My anger sprouts inside of me, and I’m sick of this creep. He needs to back off. “Look, man. I don’t know who you are or what is going on, but I’m not going to sit here and play this sick game or whatever you have planned. I’m out of here, so look for this real Mary person and see if she wants to play,” I snap.
I attempt one more time to move around this guy. I don’t have time to think, as he brings his cane forward directly in the middle of my chest to stop me in place.
Who does this guy think he is? I throw my hand up to move the cane from my chest, but he is too fast. He pulls it slightly back and pushes me forward, until I fall back and land on the bed. There is a throbbing ache on my skin and sternum that makes me want to cry. I let my hand fly up and hold my chest and let out a slow, hard breath.
He looks down at me. “Tonight, Mary, I am going to call you Victoria,” he smiles. I notice a crooked incisor that is single-handedly laughing at me.
I prepare to bolt. I pretend like I’m still grabbing at my chest in pain, and then roll to the side, but this stupid big dress slows me down. The cane shoots to the side in his hand to block my path.
My instincts kick in, and I attempt to move around his cane, but he is there, and his arms are on my shoulders. He is even stronger than he looks, he tosses me back on the bed, and waggles that stupid finger at me again. “Naughty, Naughty, Victoria. The fun hasn’t even begun yet. Remove your dress.”
Is this man joking? I look at him in horror. “No way will I do that. For the last time, I’m not the person you are looking for.”
His voice becomes stern. “I said, remove your dress, or should I make you take it off?”
Wow. All right, my anger is raging now, but I’m beginning to grow nervous at the same time. I’m trying to come up with a way to get around this beast, and I try one more time to dive around him. He grabs me by the throat and thrusts me on the bed.
He comes down and cages me in with his arms on both sides and leans forward to smell my neck. “You smell like honeysuckle on a sweet, spring day.”
All I smell is body odor and sweat, and I’m about to pass out from the smell. “You just smell like piss.”
He laughs as if I just told him the funniest joke in the world. “Victoria, I wonder if you taste as good as you smell.” Then he leans forward, and his tongue is on my neck in a long and slow stroke. I begin to kick, thrust and scream, but he is too heavy for me to knock away.
His hand is at the skirt end of my dress, and he begins to slide it up. I’m terrified of what he is going to try to do next when the door bursts open.
August is there, and the man turns to look at him. “This room is already taken,” he shouts. August has an accent, too. So, we all speak with an English accent here?
“August!” I cry.
August walks in, wearing gray slacks, a black jacket with only a few buttons at the front buttoned. The jacket is longer in the back and is covering a high-collared white dress shirt with a gray tie. There is a black top hat covering his blond hair.
“Sir, I am sorry I didn’t catch your name? I believe this is the room I am supposed to be in.”
The man pushes himself off me. “My name is Thomas and not that it is any of your business. This room is Mary’s and mine for the evening.”
August strokes his chin, as if what Thomas said is worth thinking about. “You seem to be mistaken, Thomas. I have already paid for Mary’s services for the entire week. Therefore, you should enquire with one of the other ladies to fulfill your needs.”
What is August talking about? Where are we? It sounds like we are at some form of place of prostitution. I want to be no part of that.
Thomas turns his head back to me so fast he may have pulled something in his neck. His eyes are bulging. “Mary? Is this true? This can’t be true, can it? We always have Monday’s and Friday’s together.”
I shrug my shoulders and put on the best face of apology that I can. “Thomas, I’m so sorry, but he was able to pay a better price, and I already accepted his offer for the entire week.”
Thomas’s eyes narrow at me, and his face is full of frustration. “Mary, you are nothing but a filthy, lying whore, like the rest of them.” His fists are clenching tightly at his sides.
August slowly walks forward, as if trying to calm down a wild beast. “Hey, let’s not call the lady names.”
Thomas’s frown leaves his face when he turns around to talk to August, and he acts like they are old friends. “No hard feelings, just watch your back with this one. That whore,” he points at me, “will feed you lies and then throw you away like trash for the next person who will offer her something better.”
The man looks at me. “Mary, don’t expect me to come back, even when you are begging on the ground for me to help you again. I am going to Irene. Now that is a woman who can help me feel like a real man.”
I nod my head and try to look as sad as possible. “Good evening, Thomas. I am sorry again.”
He turns around without saying another word but still reaches out to shake August’s hand, as if they made a business deal together, which I guess they kind of are.
Thomas walks into the hallway, and August closes the door after him. As soon as the door is closed, August turns and takes long strides to me, until he is sitting next to me on the bed. He grabs my face in his hands. “Are you all right? He didn’t hurt you, did he?” August scans my face and looks me up and down.
I already feel so much safer with that man out of the room and August here. My hand goes to my chest and rubs the spot where Thomas hit it with the cane. “I’m fine, but I’m most likely going to bruise here where he thrust the cane.”
“He what?” August shouts.
I cover his mouth with my hand. “Shh! I don’t want anyone to hear us.”
