mourned with her. Life slowed down, businesses were affected and this distracted everyone from Jack the Ripper, who apparently had also went on a break from his killing spree.
Silas saw the rest of his family, his cousins and his uncle Adolphus at the Prince Albert’s funeral. He’d avoided seeing them since his return, fearing that he just might lose control and kill his uncle for how they treated Daisy and Y/n. He had no doubts in his mind that Adolphus and William planned on killing him for a long while. He’ll deal with them, just not right now.
Silas could only hope so during such trying times as the local authorities failed to do their jobs.
But just because the police and the general public were not working actively on this, doesnt mean he didn’t hire outside help, which in his opinion, were more competent.
“Silas.” His cousins were first to approach him, and he could see how cautious they were being around him, as if he’d explode on them.
He wouldnt. It wasn’t their fault. They’re not smart enough to ever try anything against him.
His uncles, on the other hand, who did pass down the dense genes, were greedy enough to go cross him.
Silas made small talk before Adolphus ushered his sons to leave. “How are you, Silas? I’ve been meaning to talk to you ever since-” “I was almost killed by your brother? Or when you took the first chance you could to steal from me?”
Adolphus’s mouth pulled into a thin line. “Now listen, I didn’t have anything to do with what William-” Silas cut him off with a scoff. “Insulting your own dead brother by lying? Cant say he doesnt deserve it.”
“Silas, I just wanted to come here and tell you that I’m using my contacts for whatever information we could get to find Y/n.” Adolphus tried again, but Silas beat him to it again. “And I’m using my contacts to build a case against you and your dim-witted sons for your hand in my kidnapping and the death of my sister.”
His uncle’s mouth fell agape. “Silas, I didn’t do anything to you or Daisy-” “Dont you dare say her name, or I swear to God, I’ll have you and your offspring disappear from the face of the Earth before the sunset and I can promise you, you’ll be begging me for death by the time I’m done with you.” Silas walked away from him. The Ripper was right about many things, he’s come to realise that. He was right about the events of the night his mother was murdered, he was right about how he and Daisy were manipulated by the very people who were supposed to care for them, and he was right about every woman he loved about suffering because of him, and now Y/n-
He stopped. Loved? I love Y/n?
Silas stood in front of the casket to pay his respect. I love Y/n? No. I… I couldnt. I care about her, yes. But- no, no its no love.
It cant be.
Right?
The young aristocrat walked away from the casket, his feelings about you were the only on his mind.
Love Y/n? Certainly not. And I wouldn’t come to that realisation here, at the state funeral for the prince.
No.
-
It’s been over 6 months and Silas hasn’t been able to find you. He has turned London upside down, and he even expanded his search area beyond borders, from street corners to continents, a suspicion that the Ripper may have moved his operations to elsewhere. But he knew that it was unlikely, then again, the Ripper is not a predictable force.
He didn’t have much luck with finding either Henry or Lady Scarlet. As if they’d dropped from the face of the Earth. So, Silas focused his attention to your notes, when you were trying to find him. He has a feeling that the Ripper was in contact with you, he was baiting you.
But why?
If the Ripper wanted to hurt Silas, he could’ve just killed you. But he didn’t, or at least he hopes, he hasn’t. Why drive him to the point of insanity, then let him go and take you?
I admitted defeat. Silas recalled the night when he was in the coffin. I was ready to die. He could’ve killed us both. What sick game is he playing?
Silas traced all your steps over and over again, everywhere you went, he went. His first stop was the one place that he hadn’t visited in years.
Aveline’s asylum.
The staff rambled on to him for all the donations he gave, leading him towards the room his sister was lived in.
His hand didn’t tremble as it reached for the doorknob, but there was an ominous dread in his gut.
As the door swung open, the state of the room was just as he’d seen it the last time he was here. When Daisy had died, he was asked to collect her belongings, but he couldn’t bring himself to return to this place, so he’d paid the hospital to keep her room locked and unused.
Silas wasn’t allowed to visit Daisy very often, but he remembers Adolphus bringing him here when his grandmother had yelled at his uncle to take him there. Sarah knew how much he missed Daisy, even though Silas hadn’t said it aloud.
She always looked weaker than last time when he visited her. But despite how frail she’d turned, how pale her skin became, Daisy always welcomed him with a warm smile and a gentle hug.
Silas sat down on her bed, mind flashing back to the last time he saw her.
“Silas! You’re a sight for sore eyes!” She giggled, wrapping her thin arms around him. “How are you- oh, what did you bring for me?” Silas handed her the books she’d requested after she complained about being bored.
She pulled him and sat him down on her bed, before reaching under her pillow to pull out a handful of candies. As she extended her hand to him, he noticed the bruise on her wrist.
Silas’s eyes flicked to her face, then to her wrist again. But he didn’t say anything.
He never did. Not even when he saw her clothes looking too big on her, different coloured marks on her limbs, the bags under her eyes getting deeper, her hair looking greasier.
He never said anything. After all, why would he embarrass her? “She’s sick in the head.” His uncle had told him, when he asked about her concerning state.
She’s sick in the head. But she was the same as she’d always been.
Silas only took one candy. “You have the rest.” He’d urge her, worried she was skipping meals. Daisy shook her head, handing him a few more before popping one in her mouth. “I had to bribe the doctor for this!” She stood up and walked over to her closet to put away the books he’d brought. As she opened the closet, he saw a red book. “I thought they didn’t have any books for you to read.” Silas nodded towards the red book. She smiled. “I dont. This is my diary.”
Silas’s eyes snapped towards the dusty closet.
Diary.
The day you left his house, the day he lost his temper on you, you had come to his study with that diary. You’d dropped it on the floor before leaving and Silas had put it away in his desk.
But how did you find it? Silas never took anything from the asylum, unless-
Unless you came and took it.
-
Silas had rushed home and opened the red journal as soon as he found it. And his heart only sank further the more he read.
“I dont know why uncles have sent me to this awful? I do not believe I am sick, or if I am, I do not see any hope of ever getting better here. Only worse.”
“What good can ever come out of starving patients? Then again, I think the stale food they give us is only making me more ill.”
“Silas finally came to visit me! Oh, how I missed him. He’s grown up so handsomely. I am sure he will get me out of here one day.”
“The new doctor is the only one who is nice to me. The nurses talk very badly to me, and their hands hold me down so harshly. But the new doctor tended to my injuries with utmost care.”
“The new doctor listens to me when I talk. He smiles sometimes, and chuckles at my jokes too. He doesnt scold me or has me tied down when I tell him I’m not sick.”
“I bribed him with poems. He gave me the candies I’d asked for. I don’t like to be empty-handed when Silas visits me. I can see the concern in his eyes when he looks at me, but he never says anything for my sake. I wonder what I can get him for his birthday. Perhaps the gold ring the doctor wears. It has a snake eating its own tail. Very unique. Silas would like it.”
Silas’s blood ran cold. Golden ring. Snake eating its own tail. It couldn’t be him-
“The doctor hasn’t come to see me in a while. Perhaps he’s busy. I would’ve liked to say goodbye. Uncle Williams came today. He wanted me to sign some documents. But he wouldn’t let me read it so I didn’t. He was furious with me.”
“The nurses have been very unkind to me. They have taken away my meals because “bad girls don’t get fed.” I don’t understand what I’ve done.”
“Anytime I try to ask what I have done to warrant this treatment, they beat me. I demanded to see my family, to see Silas, to see my uncles, but they only locked me in the dark room, bound to my bed.”
“After many weeks, uncle Williams finally returned. I didn’t think I’d see him again after our last falling out. But he returned and apologised for his behaviour. He even brought sweets for me as peace offering. I am having them right now with my tea, they are a little too sweet for my taste. I am getting sleepy though, surprisingly earlier than my bedtime. I suppose the sweets have filled my belly and made me tired.”
That was the last entry in her diary.
Silas’s hands trembled. If only- if only he’d read this earlier. The ring. The Ripper being her doctor. Williams feeding her sweets- he killed Daisy. He killed her.
A shaky breath left him. Silas wished the Earth would split open and drag him, just so he didn’t have to face the harsh truth.
Daisy met the Ripper.
Daisy was murdered.
Daisy was never sick. His uncles put her there. Because?
He suspected why, but he still wants to hear it.
-
Adolphus woke up to a slap to the face. He let out a strangled noise, and he felt the rope on his arms and legs that tied to him to the chair.
“Awake?” A figure appeared from the shadows.
“S-silas? What is the meaning of this?! Untie me this instant!” He struggled against the ropes only to be punched, this time the other cheek.
“Behave, uncle. Tonight, you will die. How painful it will be, that will be decided by you.”
“Silas-!” Another punch, and thats when he heard the sound of a trolley creaking in. Cadbury wheeled the trolley in and Adolphus’s eyes went saucer wide at the contents laying on it. A variety of knives, a saw, a plier, and other tools he couldn’t name but they looked of the medical sort.
“Didnt you tell me that you served as a medic during the war, Cadbury?” The butler smiled, though it didn’t match the sinister glint in his eyes.
