Yet the rain only made the blood red snow lighter, for blood is far thicker than rain...

It is the spring of 1891, the tower bridge still stood, just as it had since before my birth, and I watched it gently over the roof-tops as I made my may across the town away from the tower. The streets of London are dark this time of night, when the moon is so high in the sky, casting a shadow on everything that turns its back to it. On this night the last of the snow had already fallen and began to melt over and across the cobbled stone of the Whitechapel streets.

I walked swiftly, clutching my pea coat tight around me as my leather boots splashed through the dirty slush that covered the cobblestone. I kicked the water up with each step, splashing it up onto my dark blue thick heavy skirt. Continuing to slip and trip over the stone, I stumbled into a dark mews that leads to the home of my older sister. I was never bothered by anyone on my ventures to visit her in light of those other girls being bothered to say the least in this past year. On my ventures at such a late hour not a sole crossed my path; perhaps it was the extreme caution that I used, caution that I had learned to use many years before, at the expense of unsafe naïve girls walking the same streets.

The mews was just an example of this, this was not the path I originally intended to take, but I was blocked by a group of drunken men stumbling out of a pub ahead of me. This would have caused a larger problem than I wanted to deal with and I was not in the mood for such a nuisance. I turned to my side, for the mews was becoming narrower as I excited, holding my bag out away from me to avoid getting stuck in here until morning, I continued on. My back and knees dragged across the wall in places, covering me in more smudges of filth. I felt muddy water and snow fall down from the rafters above me into my hair. With disgust I pressed on, faster than before. The buildings were too close together for more than one person to travel through this way, yet I had an aching feeling of eyes on me as I exited the narrow mews.

I was still not within sight of my destination when the feeling of being watched gripped me yet again. My pace quickened as I rounded the corner at the end of the street, finding myself four blocks from my sister’s home; the detour that I had been forced to take had caused me to drift too far off the path, resulting in the need for me to backtrack, and leaving me unsure as to where I was. Upon turning back the way I came, I found the source of my discomfort. A tall, dark man stood behind me, moving only as I moved, following me as my shadow would.
“Good evening sir,” I greeted, curtsying to him, forcing a simile, and trying to look under the rim of his hat at his hidden face.

“What would a lady such as yourself be doing out in this part of town? At this hour no less! Have you not heard of the danger that lurks in this cities shadows?” he waved his hands into the air in over exasperated frustration. The man’s voice was smooth, comfortable, and seemingly kind as it flickered with intelligence. I could hear a smile on his lips, and although he kept his face from my sight I knew it remained on his lips.

“Oh, you see, I am heading to my sister’s home, I go to see her most every night,” I replied while slowly backing away from the man, beginning to fear the looming figure.

“Well, such a beautiful young lady should not be out so late without someone looking out for her. Only for the hour being so late in the night, and the situation here being as it is, would you mind if I joined you miss? For your own safety I assure you,” he offered. There was no true worry in his voice, and I know that there was nothing for me to fear but the unknown. Remembering that this man was unknown to me, my mind was made up, and I continued to back away.

“Oh no, sir, I merely have to travel a few more paces. I assure you I am quite secure. I bid thee a good night.” The man was relentless, moving closer still. I could see the outcome of this growing ever closer and ever more painful for the loser. One would walk away from this chat and the other... I feared that this unlucky soul would be me, and that I would soon meet thy maker. I continued back ever more slowly, but the gap between the two of us was closed by him in two quick strides.

“It is no trouble miss; I can escort you where you need to go no matter the distance. I believe that this is a good use of my time.” For the first time, he revealed his face. His eyes where the first thing that caught my attention light, sea blue, and beautiful, full of what seemed like kindness. His facial features were perfectly proportional to each other, but none of them out shown his eyes. His almond shaped eyes were framed by angular cheekbones and a jaw line that appeared to slice through the nighttime smog. His perfectly symmetrical face radiated confidence, showing off his stunning beauty. There was a moment that I relaxed, for a person with such perfection could not mean to inflict any harm upon me, but looking back into his eyes, the more I looked, the more I saw. There was anger and darkness behind the light kindness that shielded him.

There was no stopping him at this point, his mind had been made up as well; reviling his face showed his intent in deeper detail. He was far too convinced that I would not be able to speak of him after this incident, for the dead cannot speak in their graves. I stepped away from his out stretched arm; I could accept my fate willingly or not, when I did not move, he took his chance.

