The Ripper

His Best Friend

A sharp pain in his head brought Erik out of his black out. The ache seared through his brain like something had ripped through his skull and decided to rampage in his brain for a long while. His heartbeat raced in time to the quick pace of his shallow breaths. Erik cracked open his eyes. Everything was blurry, even the sounds as a few murky voices talked over him.

The last time Erik had such a bad black out was after fighting that drunkard outside the tavern.

Erik's breathing quickened when he realized he didn't know where he was. He couldn't see or register anything. Without Jean to help him, this black out was definitely worse.

Someone shook Erik's body. "Erik. Erik, are you okay?"

Erik groaned in reply.

"He's alive," that person said.

"So's this one," another person replied. "The only victim was the husband."

Erik squinted his eyes and tried to make something of the blurry shapes. Gradually, after a few minutes of effort, he could see again. It was night. The only light came from the guards' lamps. He was outside someone's house, one in the more unkempt parts of Meryl. There were two guards on the steps over there. Erik's uncle stood over him. Erik forced his arms to take the weight of his body as he tried to stand up. The pain in his head prevented him from getting entirely up, so he settled for sitting on the ground.

"You're awake. Do you remember anything?" Erik's uncle asked.

Erik glanced to the side. Jean was here too. Another guard was interviewing him.

"No, I don't," Erik said. "Where are we? What happened?"

"We think you and Jean had a run in with The Ripper," Erik's uncle replied. "We found you two passed out here with the lightning scar on the sides of your heads."

That explained the tearing ache Erik felt in his skull.

"The Ripper attacked again?" Erik asked.

"Yes. He killed Lady Dulane's husband inside. We think you and Jean were attacked when you apprehended The Ripper outside."

"Why didn't he kill us?" Erik murmured.

Erik's uncle shook his head. "We have no idea. The best guess we have is The Ripper only wants to kill his targets. Are you all right? Can you stand?"

With his uncle's help, Erik stood up. The pain in his head hadn't subsided much, but it became more bearable. The guards interrogated him and Jean with a few more questions before allowing them to leave. The next day, both were to stop by the guardhouse to answer more questions.

"I can't believe The Ripper attacked again," Jean murmured. "It hasn't even been a day since the last murder."

"Yeah, there's usually a gap," Erik replied. "Something must have changed."

Erik rubbed the side of his head and felt the small ridges of the scar. Feeling a little self-conscious, he grabbed the handle of his sword and began to speed up the healing process so the scar would fade faster.

"Good thing you can heal that up. I'm stuck with it for a few days," Jean said and scratched at his scar.

"What were we even doing there?" Erik asked. "I remember traveling around the city looking for clues but not much else."

"I don't know. Last thing I remember is your mother asking me to bring you home," Jean replied.

The two were quiet the rest of the way home and only traveled the well-lit roads. It was unspoken, but Erik was sure Jean felt unsettled too. They had met The Ripper, the murderer of Meryl, and survived. Yet, in spite of it all, neither of them could remember the encounter.