“Yes, sir. Army Medical Corps.” Cadbury picked up a scalpel, loading a sharp blade onto it. “I had to amputate many brave men, and I had to do it quickly to save them.” Cadbury then looked at Adolphus and shrugged. “I was pretty skilled back then but its been a few years, I might be a little out of practise.”
Adolphus was drenched in sweat, practically shaking in his chair. “Silas- Silas, listen to me- I didn’t do anything! It was all Williams! It was all him! I didnt- I tried to stop him! I did! I swear on my sons lives!”
“Sons? You’re going to damn your own sons by lying?” Silas sighed. “Oh well, I suppose they were already damned the moment I sent them to the asylum.”
“W-what?” Adolphus throat dried up.
Silas hummed. “Oh, I just sent your boys and Williams’s to the looney bin to rot. Just like you sent Daisy.” He walked up to his uncle and grabbed him by the neck, yanking him forward. “And when they lose their damn mind, when they cant remember their name, when their reduced to a vegetable, I’ll kill them. Just like you killed my sister. And I’ll make sure no one remembers you.”
“S-Silas! I- I didn’t kill Daisy! I- Yes- We- we did sent her to the asylum! Yes- but we didn’t kill her! We only wanted her to sign and give us the fortune your parents had left for you two! We never killed her! It wasn’t us- It was the other man! It has to be!”
“What other man?” The Ripper?
Adolphus hesitated for a second, but the moment Cadbury picked up the saw, he spilled.
“We- we were trying to join a society. Your- William and I, we- we needed to get in this secret society. It was run by a man unknown, but- but the society in essence- it was the inner circle. The most elite. The people who had the first hand at everything. If we got into the society, we’d be invincible. But- but to get in that society we needed a huge buy-in. We didn’t have the money- so- so we tried to get your and Daisy’s inheritance- we- I was going to pay you back! Always, you’re my nephew, Silas!” Silas only shook him harshly again.
“What do you mean by the other man who killed Daisy?”
“I- I dont know- I’ve never seen his face- he’d always wear a mask, or a hood! All I remember is that he’d wear a gold ring, with a snake on it! Only members of the secret society have it. But- but he- I’d seen him one time leaving Daisy’s room at the asylum! He- he must’ve killed her!”
“What was he doing in Daisy’s room?”
“I- I dont know, I never asked.” Of course, you didn’t you spineless cretin. “Thats all I know, SIlas. I swear I didn’t kill her!”
Silas shoved him away and turned around, giving only a nod to Cadbury. Make him talk.
Cadbury gleamed as he picked up an odd shaped instrument. “Back in the war days, I had to peel off a lot of dead skin and replace it with skin grafts, Mr Adolphus. Now, I know I said earlier that I’m out of practise, but I’ve peeled a lot of potatoes! I have a feeling, this wouldn’t be much different!”
Silas left the room as he heard his uncles screams echo. For now, he needs to find the secret society.
-
You wake up with a jolt, gasping for air as you tried to come out of the effects of the dream. As your eyes adjusted to your unfamiliar surroundings, flashbacks from last night came to your mind.
Silas!
I pulled him out of the coffin- he was buried alive! But I pulled him out- he was alive. He was alive! All this time!
As you realised the ache in your back, you remembered his crazy, money-hungry, fat uncle was beating you two with a metal rod! He kept striking again and again until someone pulled him off-
You gasped.
The Ripper!
The Ripper!
Your eyes frantically scanned the room, as if dreading to find him standing in the corner. But the dark Victorian interior showed nothing except for luxury. Dark brown, almost black wood was used around the room and the ceiling was high, with no windows in the room, the entire room was lit with candles and lanterns. You were lying on a canopy bed, with maroon velvet curtains tied to the posts. The walls had a few paintings, some antiques around the room but other than that, you were alone.
And you were brought here by the Ripper.
Right?
It has to be him. Who else? He was the one who hinted where he’d buried Silas- He buried Silas! Oh my god, am I going to be also buried alive? No, then I’d have woken up in the coffin. No, no. He brought me here to kill me like the rest of his victims. Brutally.
You threw the silk covers off you, ignoring the bandages covering your hands and leapt out of bed, stumbling a bit as the pain in your back made you curl up, before you gathered yourself and with a shaky breath, began making your way towards the door. Which wasn’t locked, as you turned the knob.
You peeked a look and when saw no one, you craned your neck out and saw a long corridor on either side, lined with stone blocks from floor to ceiling, a medieval contrast to the gothic room you were creeping out of now.
Using the light from the sconces on the wall, you decided to take the right and walk down the hall. You kept walking, taking one turn after the other with no logic and only hope to not get lost, or worse, be lead straight to the killer.
Your heart thundered against your ribs. Oh God, what if he finds me? What if he tortures me before he kills me-
No. You stopped walking, and rubbed a hand over your chest, pressing in deeply to calm the panic attack that was sure to come if you let your mind go on. No, think positively. He cant- he wont find me. I’ll find my way out of here and I’ll use my time machine and get home-
My Time Machine!
You frantically searched your clothes, panic setting in again.
Where is it- where the fuck is it?!
You recalled having taken it from Lady Scarlet, you had it on you when you were running from those masked men and when you crashed into Benny. You went into the cemetery to find a spot to use it and you were going to when-
Your heart dropped.
The Ripper. He has it. The machine dropped from your hands when you ran to dig Silas out of his grave.
The Ripper has my time machine.
You muffled the whimper that threatened to leave with your hand.
What have I done?
The machine- the time machine is- is in the hands of the notorious psychopath!
Maybe thats why no one has ever been able to catch him. Because my dumbass was the one who dropped the most powerful device on Earth in his lap! Fuckin-
You slapped your cheek.
No. No. No! Now is not the time to spiral. Now is not the time to lose my marbles!
You take a deep breath and clear your mind.
Whats the new plan?
Plan A: get out of here, save your life and build a new time machine and hope for the best that the Ripper has a weak immune system and dies of cholera or smallpox.
Plan B: stay in this psychopath’s lair, find the time machine, save the world from catastrophic changes in history and time, and get home!
If you were a hero with good morals, sure- Plan B. But you could really not be bothered to be the saviour if you’re dead at the hands of maniac!
You start walking down the hall again, spotting a set of stairs trailing down.
How about this- it’s plan B until I’m in danger, then we jump back to plan A? Yes.
As you descended the stone stairs, the interior finally changed to Victorian again, only more gothic.
The ceilings were high, with intricate gothic arches clawing at walls, illuminated faintly by the moonlight shining through the glass windows, though the fog outside was too thick to clue you in as to where you are. More lanterns guided you down the hall, your footsteps creaking against the wooden floor. You slowed your pace, not wanting to be spotted by anyone.
As you turned another corner, you immediately scurried back as you heard someone walking down the other end of the hallway.
You peeked, and only saw a figured robe walking down the hallway- the same hallway where you were hiding just at the other corner of it.
Fortunately, the figured robe turned to his right and opened a wooden door and entered the room, the door shutting behind him with a loud thud.
That must be the Ripper, so- you quietly crept down the hallway, your heart practically lurching out of your mouth as you made your way past the room the man had went in, praying to God he doesnt come out.
Finally, reaching the end of the hallway, you took another turn and faintly heard the sound of-
Piano? No, something more deep- was that pipe organ?
Great. This place keeps giving vampire castle, rather than a murderers lair.
Some hymn, perhaps dark church, was being played.
Wait- was the Ripper playing the organ? Huh. He could’ve made a good living out of this.
Yeah, I’ll be sure to tell him about switching careers. You rolled your eyes.
You walked down another corridor and this one had more rooms on either side of it. Granted most of them were closed.
Does he keep his victims here? Oh yeah, Y/n, the Ripper is hosting them all like this is hotel Transylvania. Get a grip.
He probably found this abandoned castle, and made his home here. Perfect place to kill and hide.
You heard footsteps again and you shuffled to hide again, but the hall was too long and you’d be spotted before you reached the end of it, so you took a risk and opened the double door, sneaking inside when you spotted no one inside and closing the door as quietly as you could, putting your ear against the door to listen to the footsteps walking away.
You stayed put before slowly backing away from the door, just in case the Ripper decided he wanted to come in here, whatever this room was.
Turning on your heel, you looked around the well lit room, with an altar made of white marble at the center and behind it, large maroon velvet curtains hung on the wall, with a pattern embroidered on it with golden thread. A snake eating its own tail, forming a perfect circle.
“What the hell…?” You whispered as you walked towards the altar.
Is this where he kills his victims? You looked around the marble, it was spotless. Not a drop of blood. Is he a clean freak? OCD perhaps-
Stop psychoanalysing the killer. You’re not an expert, Y/n.
You heard someone talking outside the door and dashed towards the corner to hide behind a pillar in the shadows.
The door opened and in walked- one, two- 6 robed figures wearing silver masks and hoods over their heads entered. They all began cleaning the room, one was replacing the melted candles with fresh ones, one was dusting the antiques lying in the other corner and another was using a broom to clean, two of them were cleaning the altar with what you assume was their version of Holy Water, or maybe it was just that. And the last one- he made his way towards the curtains, before pulling on its golden cord to draw the curtains apart.
