Under The Blade {Sequel to 'In Time'}

Chapter 14; Untitled

Fear is certainly a cruel emotion.

All living beings worst ideologies encapsulated in a impending dreading thought of pain, sadness, humiliation or death.

In this unfortunate case, it was most certainly death as you darted madly from your killer, heading rushing with thoughts of Evie and if she was okay.

Breathing harsh with mixed whimpers, your boots skidded around the grimy cobbled corners, barely looking where you were going as long as you were going far away from Jack.

Legs were hot and pained with the strain upon your muscles, but the terror that coursed through the Neurones in your brain told you that stopping was not an option.

Eventually all of the running through the blackened streets brought you back to Jacob's apartment, the place feeling colder and more eerie and uninviting than ever. But none the less it was a chance to get away from Jack.

Rushing through the door, filled with panic you slung your shawl onto the chair and pushed Jacob's writing desk in front of the door, sweeping the estranged locks of your (hair colour) hair out of your face.

Next came the burning tears of frustration that had been accumulating ever since you arrived back in the goddamn city. London has previously brought you so much joy, so much love in your younger days- now all it seemed to serve was anguish and hatred.

But most of all you finally found yourself hurting most prolifically over Jacob, realising how very much you still loved him and wanted to be his. But what about his current wife? Could you two ever be, you thought. So many questions flurried in your mind that you just had to slump down against the wood of the door and let it all painfully sink in.

--

Water.

Water. But the same grimy gunk that dropped relentlessly in the same spot from a pipe on the wall, splashing on the concrete floor of Jacob's makeshift cell.

Things had been still for a while, he recalled- not the usual punches and kicks and threats from Jack- just a still silence that didn't ease him but served in further edging him out into the hopeless void.

The assassin got the sense he was never going to be able to get free, would never be able to see another day of sunlight again- but most of all, you.

Jacob's heart ached a little when he thought about his affections for you, and the sheer uncertainty of you feeling the same. He wished he could just see you one more time to confirm his long lasting lovelorn feelings that had spanned a good twenty years of his life.

His thought trail was interrupted with the same series of slamming, heavy iron wrought doors and aggressive footsteps that indicated rage, Jacob tensed his gut and prepared to bare the brunt.

Jack wasn't happy.

Just as the thoughts had entered his head the cell door swung open and further smashed another hole in the wall, and through his better eye Jacob could see the tensed and squared figure of his former initiate.

"Your slippery bastard sister and that little whore of yours got away!" He growled loudly, immediately sending a kick to Jacob's stomach, just what he had been expecting.

"I suppose thinking about it," Jack continued after he'd calmed slightly, "I'd rather them both see your guts strewn about this floor before I kill them." He chuckled darkly, as Jacob coughed up some more blood, the metallic taste had been a familiar one in his mouth as of recent.

Promptly and with little else to say, Jack left again- presumably to wreak more havoc on the streets of London and strike fear into the hearts of many.

Jacob felt utterly useless, his arms and legs all ached beyond being able to move, and his stomach throbbed from the kicks and the punches he received every day.

He wanted it all to end; aside from the fact he knew he had to see you one last time.

---

Silence had crept into all corners of the apartment, lapping at the walls and stirring through the draughty air in the room.

It that was how it had remained for god knows how long, you'd lost all sense of time, all sense of knowing...

Each little creak and groan from the old walls made you feel a shot of fear, telling yourself you were doomed to die and it was the end, and it was a fearful and uncertain bliss when once more things would be quiet, and you were unharmed. It felt rather like a waiting game, waiting to die.

It was when the door was knocked upon softly that you truly had to clap your hand over your mouth to stop your shrieks.

It's Jack, it's Jack and he's come to kill me- he's found me

Your brain cried the same sentence over and over as your heart thudded like that of a deer cornered by a wolf.

"Miss? Miss!"

That voice was familiar - and not Jack's- however in that moment of pure white fear your brain couldn't quite pin the source.

"It's me, Mr Johnson- from the records archive?"

"A-are you sure?" You asked, shaking as you slipped out from under the table you had fled under. You heard a slight laugh from the other side of the door, a chuckle of disbelief.

"Yes, I'm sure it's me."

Bravely, you managed to gather the courage to open the door, sighing in relief.

"Please, do come in." You ushered, taking a deep breath as the gargoyle of a man gave you a questionable look.

"Are you alright-?"

"I'm fine." You responded quickly, offering him a seat, "now, what can I do for you?" You asked, as he sat down with a sigh.

"I had another look through the records for you- and found something that might interest you."

The man's bony fingers laid a worn leather bound packet onto the table top, as your eyes scanned it quickly.

"I expanded my search of children admitted in 1869 to boys as well as girls- and I found this file." He spoke softly, opening the packet, "you said your mother's name was Isla Bell?" He said, as you nodded, (eye colour) eyes scanning the paper.

Right there, under the script was your mother's unmistakeable signature, but it was for a little boy...

Even on her death bed your mother couldn't keep her lies at bay. She had well and truly not wanted you to find your child, the venomous cow.

"Oh my..." You gasped, your chest tight all of a sudden as you flicked through the pages of the wallet; mainly just made up of the birth certificate and a few notes.

That was until you had come to a set of pages bearing the stamp of Lambeth asylum, pages detailing medication administered.

Suddenly your heart started to thud, beating heavily in your chest as you choked on your own respiration, madly trying to take in the information before you.

There, written in the hospital notes.

100mg administered to Jack today

No.

No this couldn't of been the case. This must've been a trick.

"He's my son..." You barely managed to say, wondering how on earth this had managed to happen, feeling so hopelessly empty.

The tale of the empty child with the broken past and the even more shattered future... A man you had come to fear, a man of such a heartless cavity, a savage capability to take the lives of so many women...

He was your own flesh blood.

Jacob's flesh and blood.

All of those years of not knowing, Jacob had been training Jack and never known he was with his own son, maybe if he had known things would've been different...

"I- I have to go..." You scrambled madly, grabbing your shawl as the Clerk fought to get a word in.

But you were out the door in seconds, you didn't know quite how you were going to do it- but you had to give Jacob the truth.