Through time; The ripper

Trying to explain

*Leo*

I can feel her heart racing beneath my fingertips, the warmth of her breath ghosting over my skin. She blinks up at me, her eyes shimmering like jewels… one moment they seem to be a deep azure, the next a striking emerald. Fear flickers in her gaze, a mirror of the urgency I feel building inside. I must shield her from the looming danger that stalks us, but even in this moment of crisis, I can’t help but notice the spark of intelligence that dances in her eyes, igniting a curiosity I never anticipated.

“Who is that?” she asks, her gaze darting to where the shadow slipped away, a wisp of darkness evaporating into the night. The question hangs between us, thick as smoke, suffocating and heavy and I decide to be honest.

“Jack the Ripper,” I reply, my voice steady yet low, a whisper that barely cuts through the stillness. The name, a ghost from my own time, carries an unsettling weight even in modern-day London. I was sent here to avert the horrors he brings, to rewrite a narrative stained with blood, but fate is a cruel mistress, and so far, I’ve failed… except for her. I saved her.

“What do you mean?” she demands, her brows knitting together in confusion, a mix of disbelief and a desperate need for clarity shines in her eyes.

I can see the gears turning in her mind, and I tread a delicate line; I must protect her without drowning her in the twisted depths of true reality. “He’s a killer,” I say, choosing my words carefully. “A predator who stalks the shadows of this city. We have to move before he finds us again, he is not one to give up.”

“Duh,” she rolls her eyes at me, a spark of defiance igniting in her expression. “I know who Jack the Ripper is… was. But he… Oh, you mean the one the papers are calling the new Ripper?”

“New Ripper? Yes… yes, that’s exactly what I mean,” I say quickly, it is not a lie, they call him that now.

The alley is dim, but I can see the way her eyes widen, the reality of my words settling in like a stone in her stomach. I can’t blame her for being skeptical. If I were in her shoes, I’d be questioning everything too. But there’s no time for lengthy explanations; the less she knows, the better… at least for now.

“We should call the police,” she insists, her voice rising with urgency. “Before he can hurt someone.”

“They would never catch him,” I tell her, my tone firm but calm. “I will handle it, but I need to get you home safely first.”

I take her hand again, feeling the jolt of electricity that sparks between us, a connection forged in the fires of danger. We slip out of our hiding spot, and the streets come alive with muted sounds of the night, but it feels different now… charged, like a predator lurking just out of sight, waiting to pounce.

“Where are we going?” I ask, my voice steady as I navigate the labyrinthine streets. “Where do you live?”

“I’m not sure I should tell you,” she mumbles, uncertainty creeping into her voice. “After all, I don’t know you. How do I know I can trust you?”

The alley opens into a small courtyard, overgrown with ivy and cloaked in shadow, the towering buildings looming like silent sentinels. In the center stands an old stone fountain, its waters dark and still, a relic of the past.

“Where are my manners? I’m… Leo,” I say, using the nickname normally reserved for only my closest friends. “And you are?”

“I’m Lily,” she replies, her name rolling off her tongue like an incantation. It suits her, even if she doesn’t embody the delicate flower it suggests. There’s a fierceness in her spirit that intrigues me.

“Here,” I say, leading her behind the fountain, where the cool stone offers cover from prying eyes. “We can rest for a moment.”

She leans against the stone, her breath coming in small, rapid gasps, the moonlight illuminating her features in an ethereal glow. There’s a magnetic pull that draws me to her, a fierce spirit wrapped in vulnerability. “You still haven’t told me who you are… not just your name,” she presses, her voice steadier now, curiosity replacing some of her fear. “Are you like a police agent?”

“To be honest, we don’t have the time for a full explanation,” I admit, knowing that my past is a tangled web of secrets. “You’ll have to trust me.”

“Trust you?” she scoffs, but there’s a flicker of intrigue sparking in her eyes. “You expect me to trust a stranger who claims to know about a serial killer?”

“I know I’m practically a stranger,” I say, stepping closer, trying to convey the sincerity of my words through my gaze. “And I understand that trust isn’t given lightly; it’s earned. But right now, we need to focus on your survival. Time is slipping away, and the longer we stay here, the closer he gets to a victim, it be you, or someone else.”

She studies me, her expression holding equal parts of caution and contemplation. I can’t blame her; it’s a sensible reaction when faced with the unknown. But I need her to understand that her safety is my priority, above all else.

Just then, a noise echoes through the courtyard… slow, heavy footsteps that send a shiver racing down my spine. I glance toward the entrance we came from, feeling the shadows shift and pulse like a living thing, a predator on the prowl. “We can’t stay here any longer,” I say, urgency creeping into my tone. “We need to move.”

Before she can respond, I grasp her hand firmly, leading her out of the sanctuary of shadows and back into the labyrinth of the city. “Point the way.”