Your eyes widened at the sight behind it.
There it was. There it fucking was.
The painting. Your painting. The one Baldwin commissioned of you. The one that followed you through all timelines. The one you had burned with your own hands.
And there it hung, unscathed, mocking you.
How-? How is this possible? I destroyed it- I burnt it to ashes! I did-
As soon as the robed figures left, you sauntered towards the painting, your hands trembling.
Am I hallucinating- no- there’s no way- I’m hallucinating.
You touched the painting. It was real. This is real.
How? How did it-?
You jumped at the sound of someone clearing their throat.
It was another robed figure, this time with a white mask and pearly-white patterns on it, lips painted baby blue. The femininity of her mask and stature gave away that she was a girl.
“Lady Y/n.” She addressed you so politely. “He’s waiting for you.”
You didn’t have to guess who “He” was.
Spotting the robed figures from earlier behind her, you knew you were outnumbered, so with a shaky nod, you followed her, taking one last look at the damn painting before you left.
On the way, you saw many other robed figures, all wearing masks, you deduced different colours meant different ranks. Your gaze went back to girl in white who was leading you to your doom, fixating on the pearly patterns on her mask.
If you weren’t so shocked by the painting, you would’ve asked or rather, begged her not to take you to “him”. But your entire energy was now being focused on not crumbling down to your knees and crying yourself to into a catatonic state.
Eventually, a large door came into view and when the girl opened it, she lead you inside to a dining hall. A large table sat in the center with more than 20 or so seats. However, she didn’t make you sit there, instead she continued to walk and lead you to another door in the corner, and it revealed to be a smaller, more private dining area, with only a small rectangular table and two plush seats. On the right, there was a big window with stained glass, and on the left, the beige wall had two sconces along with different sized candles illuminating the room.
And at the other end of the table, just under the shadows, “he” stood.
As the girl left you two alone, your heart dropped when he stepped out of the shadows. Wearing a black mask with golden tendrils forming an intricate pattern, a black top hat and a stylish long coat over his suit that would make anyone tremble at the realisation of who it was.
“Lady Y/n.” You recognised the smooth voice. “I hope you slept well. How are your injuries?”
The Ripper was standing in front of you, barely 6 feet away.
You gulped the lump in your throat. “What do you want from me?” You croaked out, not realising your mouth had went dry.
He took a slow, cautious step in your direction as if approaching a prey he did not wish to scare.
“I will answer all your questions, but first, supper.” He motioned you to take a seat.
“I’m not hungry.” He stared at you and you felt the walls caving in when he walked up to you, until you could see into his eyes.
“I am hungry, and I do not enjoy eating alone.” He stated in a tone that didn’t leave room to argue. Stepping back, he pulled out a chair for you. “Please.” It wasnt a request.
You sat down, the hair on your arms rising as he pushed your seat in.
With a snap of his fingers, two robed figures came in with food. They set the plates in front of you and him, lifted the cloches to reveal a soup dish. They left you two alone and the Ripper began eating, while you contemplated if this was poisoned or not.
On one hand, if he wanted to kill you, he would’ve done so earlier, right?
On the other hand, this just might be one of the least painful ways to die from, perhaps?
With that, you began eating soup, eyes trailing to the man in front of you.
After entree and dessert were served, the dinner ended and you two sat from across each other in silence.
Is this what dinner with Hannibal Lecter feels like?
“What would you like to ask?” The Ripper finally broke the silence.
“What do you want from me?”
“I want you to see the truth.”
“And what is that?” He stood up and for a second you thought he got annoyed and was going to kill you.
“I suppose it would be better to show you.” You hesitated for a moment before standing. He walked out of the dining hall, you walked a step behind him (if only to have the upper hand if you need to attack him, or more realistically, run away.) but he slowed his pace to match yours.
He was reasonably taller than you, so it’d be understandable if he walked faster.
“Feel free to ask me more questions while we walk.” He offered.
Alright. “Are you going to kill me?” Your steps faltered, preparing yourself to bolt.
The seconds he took to answer felt like hours. “No. Next question.”
You followed him again. At the sight of more robed figures passing by, you asked him about this place.
“Where are we? What is this place?”
“We’re a secret society.” He turned his head to look at you. “You think of the Ripper as a single entity, but as you can see, we have many members.”
“Secret society? Do you mean cult?” You seem to have become a little more confident now that he’d stated he wasnt going to kill you. You forget “torture” is still on the table.
Yeah, he didn’t exactly “kill” Silas either.
He chuckled. “For some people, sure.”
“And what exactly is the society’s purpose?”
“We maintain balance. Stop threats. Keep the routine going.” Threats? Does he mean people he think corrupt society’s morals? Is that why he targeted the prostitutes and the club?
As you were both walking, he pointed towards the fireplace, specifically over the mantel where the same snake pattern was carved into the wood.
“That is the symbol of our society. Do you know what it means?” He allowed you to go and take a closer look.
You traced the wooden symbol with your fingers. A serpent eating its own tail. In a perfect circle. A loop.
“An eternal cycle.” You remembered seeing it while you were studying Egyptian mythology in college. “Renewal of life, death… rebirth?” You looked back at him, and he nodded for you to continue. “In some depictions, the snake would be looped into a horizontal figure-of-eight. Or sign of infinity. The symbol is seen in different theologies and religions, but is generally called as “Ouroboros”. In the Greek version, it means unity in duality—the merging of opposites such as life and death, heaven and earth, and the conscious and unconscious mind. In alchemy, the Ouroboros represents the process of transformation, the idea that destruction leads to creation. In Christian mysticism, the Ouroboros was sometimes used to symbolise eternity and the idea of God as the Alpha and Omega—the beginning and the end. The serpent devouring its own tail was interpreted as a symbol of God's infinite nature and the eternal life promised in Christian theology.
In essence, it is a balance between life and death, chaos and calm.”
“Smart girl.” You could sense he was smiling under the mask. You shrugged. “So what does it mean? You “cleanse” the society of impurities? Of what doesnt fit in your moral code? Just so that life… can continue on? Some order is maintained?”
“You say it like its a bad thing- to rid the society of impurity.” He turned on his heel and began walking, and you followed behind him. You resisted the urge to scoff. “Some would say murder is pretty immoral.” It was a risky thing to say, but the man chuckled. “It is, isn’t it?”
“Did you start this society?” You asked, passing another figured robe who was wearing a sharp three-piece suite, a short top-hat, and a golden mask. He looked at you and only then did you realise that none of the other figures looked in your way. It was only for a brief moment before he looked away and passed you two.
“Yes and no.” You looked at him. He was relaxed, as if in complete control of the situation. As if he cold anticipate any move, any ambush you throw his way. Like he could predict the unpredictable. “Do you know about the Knights Templar?” You nodded. Of course. The Knights Templar were a Catholic military order founded in the 12th century to protect Christians and the Holy Land during the crusades. They were a powerful organisation with significant wealth and influece, with the crown’s backing and funding. However, by the 14th century they were suppressed and disbanded.
He began explaining. “As history records- the Templars were disbanded centuries ago. But despite how brutally they were persecuted, the Templars still managed to survive all this time and went underground to operate from the shadows.”
“So, you’re the Templars?”
He shook his head. “We are a branch of the Templars. Our mission is the same- to protect the public from evil organisations and keep the balance of good and evil.” He directed you towards a door and opened it to reveal a huge room with many robed figures working quietly. There were different chalk-boards. There was a black board on which different names and math equations were written, then another on which different years were written with an event pinned to it. But you were only able to recognise a handful of the historical events, the rest were of them were just- you didn’t even know what they were. The events lined to the years were sentences like-
“She jumps into the water.” “He was lost in the carnival.” “The boy slept in.”
They didn’t make any sense.
The Ripper didn’t stop you from reading the boards. Instead, he continued to explain. “I started this society only after I had lost someone dear to me. To find them, I… I began searching for ways to connect to them. In afterlife.” He hummed. “Its ironic. I never believed in life after death, I’m still not particularly religious, you see. But I was desperate. I abandoned science and logic, and went after mediums who promised me that they will connect me to my loved ones. As you would know, that was a complete waste of time. But it did help me connect with some powerful people, who then tried to invoke my sense of Christianity. In reality, they just needed my money to fund their programs. One of which was the Templars.” You listened to him, while watching the robed figures work silently as they wrote on the chalk board, drawing lines, connecting dots. “They didn’t particularly need me to become a Templar, rather they needed my money and in return, they’d support any agenda I’d have. I, of course, demanded that- my wife may be brought back to me.” It was the first time he addressed who he’d been talking about. He continued on. “They obviously cant raise the dead. And they were fed up with me, so when I threatened to pull back my support, they told me to pray to God. Pray that He may be so gracious and merciful to send her back. That God is kind to His most devout servants. So, I changed. I really did become the perfect Christian. I abstained from all kinds of evils, I followed the light. I studied the Bible, all versions of it, and when that wasnt enough, I studied the history. And thats when I stumbled upon a story. About a king and his lover who went missing.” Your heart began to sink.