August moves my hand into his lap and holds it there. “If I see that guy again, he is going to get the shit beat out of him, just so you know.”
“That makes two of us. I wish Katrina was able to have escaped with us.” I don’t even know what happened to her, but I can assume what did.
August straightens. “She saved your life, Perrie, and she wanted us safe. You safe. So, what she did for us back there, for you, don’t beat yourself up about it.”
I tell him okay, but I still wish there was something we could have done.
I sit up. “On another note, where are we? Why do we both have an English accent, and why did we end up in different rooms?”
He reaches up to remove his top hat and runs his finger across the edge, before setting it down beside him. “I think it may have been because we weren’t touching. I mean we were, but then somehow I lost hold of your hand and ended up in another room in this place. Oh, and by the way, I like you with or without an accent.”
“I guess in this place not only our clothes can change, but our accents can, too. I’m already getting used to the accents, but this place isn’t what I think it is, is it?”
He makes a face as if to apologize. “Oh, it is. It’s a prostitution establishment, and when I landed here, I had front row viewing.”
My body tightens. “What?”
Chapter 14
Did I just hear him correctly? We are in a prostitution establishment? “What are you talking about, August?”
“I landed in a room further down the hall in a lady’s bedroom,” he laughs nervously.
My pulse quickens. “And?”
“And, she had on a lot less clothing than you are wearing. She kept asking me for her money up front. I told her that I had no idea what she was even talking about, and then she told me to perform favors for her. I told her I was sorry, that I had the wrong room, and I left.”
A small amount of jealousy rushes through me, but then I brush it off because that is stupid for me to be envious about. I just had a guy here that was basically trying to do the same thing except for him to pay me.
“How were you able to find me?”
His lip twitches to the side. “I did
n’t know if you were in here or outside somewhere. I started checking all the rooms which was a big mistake. People do some stuff in those rooms that I don’t really want to see again. Then I heard your scream, and I recognized the sound of your voice. I’m glad for that, but obviously, not the situation.
I lean in and wrap my arms around his waist and hold him tight. “Thanks for the billionth time for not leaving me.”
“I wouldn’t—” August is interrupted by a blood-curdling scream coming from outside our door. We both stand up at the same time and look at each other.
“What do we do?” I ask.
August shrugs his shoulders. “We can check to see what it is and see if anyone needs our help.”
I hurry to the door first, yank it open, and August walks into the hall. I close the door and follow him down the hallway into a large area that looks like a pub. There is a circle of people around a young woman who is crying and screaming hysterically.
We approach the group and stay a little farther back but still close enough where we can hear what she is saying. “He got her! He got her! I saw her body, and I saw someone hovering over her. Then the bastard ran off when I saw him, but I couldn’t see his face!”
August steps forward. “You know who he is?” Everyone in the circle turns around and looks at us. I want to pull him back and smack his arm for bringing all this attention to us.
A young woman in her early twenties with wild, red, curly hair speaks to us first. “Jack of course. He isn’t stopping, and he is never going to stop unless we can get him. He is bringing us down one by one.” She rubs my shoulder in sympathy. “Watch your back. I know out there they say not to trust anyone, but it’s hard for our type to do that when what we do is part of our survival. This is the only way to get food in our mouth.”
Shock hits me. “You are talking about Jack the Ripper?”
A tall, broad man steps up next to the woman. “Who else do you know going around murdering whores?”
August stiffens beside me. “There’s no need to call them that. For most of these women, this is their only option to make a living,” he says.
The broad man looks at me and then August. “You are no better than me, sir.” Then he steps around the group and leaves.
Okay, so my brain is trying to make all the connections it can. We left Sleepy Hollow and somehow ended up in Jack the Ripper time. When we crossed out of Sleepy Hollow, instead of jumping back into the museum, we ended up here. I think back to the museum and remember seeing a Jack the Ripper display next to Sleepy Hollow. Instead of being able to get back to the Glass Vault, we must be moving from one display to another. The real question I need to figure out is how do we get out of here then? Because I don’t care why we are here, I just want to get home.
This time I’m a little more prepared. I know a lot about Jack the Ripper. Maybe not a great amount of detail, but Maisie and I did do a research paper on him for English class. I do know that his true identity was never discovered, and I clearly remember the women that were murdered for the most part.
I look at the red-headed woman. “Who did Jack get this time? Do you know who the woman is?” The other lady that was crying is no longer hysterical but still upset. A man is leading her to a room. I hope he is not taking advantage of the situation, but I’m not going to interrupt her from making the money she needs to live on.
The red-head looks down with a solemn expression. Then she looks me in the eye with hazel eyes. “It is Elizabeth. Elizabeth Stride. All he managed to do was slit her throat, but that was enough to do her in.”
I’m not sure what to do, so I put on a face of despair. I’m upset over the whole situation, but it’s hard when I didn’t know this woman. I do feel for her and what happened. This creature of the night needed to be put to justice back during his time.
“I’m so sorry.”
She holds my hands in hers. “Just be careful is all I ask. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“Do you know who I am?” I ask. I shouldn’t have said that and just pretended I knew her.