As he reached behind his back I saw the glimmer in the dim light of a sharp knife. I did not scream, only ran not looking back at the man I now knew was my attacker.

I pulled my dress up away from my boots, taking large steps as I sprinted to a street that I did not know. My bag hit my knees as I ran and continued to slow me down, dropping it behind me in the hopes that it would slow the man I sprinted on. As I ran I kicked muddy water from the puddles up into my face; the dirt falling into my eyes, blurring my vision, and the cold water stinging my cheeks as it splashed my skin. I stumbled a few times before I felt myself really begin to fall; the ground was too slick and the cobble stone uneven and bumpy. I fell into a small bank of snow that had been pushed out of the way. Rolling onto my back, the cold ice burned my face as I looked up at him. He had kept pace with me as I ran through the streets, his nearly silent foot steps went un noticed to my ears; he was barely struggling to catch his breath, although his hat was no longer on his head and his eyes where wild. What struck me most of all was the fact that he was laughing. I propped myself up planning a new escape as he flipped the knife in his hand.

“You know love, you could have walked away. You could have given me what I wanted, but now, tisk tisk, looks like we’re going to have to end this on a bad note.” I still did not scream. Rain began to fall from the dark clouds making my poor vision worse, I figured at this point should I not try, my death would be confirmed in an instant. I turned back over to my stomach and tried to stand and run again, but this man was fast; he had flipped me back over and had me pinned on the cold snow. Looking up into his eyes they were not the same, light color that they had been moments before, but dark and showed his true intentions. I set my jaw as he held the knife up to my throat, his deep blue eyes drowning me.

“Now, now, now we are going to play this game my way love.” There was only one thought in my mind, and there was no particular reason why I did what I did, but there was no way I was going to go down without a fight, not now. I pushed his arms away fighting him, something that he was not expecting as the surprise was plain on his face. He was not putting all his strength into this, but I was, and I was slowly starting to lose. I had one chance to get free and I was worried that if it failed this would end much more painfully for me.

I slipped my leg out from under him. His body slipped down for a second and he nearly killed me on accident. I pushed up on his chest, rolling myself out from under him and sitting up on my knees. He jumped back at me before I had gotten a good look at him again. This time, his arms were around my waist since, evidently, he had dropped the knife somewhere in the snow. As soon as I came to this realization, I began to struggle harder than before. Unfortunately, he had a backup plan. His hands jumped from my arms to my throat, I felt my airway collapse.

Choking, I scrambled, trying to quickly get him off of me. I looked into his eyes, their pure fury burning me as I watched. Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my hand and felt cool metal around the object that had cut me. I slipped my hand around what I hoped was the knife, still looking into his eyes. I was not dying fast enough for him, so he lifted my head up by my neck and slammed me back into the cold, over and over again. I took hold of the knife, feeling the pain in my head and the lack of air making everything blurry. I pulled it up and held it over his back. Using the only amount of power I had left, I jammed it between his ribs. He cried out, letting go of me before pulling it out of his side, with a new dimension to his face. One that I could tell was fear.

I rolled over, lifting myself off the ground, and hunched over as I coughed, trying to take in air. Thankfully, my chest was the only source of pain presumably from the sudden air intake. He screamed in pain and anger, looking at him again I saw his new plan. He ran at me, his hands covered in blood. I tried to move, but was not fast enough. He had me on the ground, yet again, holding my head down with a handful of my hair.

For the first time I screamed out in pain not fear, as all the pins in my hair ripped out onto the snow covered ground. He screamed again, in pure rage as he tried to drive the knife into my heart. He missed only by inches, barley skimming my shoulder. And for the second time did I scream only before biting my lip. Beginning to cough up blood, he dropped the knife, looking at me with newfound fear as he leaned away and gave the room for me to push out of his grasp.

I picked up the knife standing now, looking down at the suffering man as the rain began to fall harder. He lay back in the snow his breathing labored, each breath sounding as through he was drowning on dry land and I felt pity for him, something that I knew was irrational. This man had injured me, and not only that, but had attempted to kill me! Looking down at him, all I saw was someone dying, covered in his own blood. I did not end his suffering, but I stayed with him until long after I was sure he was dead. I stood looking down at him, the blood melting the snow and the rain trying to wash away the gory scene. Yet the rain only made the blood red snow lighter, for blood is far thicker than rain.