He began walking again, leading you out of the room and down another hallway. “You wouldn’t find this story that easily, you see, it was buried so deep into the books, only one manuscript was found and kept save by the Templars. And it was in Arabic.” As he turned, you saw a familiar corridor, and before you knew it, you were back in the room with the painting. “It almost sounded like a bedtime story. A sick king who was bound to die, is saved by a slave girl who seemed to appear out of no where. She saves him with a kiss, because apparently God had given her some divine powers. The king believed so, that she was angel gifted to him by God. And who is he to deny a divine gift?” Your eyes are focused on the painting, refusing to look at him. He doesnt- he cant know.
“Then as all great love stories end, she didn’t want to marry him, ran away from the altar and jumped into the sea, disappearing forever.” The Ripper’s steps echoed as he walked ahead of you, standing directly under the painting. “It is said that the the king was so devastated, he didn’t believe she was actually dead. They never found her body, or any remnant of her. He searched everywhere for her, he left his kingdom and travelled half the world for her. Apparently, he had become so depressed, that he would talk to the painting- this painting, he had commissioned of her, so much so, that his tears had smudged her beautiful face, the lower half of it. I imagined he kissed her right… there.” He pointed at lower half of the face on the painting that was smudged. “The king eventually died with a smile that now he’d finally be able to meet you again. The Templars, embarrassed by their king’s mental state, erased all traces of the girl and any story linked to her was destroyed, in order to maintain the nobility of a true Christian. The painting, however, wasnt found in the king’s castle. No, it was found centuries later with the Ottomans, and I think it was either stolen from the king or the king himself gave it away to be kept safe, perhaps to a dear friend.” He turned to face you, stalking towards you as you felt the temperature in the room drop a few degrees. “Do you know who wrote that manuscript?”
He said it was in Arabic. Salauddin?
“A mathematician called Abbas. The love story didn’t really interest me, nor did it feel true. It wasnt… even that good. But one thing that did intrigue was the device that this girl- slave girl was paying Abbas to make it. He wasnt able to recreate it again, nor did he ever understand what was its function. He did suspect that it may be the reason you were running, or were able to escape. After all, I researched quite a bit and while many parts of his story were true, I was never able to find the family of the girl who she claimed to be trying to find. So, perhaps… the device did indeed have something to do with her disappearance?”
He knows.
He fucking knows.
“Great story. What am I to do with it?” You managed to keep your poker face. He tilted his head at you, not in confusion, more in a “are you really keeping that act up?” manner. You tried to divert the focus from you. “It was just a story, like you said. Besides, you could have all the resources in the world and still not be able to find someone. The world is a big place, and there are more humans than you could ever count.”
“And yet I found you.” He said curtly, cutting off any attempts of diversion. “I found you, Y/n. You were the girl, and yes, I verified it. Directly from the man himself. King Baldwin IV.” Your eyes widened.
“I dont know what you’re talking about. And the king is dead-” He pulled something out of his pocket and you felt fear take over you.
The time machine.
“I- where- thats-” How- how does he know? How the fuck does he know?
“The time-travelling device? Yes, yes it is.” He fiddled with it. “Are you still going to deny everything?”
You took a step back, forcing the lump in your throat down. “Who- who are you?”
He sighed, stepping back a bit. “I suppose it would be better to show you.” And with that he removed his mask.
The room was illuminated well enough by the candles and sconce, yet it still took you a few seconds to recognise the man in front of you.
No. Fucking. Way.
-
“That girl was just someone pretending to be her.” Cadbury informed Silas. He’d just returned from yet another day of following up on leads claiming that they saw Y/n, or were Y/n. Its been three years since you’d been kidnapped by the Ripper. Three years since he’d been searching high and low for you. Silas had done everything he was supposed to do- influenced the police to keep your case open, bribed anyone and everyone for any leads, hired bounty hunters, used all his contacts and more on any news on you.
Cadbury sighed. “Another person impersonating Mrs FitzGeorge for money.” Mrs FitzGeorge. Only Cadbury addressed you like that now. Everyone else assumed you were dead. Most have already forgotten about you.
Silas downed the rest of his scotch before standing up. “I’ll be back late. Follow up on the other leads.” Cadbury didn’t have to ask where he was going. He knew.
Silas was going to a party. A private one. The kind where only the most exclusive members of high society meet to engage in any kind of activity. Nothing is off the table.
He’d figured that perhaps he’d be able to find someone there who could give him any clues on your whereabouts. Or the Rippers.
Upon reaching the mansion, he gave the secret code and was allowed entry. He recognised many of the guests there, William Gladstone, Thomas Hardy, Edison, Arthur Conan Doyle, etc.
Avoiding them expertly, he went upstairs to the room where a special event was happening.
“Mr FitzGeorge, glad you finally joined us.” A guest shook his hand, while he gave a nod of acknowledgement, eyes fixed on the stage ahead.
“Ladies and gentleman, we have a very special guest this evening, all the way from America! Please welcome- Harry Houdini!” The crowd erupted in applause. Harry Houdini was an up and coming magician whose fame had grown fast enough to be recognised globally.
But Silas didn’t exactly come for a magic show. No, he came to know if he can figure out a trick.
After the show was over, Silas came up to him, handing him a glass of champagne. “That was quite a show, Mr Houdini.” The magician’s face lit up in recognition, clinking his glass with Silas’s. “Mr FitzGeorge! I was expecting you!” “You were?” Harry nodded, pulling the man aside and leading him backstage. “Of course! I wanted to ask- was it true that you were buried alive?! How did you manage to keep your calm without running out of breath? How did you get yourself out of the coffin?” Silas’s grip tightened on his glass.
“My wife saved me.” He took a deep breath, setting his glass aside. “Thats what I came here for today. I need your help, Mr Houdini-” “Please. Call me Harry. I insist.” “-Harry. I’m trying to find her. She was taken by the Ripper. And while investigating, he managed to kill a potential lead while he was in the cell, without breaking in or being noticed.” Silas explained the case about the scapegoat who was killed in a cell, surrounded by inmates and coppers, without anyone seeing or hearing anything. He came to Houdini because he was an escape artist, an illusionist. If anyone had a chance of figuring this case, it would be him.
Harry tapped his chin in contemplation. “You’ll need to give me some time to crack this one.”
Silas nodded, pulling out his chequebook. “For which, I’m willing to compensate you.”
“Can I ask you something?” Silas gave a nod. “Have you considered that your wife may be dead?”
I have. “Yes.” The answer was curt. The “And?” Was silent.
Harry tried his best to be cautious in his wording. “And… you still want to find her?”
Why wouldn’t I? Silas has thought about the possibility of you not being alive anymore. Hell, part of him wishes that if you’ve not escaped the Ripper’s clutches, then at the very least, you’re dead. He doesnt want you to suffer the way he or Daisy did. His biggest fear was finding you in one of the asylums, bound and tortured to the point of becoming a vegetable. Every time he went into an asylum, everytime he opened a door, everytime he turned around poor girl, his blood would run cold. Is this it? Is this the time he’d find you? In this horrid place? In this miserable condition? In a state worse than death? Is this the outcome of all the women in his life? Was the Ripper right? Did they all suffer because of him?
“Yes.” Silas answered. Houdini studied him for a bit, before smiling. “Very well. I will keep you updated.” Silas left the party quickly after that. He’d done what he’d came for here, there’s no room for any entertainment in his life. Not until he finds you.
A few weeks later marked the fourth anniversary of your kidnapping. Silas sat on a bench by the river, across from Westminster palace. Every year since you were taken, he’d have the palace be lit up by lanterns. He’d do this on your birthday if he knew it. What kind of husband doesnt know his wife’s birthday? He could also have the palace lit up on his wedding anniversary. But then again, he doesnt think you’d celebrate this union if you were still here.
No. The palace would be lit up on the day of your disappearance. Not to mark it as a day of sorrow. No. It was a request. A beg. A prayer, that if you were able to see this, you’d return. That if you were not able to come out of hiding because of the Ripper, then find comfort in the thought that Silas has not forgotten about you. He never will. The world may have moved on, may have started addressing you in past tense, but he won’t. You’re still alive. You’re still out there. And he wont give up until he finds you. You didn’t give up on him.
Its not about returning the favour. No, Silas has realised that he’ll never be able to compete with you, he’ll always be in your debt. Because you found him when you didn’t have anything, when the whole world was against you, you still saved him. And now that he had everything, all the contacts, all the money, all hurdles removed, he still wasn’t able to find you.
Where are you, Y/n?
Silas won’t say he’s in love with you. He doesnt think he has the right to. Love? Isn’t that reserved for people who don’t hurt their beloved? Isn’t that reserved for people who aren’t cursed like him? If his love was true, if it was pure, wouldn’t he have been able to find you? What has he not done to still not be able to find a trace of you? Where has he lacked?
He’d expanded his search from all over the world. Silas even went to Muslim countries, perhaps you’d gone into hiding there? He even went to Saudi Arabia, performed pilgrimage in Mecca, just for the sight of you. On paper, he was still a muslim. He never changed it since the day of the Nikkah. He won’t lie and call himself a believer, no. But he did pray in front of the Kabbah, a silent prayer as it rained.
