He could not remember the events of the night he got that nameless book, but he was sure of it... Somehow, that book would grant his wish.
A few days later, he came to his senses in a dark and nauseous place to soon figure out he was near the garbage bin behind his flat. He had a feeling that night had been a very long one.
As he looked down, he gasped, surprised.
Blood. His hands were covered in dried blood. Mr. Cunningham checked his body for any injuries and sighed, relieved that he didn't found any.
It was not dawn yet as he hurried home to wash off all the dried blood and to dismiss the copper-like scent he could smell all over his body. Once he had arrived home, he began undressing and soon after started washing his blood-stained body. He did not lost it and accomplished this important task as calm as ever. While he was cleaning himself up, he tried to recall the events of the night but didn't have any luck.
Whose blood was it? After he was done washing, he let the water ran, filling the bathtub up.
he needed to take a bath in order to properly think about all that had happened.
he sat in the water and closed his eyes, lost in thoughts. Why couldn't he remember?
He could see fragments of memories, but nothing that could help him remember the events of the night. In some of these fragments he could see someone walking, in others he could see a knife in someone's hands. But more importantly, he could not remember who's blood he had on him. Had he caused an accident? Did someone got attacked? That was a common thing on the streets bordering East End. Or worse.... Had someone died?
He opened his eyes and saw that it was too bright outside to still be morning. He had dozed off and slept in the bathtub. He hurried out of the water and went to look at the clock in his room to sigh with relief. He still had some time before work. As he was getting ready, he decided to put his worries about the blood in the back of his mind as he threw the stained clothes in the fireplace to get rid of them before heading out.
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hellow again it's me again, Ellie-chan~~
thank you for reading this far! ^-^
I hope you enjoyed this part as much -if not more- as the previous parts!
i'm currently working on part 4 so it will probably be here toward the end of this week or on Monday O/
As always, feel free to comment but be sure to stay polite~~
I'll see y'all again at the end of part 4~
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How he became Jack
رعبJack. A pretty common name, don't you think? But did you know that it was one of the most , if not the most, feared name in London, in 1888? You must think: "what about London? what happened in 1888?" the thing is.... 'Jack the Ripper' happened in...
