Through time; The ripper

He found him

*Lily*

I find myself walking through the cobblestone streets, the air thick with fog swirling around my ankles as I wander aimlessly. The street lamps flicker dimly, casting an amber glow on the weathered stones. It’s a bit weird, they are usually brighter.

The buildings rise above me, their facades worn and uneven. The rhythmic sound of my footsteps echoes eerily in the stillness, and I wonder why I’m out here in the dark, feeling an unsettling sense of isolation. Had I not promised to sty at home? Last thing I remember is being on the couch with the cats.

Something doesn’t sit right. The streets are unnaturally empty even for this time of night, devoid of the usual sounds, and a gnawing sense of unease settles in my stomach. I pull my coat tighter around me, the chill in the air biting at my skin. The shadows stretch and twist, creeping closer, as if they are alive, and I feel an inexplicable pull to keep moving. Why can’t I remember how I got here?

As I turn a corner, a figure flits through my peripheral vision, cloaked in darkness. I can’t make out any features, but the silhouette feels vaguely familiar, sending a shiver down my spine. I quicken my pace, my heartbeat thundering in my ears, drowning out the eerie silence.

Then I hear it… a strange knocking sound, rhythmic and persistent, reverberating through the cobblestones. It grows louder, more insistent, and I can’t shake the feeling that it’s coming from behind me. I glance over my shoulder, but the figure has vanished, swallowed by the shadows. The knocking continues, echoing in my mind, and I break into a run, my feet pounding against the stones.

“Hello!” I call out, but my voice is swallowed by the fog. “Anyone there?”

The lamps, which I now realise are gas lamps, flicker erratically, casting eerie shadows that seem to dance around me, distorting my sense of direction.

I turn again, frantic, and the knocking transforms into a haunting melody, a lullaby that feels both comforting and ominous. It draws me in, urging me to stop, to listen, and I find myself standing before a darkened doorway, the source of the sound. The door is old, the wood warped and splintered, but I can’t help but reach out, compelled by an unseen force.

As my fingers brush against the cold surface, a gust of wind sweeps through the alley, extinguishing the gas lamps and plunging me into darkness. Panic surges through me as I fumble for the door, my heart racing. I can hear footsteps now… heavy, deliberate… drawing closer.

“Lily…” a voice whispers from the shadows, echoing around me like a ghostly refrain. My name hangs in the air, a warning and a plea, and I turn to run, but the shadows close in, wrapping around me like a shroud.

“Lily!” The voice calls again, more urgent this time, and I feel a jolt of recognition. It’s Leo. But even as I call out for him, the darkness envelops me, and I can’t tell which way is up or down. The knocking turns frantic, a desperate plea for escape, and I scream, the sound echoing into nothingness.

Suddenly, I’m jolted awake, my heart pounding against my ribcage. The familiar sight of my living room greets me, the dim light casting a warm glow around the room. I sit up, gasping for air, the remnants of the dream lingering like a heavy fog in my mind.

It was a dream, just a dream. I have fallen asleep on the couch with the cats and dreamed of wandering around London, a London, that I now realise, was more like London about 150 years ago.

Then I hear it… a knocking that reverberates through the silence of my apartment. The knocking was real, and it was what woke me up.

“Who’s there?” I call out, my voice trembling as I scramble to my feet. The knocking continues, relentless and urgent, and a rush of adrenaline surges through me.

My heart races as I approach the door, dread creeping along my spine like icy fingers. I peer through the peephole, and relief washes over me as I see Leo, but it’s quickly replaced by fear. He looks pale, his clothes torn, and he leans heavily on the fence next to my door, like he struggles to stand up.

“Leo!” I gasp, throwing the door open.

He stumbles inside, and I catch a glimpse of blood smeared across his cheek, his eyes wide with urgency and fear.

“Lily… I told you not to let anyone in,” he gasps, his voice strained.

“Oh be quiet,” I tell him, closing and locking the door. “You are hurt.”

He makes a pained face, clutching his side, “Just a little bit.”

“What happened?” I ask, panic rising in my chest as I step closer to him, my heart racing. The shadows from my dream linger in my mind, intertwining with the reality of the moment.

“I found him,” he says breathlessly, his expression a mix of urgency and dread. “The Ripper… he was closer than I thought… and faster.”

I have to catch him when his legs halfway gives in.