What have you reduced me to, Y/n? He mocked himself. You made me fall to my knees, made me beg to a deity I don’t believe in, call out to the higher power, not for forgiveness, not for killing my uncle and cousins, not to ask for peace for my family’s souls, but for you. Asked God, Allah- that He may reunite us?
Who are you? You’re only human, nothing in comparison to others, yet I, Silas Edmund FitzGeorge, begged on my knees, pressed my forehead to the ground, called upon God and believed, if only for a fleeting moment, that He returns you to me. That if He gave you back, I’ll be the best man to you, I’ll take care of you, I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure that you never cry again.
Silas used to think it was the Ripper who made him realise his worth.
He was wrong.
You’re the one who has made him realise his value.
Absolutely nothing without you.
-
Silas sat in his office at the London Post when Benjamin barged in. He was the only one allowed to still act this way because - well, he was your friend. He cared for you when Silas didnt. Plus, he was still helping him in finding you.
“Benjamin. Any progress?” Silas closed the file on his desk and gave the blonde his full attention.
Benjamin’s eyes were sharp. He’d grown aggressive since your kidnapping, becoming more brash by the year. Silas had heard he was often seen passed out in bars and even high on snow these days. If this continued, Silas wont have any use for him. He’s no good to him indisposed.
“No. There’s no news on Henry Blackwood or Lady Scarlet. I’m guessing Lady Scarlet ran off and is hiding with Blackwood. Probably started another club someplace.” He moved to sit from across Silas , putting his feet up on his desk. Trying to spite him.
Silas ignored his antics. “What about his businesses? Any of them still running?”
“Nope. They all closed off one by one, all his partners pulled out when they heard about the Ripper targeting his employees.” He raised his brows. “Guess you’re the richest man in Britain now, eh? Feel big enough yet?”
Another attempt at slighting. Silas ignored it. “If thats all, you can go now.” He opened his file again, not looking up as he heard the blonde scoff and leave his office, slamming the door on his way out. Moments later, Colin entered, as he would whenever Benjamin left.
Silas pulled out a cheque and gave it to him. “He’s quit working at the barber shop, hasn’t he?” Colin nodded. “He’s committed himself to finding Y/n. Though as time passes, his grief deepens. He’s been drinking a lot now.”
Silas kept his eyes down. You would know about the drinking, wouldn’t you Colin? He never brought up that he knew how often Colin drank during office hours.
“Take care of him, Colin. If you need more money, let me know.” Silas dismissed him. He’d always give the cheque to Colin, knowing Benjamin would never accept any money from him.
When he was done with work and returned home, he wasn’t expecting Harry Houdini to be waiting for him there.
“After a whole month? I was starting to think you wouldn’t come.” Silas lead him to the parlour, offering him a drink.
Harry Houdini sat on the edge of his seat, gathering himself. “I must admit, I haven’t been able to crack the case you’d given me. I haven’t found any possible way for that man to have been murdered so brutally without anyone noticing.” He admitted defeat and pulled out the cheque Silas had given him.
He sighed. “Keep it. For your trouble.” Harry sensed the tone of finality. Silas wasn’t going to take back his cheque. Like he knew that Harry wasn’t going to be able to help him.
“You seem like a good man, Silas.” Harry stood up, downing his drink. “Perhaps, if you allow, we could try an unconventional way?”
I’m all ears. Silas gave a nod for him to continue.
“Do you believe in spirits-?” “No.” Silas finished his drink and poured himself another. “But go on.”
Harry smirked. He was desperate. “You see, I’m an escape artist. I do- magic. Illusions. But even I believe that sometimes, there is just another realm out there, invisible to us, doing things that cannot be explained by the human mind.” He paused, letting his words sink in. Silas’s face remained void of emotions. “I believe that the dead can talk. Or perhaps otherworldly beings. Call them spirits, ghost, supernatural beings, whatever. I believe they have answers to questions man cannot answer.”
“So?”
“So, if you’d like, you can join me for a private meeting tonight. Who knows, maybe the spirits can help us find where your wife is. Or if we’re unlucky, maybe she might be the one who talks to you directly. At least, you’ll have closure.”
What a load of bullshit.
“What do you say? Can I count you in?” Harry wiggled his brows. Pathetic.
“Sure.”
Desperate times calls for desperate measures.
Later that evening, Silas was sitting in the basement of an abandoned church. He wasn’t the only one there. Harry, along with 8 other people, all seemingly belonging from high society were also present.
It was a seance, or rather a ploy to scam grieving people of their money. They were divided into two groups. Silas watched the first group sit down on the table, a woman wearing garb, pretending to be a wise gypsy or perhaps a witch, rubbed her hands over a crystal ball.
Theatrics. He watched the woman hold hands with the others and mumble gibberish. This went on for 10 minutes until the candles suddenly flickered and they all gasped, one of them even started crying for their loved one.
Eventually, it was his turn. He sat down with the rest of his group, letting the others go first. Finally, it was his turn. The woman pulled out a lettered board, or as she called it “Ouija board, with the spirits using the planchette to spell out what they want to say.
“It helps the spirits talk to us.” Why? Cant you hear them?
“Who would you like to speak to?” The woman asked him.
“Y/n.” He didnt want to think about you being dead. He was just curious as to what answer the woman could come up.
She closed her eyes, muttered gibberish- it wasn’t Latin. He knew Latin.
She opened her eyes and looked at him. “She isn’t available.”
“What does that mean? Is she dead? Does she just not want to talk to me?”
She looked him dead in the eye. “She isn’t available. Would you like to talk to someone else?”
Alright. “Um… Sarah FitzGeorge.” He didnt want to say Daisy’s name to these delusional people. She’s suffered enough.
The woman closed her eyes, did her routine, then exhaled. “Sarah is here with us. Everyone, please put your hands on the planchette and lets say “Hello, Sarah.” Silas placed his hands on the planchette with everyone.
“Hello, Sarah.” Everyone repeated.
“Sarah, Silas would like to talk to you. Would you like to talk to him?” The planchette moved to “YES”.
“Silas, you may ask what you want.” The woman gave him the reigns.
“Um… are you well?” The planchette moved.
“D” “E” “A” “D”
“Right. Sorry. Um, do you know where Y/n is?”
The planchette moved. “YES”.
Silas looked at the rest of them. He was skeptical. Who was moving the planchette?
“Is she in trouble?” The planchette moved.
“NO.” That was comforting. Even if this lady is moving the board to make him spend more money.
“Is she hiding?”
“YES.” Good. She must’ve escaped him.
“Does she hate me?”
“NO.”
“Is she-” the planchette moved before he could finish his question.
“M” “A” “D”
“Mad? Is she in an asylum?” His fear returned.
“NO.”
“Then? Has she gone mad?”
“NO.”
“Mad. Mad- is she mad at me?”
“YES.” Oh.
“Why?” The planchette doesnt move.
“Why is she mad at me?” When he got no answer, he changed his question. “Where is she? I need to apologise.” The moving planchette gave him hope.
“D” “E” “A” “D”
What?
“She’s dead?” He didnt register the hopelessness in his own voice.
“YES.”
No.
“Take your hands off the planchette. All of you.” He growled at the rest of them, and they immediately retreated. It was only Silas who was holding the planchette. The lady tried to intervene. “This isn’t how it works-”
“Is she dead? Is Y/n dead?” Silas repeated.
The planchette moved. “YES.”
He doesnt remember the rest of the events. The lady took charge over the board again and bid Sarah goodbye when Silas remained silent. He was in shock. It didnt feel real. You’re dead?
“I hope you got the closure you needed.” Harry patted him on the back as the two exited the church. “How did she move the planchette?”
“What?” Harry was confused.
“What trick did she use? I was the one holding the planchette. How did she move it?” Silas glared at him.
“Silas, this wasn’t a trick. It was the spirit of Sarah FitzGeorge.”
“Stop.” Harry did. Silas dragged a hand over his face. “This is sick. You shouldnt- she shouldn’t exploit people like that.” Before Harry could say another word, he left.
Silas returned a week later. He was going to figure out her trick. Lucky for him, the lady would hold as many seances as he’d like to pay for. So, now it would just be him, the lady and… sometimes Houdini.
What used to be monthly visits, turned to weekly, until they turned to daily seances, all held at his home now. He used the Ouija board to talk to Sarah, only her. He couldn’t face the rest of his family, and… you never wanted to talk to him.
Another two years passed.
You were still “mad” at him. He’d tried tracking down the Ripper, he’d gotten rid of anyone who hurt Sarah, but she still wasn’t able to help him find the killer. How could she, when she didnt even know who he was.
Even after five years, he still wasn’t able to find you. If he had to guess, the Ripper got rid of your body, just like the rest of his victims. He didnt have the courage to ask Sarah how you had died.
“How do I make her forgive me?” He asked Harry. Silas had developed a sort of friendship with him. He wasn’t close, except he was in ways Silas never has had any of his friends before. Then again, Silas didnt even want to share something like “spiritual communication” with someone at all. He’d be laughed at.