Her brows draw together, and she puts her hand toward my forehead. “Are you all right? Of course, I know who you are. You’re Mary Kelly, and my name is Fannie Caldwell.”
My eyes widen the most they have ever widened in my life, to the point they may pop out of the sockets and smash to the ground.
I pull myself together for a moment to reply to her. “Yes, I’m sorry, Fannie. This whole situation is playing with my head this evening.”
She nods with understanding. “Just go back to your room and get whatever rest you can.”
“Thank you, and be careful yourself. Goodnight.” I grab August’s hand and give him a tug. He has been watching us the entire time, probably unsure of what is even going on.
When we turn to walk down the hall to find our room, he leans forward to whisper in my ear. “What was that about? Why did you have that look on your face?”
“I’ll tell you as soon as we get back to the room.”
We speed walk to the room, and August opens the door for me. I enter, and then he shuts and locks the door behind us. I fall down on the satiny cover on the bed, and he comes and sits down beside me.
August’s eyes roam my face, awaiting my answer. “Spit it out.”
I look at my hands that are folded in my lap and then look into his green eyes. “I know you know who Jack the Ripper is, right?”
“Of course I know who Jack the Ripper is. Who doesn’t? His case is one of the most famous in history.”
“Okay. So, you know all of his victims then?”
“Well, no. I don’t know that, but I know they were all ladies of the night.”
I shake my head. “Nice way of putting it, August.”
“Well, they were.”
I sigh and bring my forehead to my hands. “Well, yes. They were. Anyway, the point is Mary Kelly was one of his victims, and I am Mary Kelly. That means I’m going to be one of Jack’s fish that he is going to fillet.”
One of August’s eyebrows shoots up. “First off, that is not going to happen, and second off, how do you know Jack isn’t a woman? The killer was never found, right? Therefore, why does everyone keep saying he?”
I pucker my lips and my face transforms into a look of confusion, as if what he said is lunacy. “August,” I start. “There were letters sent to the police, and ‘this person’ signed them Jack the Ripper, not Jackie the Ripper.”
“You know, I’m going to give you that one, but I still say it’s always possible.”
I let my body crash backward so that my back hits the bed. August does the same, his top hat falling off his head. Then I roll over to face him and prop my head up with my arm. “Elizabeth Stride was murdered tonight.”
“Right?”
I tick off the murders in my head. Martha Tabram who may or may not have been a Ripper victim, Mary Nichols, Annie Chapman, Elizabeth Stride, Catherine Eddowes, and Mary Kelly. That means there is one left before me. In the real-world, Elizabeth and Catherine were murdered the same night.
I give August the list of women and tell him my thoughts. “We have no clue if the time frame is going to work the same here. There was no mention of Catherine Eddowes, only Elizabeth Stride.”
August begins to rub his temples, whether from a developing headache, thinking, or maybe both. “I don’t know, Perrie. Maybe the people down there just haven’t heard about Catherine yet, and how do you know this anyway?”
“I had to do a research paper on it with Maisie. When Maisie does a research paper, she has to know every single detail correctly. Therefore, I have to know every single detail,” I let out a small huff of air.
August is about to open his mouth when I stop him. “Wait!” I tell him my theory about how I saw the Jack the Ripper display next to the Sleepy Hollow one, and how we must be jumping from one display to the next.
“I don’t know if we are going back in time, or if we are somehow stuck in a world inside of
the displays. Whatever it is, is messed up.” August runs a hand through his hair.
“I don’t know, but the events in Sleepy Hollow weren’t accurate from what I know. I may not know the whole story, but I know the entire town wasn’t missing in it, so I don’t think we are going back to a true time.”
August sits up. “Agreed. So, you said you fell in this room, right? Did you search around for a portal?”
I lean forward and then get off the bed. “No, I didn’t. I just looked for you, and then crazy Thomas came in.”
August starts patting around the walls. “Let’s look in here. I already looked in the room where I fell in with that woman and didn’t find anything there.”
I walk over to the opposite side of the room and pat the walls. Then I head over to the bed and tap the floor under the bed, slapping it several times with my hand just to be sure, but I feel nothing.
This isn’t like last time when we felt an invisible barrier right where we fell out in Sleepy Hollow. It’s as if we were spat out here by some form of portal, and then it completely vanished.
August gives up on the search and brushes his hair back from his eyebrow. It’s partially gelled, but most of it has come out.
“I say for now we just get some rest since it’s still dark. In the morning, we can go search around the city and try to find a way for us to get out of here,” August says.
“Then what? Are we going to go home, or are we just going to end up in the next display from the museum exhibit?”
I want to get out of this one. When I think of what happened to Mary Kelly, my whole body begins to shudder. What happened to her is only something that the sickest of individuals could have done. She was pretty much skinned and dismantled to the bone.
Even if we end up in another place that isn’t home, I think I would prefer it over having a meet and greet with Jack the Ripper. I don’t even know why I’m Mary.
Quinsey Wolfe's Glass Vault Page 9