Under The Blade {Sequel to 'In Time'}

Chapter 12; Exploration

The weeks seemed to blur into one continuous cycle of Evie thinking she was attaining strong leads on Jacob after many brutal mauling murders; only to be stumped against with one continuous end.

You on the other hand; had grown restless of biding your time in the apartment constantly tortured by the memories of Jacob's presence- you wanted to atleast discover some things for yourself- your own personal mission.

So, one bitterly frosty Tuesday morning you headed out onto the streets of Whitechapel- for once the sun wasn't masqueraded behind a fogging of clouds; and instead shone with an intense white light that made the wet cobbles of the city gleam under foot.

You knew your destination, as you had done for a while. All those weeks of waiting and putting it off, hoping Jacob would be found.

As much as it pained you to feel Jacob's absence tearing at your heart- it didn't excuse the many burning questions that aspires to be answered within the parts of your head.

Determined; you knew you still wanted to discover the truth of your estranged daughter- the main reason you had come back to the city of London.

A short walk under an iron wrought ivy green bridge and turning through a slight paved courtyard, brought you to a grand old looking house that had official all over it. From the old woman's description, you knew this to be the place where the documents were being kept.

Bravely, you walked slowly through the front door of the place, the small windows giving it a closed feel, as scarcely any light crept up the walls and cascaded onto the high bookcases filled to the brim with sandy coloured paper files.

Gliding about the shop floor your (eye colour) eyes drew slowly about each shelf, intrigued as to of your daughter's file would truly be there.

"Oi!" Came a sharp voice, like a jab in the side, making you spin quickly on your heels, clutching your shawl slightly for comfort, heart racing after being jumped out on like that.

The source of the gravelly old voice was a man who looked to be in his late 50's, with ashen grey wiry hair like that of a street mutt, his lower jaw set prominently forwards and his long and stooped beak like nose jutting outwards. His brows were set into a constant furrow as he shuffled towards you in his rather dusty looking suit attire.

"Who do you think you are, missy?" He barked, his spine curved like a creature, a gargoyle, as he mumbled away to himself, looking at you over the long line of his nose. "Walking around here like your anyone's business!"

"I'm sorry-" you apologised quickly, "I was hoping you might be able to help me:"

The old man scoffed like you had already asked for one of his vital organs; not like you'd get many years out of any of them anyway.

"Pfft! My help?"

"Yes- I, er, I was told by a woman that this is where the files for the orphanages are kept?" You asked, feeling yourself getting rather worried about the man's reluctance.

He grizzled darkly to himself as he turned on the heels of his worn leather shoes, his arms visibly shaking from age.

"Files? What would you be wanting those files for?" He asked hotly, as if he was defending something very sacred, and you swallowed down the feeling of being a pest to him because you knew you had to find out.

"It's my daughter... She was taken from me at birth and my mother brought her to an orphanage in the district." You replied, your voice quaint as you clasped your hands above your stomach in a respectable fashion, the old crone stopping almost for a moment, his back still to you.