Harry sipped his drink and shrugged. “I don’t know… buy her flowers?” Silas gaze sharpened. Harry raised his hands in defence. “Sorry. Um, well- I mean, perhaps finding her would be a starting point?”
“How? How do I find her if she’s already dead?”
“Um, its a totally different dimension she exists in now.”
“Dimension?” “Yeah. Realm. After-life, you know? We’ll all get there one day, when our time’s up, so… hang in there, man.” Harry finished his drink.
His words echoed in Silas’s mind.
And so, two weeks later, Silas stood in front of her.
“Hello. Its been a while.” He greeted the tombstone- his grandmother. “Or, maybe not. I mean, you have been “talking” to me.” He shook his head. “I know. Its ridiculous for me to think that “spirits talk”, I know. I am quite self aware that I may have been fooling myself into thinking that I was communicating with the dead, but could you blame me? I was lonely, I had a lot of money, and I was nowhere near finding Y/n.” He looked at the flowers you’d planted besides her grave.
“You were right about her, you know? About her being perfect for me.” A small smile graced his lips. “I used to think she was bad for me. And there was a time when I thought she was good for me.” He took a deep breath. “I do not think of her as good or bad for me anymore. I just think of her as mine.” He shook his head. You’d pull my cheeks and coo if you were here, wouldn’t you?
“Goodbye, grandma.”
When he returned home, Cadbury stood nervously. “Have you done what I’d asked for, Cadbury?”
“Yes- yes. Um, I went to the London Post and gave Colin the papers. He’s officially been promoted to the owner of the company. He didnt believe me and he kept slapping himself to “wake him out of this dream.” He’s gone mad.” Silas laughed. “I’m sure he’ll recover soon.”
Silas removed his coat as he went into his study, Cadbury following behind. “And- and I sold most of your properties and gave the proceedings to charity- “The Daisy FitzGeorge Foundation”.
“Good.” Silas sighed, before pulling out a file from his desk. “You’re fired, Cadbury.” He handed him the file.
“I- what?” Silas began walking out of the study.
“You’re fired. Effective immediately.”
“What? Why?!” The butler was appalled. “I’ve been loyal to you all these years, your only friend too- dare I say, family?!”
“Cadbury, dont be ridiculous. You don’t work for me anymore.” Silas put on his coat.
“This- this is just-” he opened the file, his eyes widening. “What is this?”
“I’ve fired you, Cadbury. I cant just leave you empty headed. This is the rest of your paycheque.”
“Sir-” Cadbury couldn’t take his eyes off the file. “You cant- you can’t just give me the house! This is your estate!”
“You deserve it, Cadbury.” Silas smiled. “Like you said, you’re family.” He turned to leave.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m moving.”
“Where?”
“I dont know.”
“Sir.” The urgency in his voice made Silas turn back to him. “Are you alright?”
Silas nodded. “I’ve never been better. Goodbye, Cadbury.” He held out his hand for Cadbury to shake. The butler looked down at it before pulling him into a hug.
“Dont be emotional, Cadbury. Someone will see your tears.” Silas patted his back, chuckling as the butler held on tighter.
By midnight, Silas reached his destination. The abandoned church.
He walked inside, and tonight the events were going to be held on the ground floor. Not the basement. The place was prepared well tonight, cleaned up and candles illuminated the place. It was packed in here tonight. He wasn’t expecting this many attendees, all of whom were wearing red robes, all staring at him with blank eyes.
He strolled in and was quickly greeted by Harry, who lead him up to the altar. The cross was removed, he’d noticed, replaced by a symbol he couldn’t bother to recognise.
What would it matter? It wont change what he came here for.
Upon reaching the altar, Harry began speaking, “Welcome, ladies and gentlemen. Tonight, we’ll be witnessing and helping our dear friend to travel dimensions. Tonight, we will-” Silas didnt bother to hear the rest of it. His mind was telling him that this is just a cult gone crazy. That he’s being sacrificed for nothing. He doesnt believe anything these people believe in.
“Tonight, we will help Silas meet his wife! He’ll join her, in eternal life, where they wont be despaired. Where no sadness exist. He’ll be rewarded for his struggles, for all his pain, and he’ll be reunited with his true love.” What if you don’t want to meet him? What if you’re still mad at him?
Harry handed Silas a chalice. “This chalice belonged to our great saint-” How does he talk so much? Does he not hear himself and want to rip out his vocal cords? “It contains the ambrosia of eternal life, only given to the brave ones who are ready to take their final journey. And so the-” Ambrosia of eternal life? You mean, poison?
“Lets all pray for our friend’s safe journey to the other realm. Silas, you may drink.” With that, Harry and the rest of the attendees began chanting some gibberish, further cementing his belief that he’s being set up by a crazy cult. At least, they wont be able to get his money. He had Cadbury take care of all his assets, concluded all his businesses, tied all the lose ends. He’s solid.
So if he doesnt believe in anything the cult does, and he knows he’s just being killed for money, why does he continue to drink?
I don’t care anymore. He began drinking. It was sweet. Too sweet, probably to mask whatever they added in. I’m not even sure about the afterlife, if there’s one. And I’m not sure if I’ll meet you there. He’s sure you’re dead. Thats what his logic says. After 6 years, the probability of you still being alive is unlikely.
So, whats the point of it all if you’re not here anymore?
As he finishes the drink, he begins to feel dizzy. He’s laid down on the floor and he finally admits it to himself.
Silas FitzGeorge loves Y/n.
Memories of you begin to flash across his mind.
Silas FitzGeorge loves Y/n.
Your smile, your laughter- how did he ever forget that beautiful sound? The crinkle of your eyes, the mischievous glint in them, even the way your nostrils flared when you were angry.
Silas FitzGeorge loves Y/n.
You were the best thing that ever happened to him. You were his wife, his beautiful, precious wife.
Silas FitzGeorge loves Y/n.
You cried for him, you fought for him, you defeated Death for him, you sacrificed yourself for him.
Silas FitzGeroge loves Y/n.
He could hear you screaming his name faintly. You would be mad at him for going out this way, but you’d understand, right? Right?
Life began to drain out of him, his breathing shallowed.
Silas FitzGeorge loved Y/n.
Harry knelt down to check his breathing, then his pulse.
“He’s dead. Lets go.”
He left with the rest of the attendees. They all stood outside as one of them poured kerosene all over the church and then lit it up. They all watched it for hours until nothing but ash was left. Harry turned to them all, taking a quick bow. “You’ve all been very helpful. We will not forget Silas’s sacrifice. He has opened the door to the other world now. Your loved ones will now be absolved of their sins and be at peace!” The crowd erupted in cheers.
Harry returned to his house, where someone was waiting for him. “Its done. He’s dead.” He watched the man appear from the shadows. “You checked?” “Yes. Then burned down the place. Got rid of the body too.” Harry poured himself a drink and raised his glass.
“Welcome back, Mr Blackwood.”
Henry smirked. “Thank you. Your payment has already been sent to your account.”
“And the other favour?”
“Ah, yes. I’ve managed to arrange a meeting with the queen for you.” “Really?” Harry was surprised. “The mourning queen would see me?”
Henry nodded. “I sang praises of your talent. Who knows, she might be interested in the seances you set up.”
Harry chuckled. “So, how does it feel to be the most powerful man in Britain, now that your sole competitor is gone?”
“Its always good to be home.” Henry then left Harry’s place, all his dominoes were finally falling into place. With Silas gone, not only will he take the reigns over all his businesses, but also influence politics.
As he got into his carriage, he nodded at his two men, who quickly went upstairs to take care of Harry.
Like he would have introduced that idiot to the queen. What a tool.
His carriage began to move and he closed his eyes.
Once his business is concluded here, he’ll be back home to you.
-
You don’t know how much time has passed. You’re still trying to wrap your head around everything, about the Ripper’s identity. You’d never imagined it to be him.
How could it have been? You’ve been trying to match his story with everything, trying to see if you were truly so blind to have missed all the signs?
I didnt.
This- this isn’t possible. It shouldn’t be possible-
“Woah. Your brain’s going to fry if you keep thinking so hard.” You snapped at the sound of his voice. The robed figure with the black mask and top hat, wearing his three-piece suit sat down beside. He was the Ripper’s second-in-command. His right hand.
The first time he had removed his mask, you were shocked. How could- how could he be working with the Ripper?!
He took off his mask and ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it before giving you a lazy smile. “What?” He asked when you stared at him.
“I just cant believe its you, Benny.” You tilted your head, devastated at the fact that he was the killer’s accomplice. “What did he do to you?”
“Nothing.” Benny could see you trying to link some traumatic backstory to who he is now. “I chose this. You don’t understand it now, but we’re the good guys. Even if our methods are unconventional.” He patted your head, letting his hand play with your hair. Like old times.
He wasn’t the Benny you thought you knew though.
