𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕼𝖚𝖊𝖊𝖓'𝖘 𝕷𝖎𝖔𝖓

The Double Charles

Ever since the report on The Lion had been published in the local paper, the story had spread like wildfire throughout the country. Long story short: Y/N was famous. Of course neither her name nor her face was famous, but the alter ego she had made for herself had made an almost flawless debut. Y/N had never been one to eavesdrop much on what the customers were saying but now she couldn't help herself: she wanted to know what all of the locals thought of her little side hustle. Most of them agreed with her and her methods and they were dying to figure out who this mystery vigilante was. One thing Y/N was thankful for was the lack of a physical description of her in the paper. It wasn't until after she read it that she realized she had never asked the reporter's wife not to describe her, but the only things she was depicted as was a hero and a gift from God. Another good thing that had come from the article had been the increased foot traffic around the pub and shops nearby. Everyone wanted a chance to walk on the Lion's hunting ground. This also meant more and more people staying out at night looking for a chance to meet her, and a few times she had been approached by groups hoping to thank her. She never stopped them from offering thanks but she would only ever nod in return or occasionally bow to be extra polite. This had started a rumor that the Lion was mute, but anyone who was saved or was punished claimed that the Lion's voice was incredibly intimidating. Y/N found it laughable that people were actually scared of her horrible, fake, 'deep' voice that she had embarrassingly continued using when she actually had to talk to people while on patrol. 

The Undertaker had been a little upset that the reporter's wife had been the one to get the special inside scoop with the Lion and not him. It reminded Y/N of a little kid whoes two friends knew a secret and would whisper about it behind his back and would flaunt "we know something you don't" over and over again. It was almost painful for Y/N to not to tell him; he had actually become a good friend as they shared more and more breaks and small talk about the town gossip. Y/N was aware he knew more than he was leading her to believe, but the feeling was mutual and the Undertaker knew it. It was like an unspoken rule: they talked about Y/N like her and the Lion were two completely unrelated and different people. Both of them knew it was only a matter of time before someone the Lion preyed upon didn't make it through the shock or the bullet wound and ended up in the Undertaker's care, and as much as he'd love to take care of one of her victims, he wouldn't be too happy to have to start visiting Y/N in jail.

Y/N was on her dinner break, sitting in a booth in the far back of the pub with the Undertaker talking about their days. "Well older men aren't much of a rarity for you, are they?" Y/N asked as she chewed on her food.

"No, they aren't, but you might want to go ahead and swallow your meal before I tell you about the beautiful guest I helped today. In fact," he giggled, "You might've already seen her in today's morning edition." Y/N stopped eating, almost choking on her food. That morning had been the first murder committed by Jack the Ripper. They were yet to get the name Jack the Ripper, but Y/N knew when she saw it in the morning addition: Madam Red and Grelle Sutcliff had finally joined forces and were on their way to becoming one of the most famous and prolific serial killers of all time. Of course Y/N had to pretend like she only knew what she read that morning in the paper: some prostitute named Mary Ann Nicholls had been torn to shreds around White Chapel by some unnamed killer.

"You don't mean the lady from this morning's paper, do you? Mary Ann something?" Y/N swallowed dryly and set down her utensils while the Undertaker smiled and nodded.

"I do indeed, she wasn't in the best of states when she arrived but I fixed her up all nice and pretty, made her look like a fine lady again," he laughed as he spoke. He told Y/N in almost gruesome detail about how he fixed up Mary Ann Nicholls after she was torn apart. Every bone, every fiber of Y/N's body was screaming at her to tell the Undertaker what she knew so that none of the other women would face a similar fate at Madam Red and Grelle's hands, but how would she explain how she knew so much?