“How can you just… trust him?” He smiled at your question. He truly felt like explaining something to a child. “I just do. He’s made me see the reality of everything, given me a true purpose. I know its hard to see the bigger picture, but you’ll trust him soon too. In fact, I think a part of you already has begun to. Isnt that why you’ve been going along with him everywhere?” He raised his brows at you, his eyes still so gentle.
Is this the face of a killer?
You looked away from him, the wheels in your head turning again.
Adorable. Benny thought, still playing with the ends of your hair. “May I braid it?” He didnt wait for an answer, already standing behind you.
“I’m still the same man, Y/n. You just didnt know this side of me then.” He reassured you gently, as if understanding that you may be blaming yourself for being stupid. “You weren’t supposed to know before time. Though I’m surprised you didnt get a little suspicious of me.”
“I was suspicious. I thought you were the Ripper.” You defended yourself.
“And yet you went around with me?”
I chose to ignore it. “I didnt want it to be true…” The way you said it made him think of a child who’d just discovered that Santa Claus wasn’t real.
He tied your braid with a ribbon and came around to face you. Cupping your cheeks, he said earnestly. “I’m still your Benny, Y/n. I still care about you. And I always will. I will never hurt you. I promise.”
You just stared at him, searching for the cracks in his poker face. There weren’t any.
He pulled back, nodding his head towards the door. “He’s waiting for you. Go on, now.”
You sighed before getting up.
Reaching the room with the damn painting, you found him waiting there. Taking a deep breath, preparing yourself for what he’d give you today, you walked unto him.
He smiled when he saw you, his dimples appearing.
The Ripper has dimples.
You peaked up at him from your lashes before looking back down at the ground. Its not that you’re shy, or scared. You- you just don’t know what to say.
“Something troubles you.” He lowered his head to meet your eyes. “What is it, sweetheart?”
Sweetheart.
“It’s nothing.” You avoided his gaze, only for him to lift your chin. “It is something if it bothers you.” You pursed your lips. He wasn’t going to let it go.
“I just don’t understand how you’re the Ripper- how you even exist?”
He suppressed a smile. He didnt want to make you feel silly, but he couldn’t help but tease. “I’d figure that someone who came from the modern times and has your education would understand it better than others.”
“Silas.” He chuckled, apologising quickly.
Yes, Silas is the Ripper. London’s most notorious killer was Silas FitzGeorge.
But not your Silas, not the one you married. No, this is an older Silas, looked to be in his early forties, but he claimed to be 52. His hair had barely begun to grey, his eyes were still the same stormy color, and his dimples-
“Alright, I’ll explain this as many times as you’d like.” Silas took a deep breath. “I’m Silas FitzGeorge. I’m from another dimension, one where you also existed. And when similar events as of this timeline followed, my Y/n died. I looked all over the world for you, for about a decade, before deciding to join the Templars, where I was able to discover you and the concept of time travelling. Using the Templars, I started a society- or rather woke up a branch of the Templars, who also call them as “The Circle”, whose mission is to dedicate their lives to keeping the balance of time and events, and stop anyone trying to disrupt the timelines for sinister purposes.”
“And Benny?”
“Ah, Benjamin was already a Templar Knight. When he heard about “The Circle”, he was intrigued.”
“Did he- did he really kill all of those people?”
“Henry’s employees? Yes, yes he did.” He watched your face fell. “He was only trying to protect you.”
You didnt appreciate his attempt at consoling you. “Who killed me? In your dimension?”
“One of Henry’s men. It was presented as an accident. You died in a fire.”
“So, why are you here? You want me to replace her?” You asked cautiously. He smiled, shaking his head.
“Of course not. Even though you two share the same face and traits, there’s still something unique about her. She was my Y/n. We have shared many memories. No one can replace her, not even you.”
“So, why are you here?”
“To keep you safe. To prevent you from being killed. I wasn’t successful with other versions of you.”
“Other versions. You mean there are more dimensions?”
“There are infinite number of dimensions, Y/n. But we don’t exist in all of them. In fact, I’ve found myself in 9 others. You? Only in 2 others. One was mine, and one was in another, where you had died in childhood, a car accident.”
“Cant you use the time machine to bring your Y/n back?”
He shook his head, a sad smile on his face. “You cant raise the dead, Y/n. I’ve tried turning the time back to save her, but she’d always end up dying. Her death was already written, set in stone. Once the events have occurred, I cant change her end. I stopped trying after the 20th attempt. I watched her die twenty times, each death worse than the previous one. I can’t put her through it again just to relive my time with her again.” Silas sighed, something clear in his eyes. “This is why I came here, to save you. I’ve spent the last 20 years, figuring out all the events and changing them down to the last detail, just so that I can save you. If you’re alive and return to your time, I’ll have broken chain of events. You wont be killed.”
“And why am I being killed? What does Henry want?”
“Power. Revenge. Perhaps he deems you to be a threat if you’re the only FitzGeorge alive. Or maybe he just didnt take kindly to being rejected.” Silas smirked. “That is the common thing in the other universes you were in. You always rejected him.”
“It’s been years since I’ve gone missing. How come you and I haven’t aged?”
“We age only in our own timelines. That is what I’ve observed so far.” You suppose it’s true, because even after he’s taken you through so many different eras, you haven’t aged a day.
You looked at the time machine in his hands. “I still cant understand how you managed to understand the science time travelling. I mean, you may have graduated from Oxford but your education was limited to the Victorian period.”
He laughed, his dimples appearing again. “You underestimate the human mind and its capabilities when motivated.” You glared at him. “How did the Egyptians build the pyramids? With absolutely no modern machines, how did they even lift those heavy blocks?” You shrugged. He smiled, extending his palm towards you as his other hand set a date in the time machine.
“Let’s find out.”
-
Henry’s in his office when his assistant brings in his mail. “This was left for you without a return address.”
He looks at the envelope, then opens it. Its an invitation.
“Welcome back, Mr Blackwood. At the behalf of Freemasons London, we invite you to a night of socialisation with the future world leaders.”
Freemasons, huh. He closed the envelope.
I suppose there’s no harm in making more contacts and blackmailing more people.
He’d decided to go.
And once he’s done here, he’ll be back at home with you.
He reached the building- a castle rather. So, this was the Freemasons lodge? Fancy.
Henry spotted some men, who didnt say a word. They just lead him inside and he was waiting in the lobby, to be joined by the others. He adjusted his cufflinks, fixing the collar of his coat.
What? He wanted to make a good impression.
A shadow watched from above, hiding in the dark, waiting for the other one to arrive.
And then he did.
The shadow smirked.
Showtime.
Henry was still adjusting his collar when he sensed something.
A breath. Someone elses.
He ducked just as a knife was thrown at his head.
“Oh, sorry I missed.” Henry glared at him.
“Silas? How did you-”
“Survive? Did you really think I was just going to kill myself and let you win?” Silas scoffed. “I’ll take you down with me.”
Henry smirked, shaking his head. “Is that the only weapon you had on you, or are you ready to fight like a man?” He removed his jacket, folding it neatly as he set it aside.
Silas raised his fists. “You’ll pay for coming after me and my family.” And the duel began.
Silas landed the first punch and Henry grinned through the blood pooling in his teeth. “Good punch. It’ll be fun to beat you down now.” And then, Henry landed a series of hits that Silas wasn’t able to dodge. “When I kill you, I’ll enjoy taking over everything you own. And then I’ll have Y/n-” He was cut off as Silas kicked him in the gut, making him bend and Silas threw another punch, knocking him off his feet. Silas climbed over him, punching him again and again.
“Where is she?! Where have you kept her?!” Henry cackled through the hits.
“She’s in my bed right now, waiting for me to fil-”
“HOW DARE YOU?!” Silas’s anger had reached its peak and he was intent on killing him.
The shadow watched with a smile as the two men fought. Silas had mistaken Henry for the Ripper.
Benjamin looked at his watch, then pulled away from the balcony and went inside the room with the painting, waiting for you and the Ripper to return.
Any moment now.
And then a bright flash appeared, and you two appeared.
“Benny?” You looked at him, surprised to see him waiting.
“I’d greet you in a better way but we have a situation.” He looked at Silas. “Henry’s here.”
“No.” Silas face went grim. “He wasn’t supposed to find her- how did he even know about this place?”
Benjamin shrugged. “I have no idea, but he’s down there fighting with Silas. This timeline’s Silas.”
Silas is here? You tried to follow them, but the elder Silas stopped you. “No. You need to stay here.” “I cant-” But he cupped your face. “Please, Y/n. I cant endanger you. If something happens to you, all of this, all my work will be for naught. Please.” He was begging. You nodded stiffly, and he smiled. “Good girl.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, before taking your hands, squeezing them reassuringly. Your heart skipped a beat as you stared into his eyes. “I’ll be back soon. Benjamin, guard her with your life.” You watched him slip on his mask and leave.
“Benny, whats going on? Tell me the truth. How did either of them find this place?”
“The two of them mistook the other for the Ripper. They’re fighting for you.” He sighed, walking near you, gathering your hair and placing it on over your left shoulder. “As for how they found this place… well, someone sent out an invitation to Henry. And Silas had faked his death to make Henry come out of hiding, and Silas now followed him here.”
Your brows furrowed. “What? Silas faked his- who sent out the invite?”
“I did.” You didnt have time to react as he pressed on a pressure point, making your world go black.
-
Silas came just in time to see his younger self beating the life out of Henry. But at the sound of movement, the younger one looked up, confusion flashing across his face.
If the Ripper is there, then-
Henry took this moment of distraction to throw Silas off him and he knocked him out cold with a punch. He turned around, only to get hit in the face by the Ripper.
Henry spit out the blood, cracking his neck as he smirked at him. “You’re the reason why my employees died. I’m going to fuck you up.”
However, over the course of next 15 minutes, it ended with Henry being the one who got “fucked up”.
Henry was lying on the ground with at least a dozen broken bones, and he was in a world of pain, as evident by his laboured breathing, barely hanging onto consciousness.
“I’ve been looking forward to this day for the past 30 years.” He pulled out a knife and held it against Henry’s throat. “What a disappointing opponent you turned out to be.”
Just as he was about slit his throat, a bloody scream ripped through the air.
“SILAS!!!!!”
The Ripper’s eyes shot towards the room he’d left you in, smoke had started to come out of the closed doors.
Y/n.
-
Fifteen minutes ago.
You woke up to the sight of Benjamin hovering over you, tying your arms together. Your feet already done so.
“Ah, I was hoping you wouldn’t wake up for this part, but oh well. I suppose it’s tradition for me to confess my crimes to you, as I did in every other universe where I killed you.” He’d placed you on the altar.
“B-Benny, what are you doing? Stop-” Your eyes filled with tears. He cooed. “Shh, don’t worry. I told you, I’m one of the good ones. The ones on the right side of history, and religion.” You tried to reach for the time machine you’d hid in your sleeve when Silas slipped it in your hands.
“Looking for this?” Benjamin dangled the device in front of you before chucking it aside. “Had to get it off you before you slipped away. Silly girl, making me chase after you.”
He pulled out a rosary with the cross and slipped it over your head, onto your neck. “I am the Templar Knight, I will never wrong you or my faith. If its any consolation, this will be quick and painless. This time, at least.”
“Benny, you said you’d never hurt me-” You struggled against the ropes. He held you down, and stared into you. “I am not hurting you, Y/n. I am saving you. I am saving us all.” He pulled out a flask and began anointing you with what you assume was Holy Water.
“I would’ve loved to baptised you, but we don’t have the time for that.” “Please stop.”
“You should be thanking me.” He chided you in almost a motherly tone. “I am making you holy, I am returning you to your maker, I am returning you to Baldwin.”
Your blood curdled. Baldwin?
“Silas- he doesnt see it, that old fool. He’s too far gone in love to ever understand his duty. His responsibility as a Templar. I do! I cant allow sacred, holy, pure creatures like you be just tainted by the world! No, you’re divine, you’re blessed- just like the Holy Grail.”
Oh no. Its only dawning on you now that Benny’s not just a lunatic. He’s a religious lunatic!
“Benny- BENJAMIN! Stop- if I’m so sacred, WHY ARE YOU KILLING ME?!” You shrieked, struggling against your restraints. “Just keep me around like the damned painting- or the Holy Grail!”
He sighed, shaking his head. How naive you are. “Y/n, hey- shh. I can’t you keep you like an artifact. You’re a living being, I have to sacrifice you before the world taints you. You’re already onto believing that you’re Muslim or married to a heretic like Silas.” He pulled out a knife and your breath hitched.
“Oh God. Oh God. Oh God- please- please don’t do this-”
“Dont you understand? This is a good thing. When I kill you, the balance will be restored. I’ve done the math, I swear. With you gone, King Baldwin would’ve never left Jerusalem. Christianity would’ve been the religion of the land. We would’ve ruled all over the world. Humanity will be saved.” He patted your hair as you cried. “Dont worry. I will personally make sure to preserve your sacrifice. I will pray for you, although I think, God will be merciful to you and allow you to enter paradise. You’ll be reunited with Baldwin.”
He’s crazy. He’s crazy. He’s crazy.
“Ive done this before. It was a very quick, very painless death. You remember Daisy?” Your jaw dropped. No. No.
“You killed Daisy?!”
“I had to. How else would’ve Silas been driven by guilt to reach here?” He positioned himself over your head. “Silas thought he was the mastermind behind everything. He couldn’t have been more wrong.” You sniffled, and Benjamin’s eyes softened. “Benny, please- I don’t want to die- please, I don’t want to die!” He set his knife aside, and ran a hand through your hair. “Its okay. Calm down, love. I know its scary, but I’ll help you through this. Forget about the knife- hey, hey.”He cupped your face to make you look at him when your teary eyes drifted towards the painting hiding behind the drapes, illuminated by the candles. He wiped your tears, his heart actually melting at the sight of the big fat tears in your doe eyes. “You remind me of my baby sister. She was so much like you, so pretty, so innocent, yet always a mischievous glint in her eye. Breathe. Breathe, Y/n.” You took a deep breath, a feat that seemed so hard to do now that you were going to die. “You’ve healed a part of me, you know. You let me be the big brother she never had. Thank you.” And just like that, you saw a glimpse of the old Benny. The one you could never imagine killing someone.
He knelt down to press a kiss to your hairline, but you took that moment to knock your head against his hard, throwing off and allowing you to roll away, the sudden movement made your legs hit the candle and push it over, causing the drapes to catch on fire. Benjamin reached for you, but you jerked your bound legs in a way that made you kick him in the chest. You spotted the time machine lying just a few feet away from you and you leapt towards it, the fire behind you catching onto the entire wall.
You were only a few inches away from the device when Benjamin grabbed your ankle and yanked you back. “Enough!” He yelled when you thrashed in his arms.
“SILAS!” You screamed his name and seconds later, the door bust open to reveal the Ripper.
“Get away from her!” Benjamin threw you to the side and you hit your head, knocking yourself out.
The two men began fighting. No doubt, the Ripper was stronger and better at fighting, and Benjamin couldn’t be fast enough to dodge the hits.
Outside, Silas had finally regained consciousness. He looked to the side, where Henry was out cold, badly beaten, barely alive. He then looked upstairs, the sound of yelling and the sight of smoke brought him back to reality.
If Henry is not the Ripper, then-
His eyes widened. Y/n is here! He dashed upstairs to the room.
His eyes darted first towards the Ripper and- Benjamin? What is he doing here? The Ripper was punching Benjamin over and over again, and only then did he spot you lying on the ground, only a few feet away from the burning wall.
Y/n!
Silas was about to run, when he hesitated. What am I doing? Run to her! His mind screamed at his body to move, to save you, but it was like the months of torture had suddenly paralysed his body.
Everyone you’ve ever loved has suffered because of you! You’re worthless. The Ripper’s words echoed in his mind. I’m worthless. I’m worthless.
He watched the Ripper throw Benjamin against the wall, only sparing Silas a glance before turning towards you. You were groaning, lifting your head as you looked at the Ripper.
“Silas.” You called out for him, even as the Ripper walked in your direction. You were calling for him even in the face of death.
Do I deserve her? Am I worthy of her? Irrelevant. She called out for me!
And it was like you’d broken him out of trance.
He ran. “GET AWAY FROM HER!” His heart skipped a beat at the sight of your small head in the Ripper’s murderous hands. Pumped on adrenaline, Silas jumped on the killer.
“I’LL KILL YOU! I’LL KILL YOU!” Silas began throwing punches, while the Ripper only defended himself.
“Silas! Silas!” You stumbled onto your legs, calling for him to stop but it was like he’d gone deaf. The Ripper- elder Silas looked at you and nodded for you to get out of here. You suppose he’ll handle this situation then. You picked up the time machine, running towards the exit when you saw the fire had reached the roof, when you were suddenly grabbed by your hair and yanked.
“And where do you think you’re going?” Benjamin yanked you back inside the burning room. “Let me go!” You clawed at his hands that were embedded in your hair. He dragged you back near the burning painting, where his knife laid. “We could’ve done this the easy way, but every version of you has to fight me!” He threw you to the ground and you screamed in pain.
The Ripper punched Silas in the jaw and threw him off him. He dashed towards you just in time to push Benjamin away and as the two men struggled, Benjamin stabbed him in the chest just before the Ripper snapped his neck.
Silas looked down at you and your eyes were staring at his stab wound. “Dont worry about it. I’m- I’m fine.” That would be a more convincing argument if blood didnt spurt out of his mouth. He knelt down, checking on you. “Are you alright? Can you move?” You nodded, only to hear a loud crack. You two looked up to see the roof which breaking, and before you could react, he took the time machine from you and set the date.
Your eyes widened. My machine!
The roof fell and he shoved the machine in your palm, pressing on the button, pulling you under him and shielding you from the burning roof. You felt it fall on him, but before you could pull him along with you, you’d already teleported.
The Ripper was dead. And so were you. Silas saw the burning roof fall on two of you.
He doesnt remember being pulled out of the burning building, he doesnt remember anything.
All he can see is the sight of the roof falling on you and the Ripper.
He failed. Again.
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