The Bloody Ripper (Leopard King Saga)

by T. A. Uner

  Ambrogio had ordered her to carry out the executions with particle weapons, but she had (as always) ignored his orders and used her trademark weapons: bow, arrow, and dagger, before finishing off the target in grisly fashion.

  Her reason behind this was to avoid detection. But she knew damn well that Humanity possessed no technology capable of detecting an energy signature from an energy weapon. In this reality Earth had only recently entered its industrial age, less than fifty years ago.

  What transpired was a pair of grisly killings, drawing the attention of Scotland Yard, and bringing Ambrogio’s pristine service record under official inquiry by The Black Arm.

  All because of that fucking cunt.

  He knew he was in danger of losing his command when ten Hollow Men had been sent to him. Personally he did not care much for these new agents. But The Black Arm was adamant about investigating Vampiress’ activities, so he did not dissent.

  “Where is the Vampiress now?” Ambrogio asked one of the newly-arrived Hollow Men. A taciturn fellow (weren’t they all?) named Wells, who had neat blonde hair and muscular hands.

  Wells stared at Ambrogio and thought for a moment. Ambrogio always found it amusing when their whirlpool eyes began spinning rapidly behind their sunglasses whenever they needed to think or communicate with one another.

  “In Knightsbridge district, Chief Ambrogio,” Wells replied politely. “Shall I tell her tails apprehend and bring her in for questioning?”

  “No, not yet.” Last thing I need is to alert the bitch. If I want to destroy her credentials and send her back in disgrace, I have to plan this right. Her family is too powerful. “Have them continue to track her movements, but do not move in until I say so.” The Hollow Men tracking her were carrying their standard equipment, Black Cubes, capable of transfiguring their appearances into 19th-century London gentlemen. They couldn’t go walking around London with those whirlpools now could they?

  • • •

  Vampiress knew she was being followed; the question remaining was who it was. Did Ambrogio have one of his cronies tailing her? Or was it The Black Arm?

  She could’ve easily scanned the area and spotted anyone using a transfiguration device (Black Cubes) but that would’ve alerted them and then she would be fighting a battle she wasn’t ready for. Ambrogio was likely involved, and when she proved it, she would make that worm pay.

  Today she had abandoned her cloak and was dressed like a regular Victorian lady. Her wide hat was covered with white and violet plumes, and helped keep the sunlight abated. Not that it would kill her as she was protected by her shield. But she hated wearing the tight undergarments under her day dress; it did not allow for comfortable movement. How women in this era suffered just to look attractive, she thought.

  Up ahead she saw her quarry. This was one of the main reasons she and her section had been sent to this time period. She had already taken two of them out, now she would track the third before making her move. “You won’t escape me,” she whispered.

  It amazed her how the first two traitors had been easily found and exterminated. Did they think they could escape justice? Vampiress was the top assassin for The Sect, surely they knew of her reputation.

  She had never failed in a mission. As a matter of fact she hardly ever missed kills: once she had missed on purpose, that was to frighten off Jackson Mansfield in the alley near Knightsbridge. The other time she had missed it had cost her dearly, her brother Renault.

  His death remained an open wound within her. It had also cost her the trust of the academy. It had dropped her after learning of the accident near the Eternal River. Even her father’s elevated standing could not get her reinstalled.

  But her father would not rest until she was vindicated. Now that Renault was gone it was her responsibility to continue the legacy of their proud family name.

  The Baron had enlisted the finest instructors to train her in the arts of physical combat and weaponry. After her daily lessons were over he would continue drilling her until she was exhausted. Not that it bothered her, the extra training helped keep her mind off Renault’s tragic death.

  With her father’s insistence she had been granted probationary standing within the Black Arm. She started as a low-ranking warrant officer. Training fresh recruits from the academy before attracting the attention of the Viceroy’s Corps Commander. Once, while observing one of the classes she taught, he had been impressed with her advanced tactical skill. “Where did you learn your skills, Fiolia?” he had asked her.

  “From my father, mainly,” she had answered.

  “I’ve been told by other high-ranking officials that you shot your brother during a scuffle with Maratak in the forest near The Eternal River.”

  She knew that he would bring up this topic, her name mired in stigma since the day she had tried to kill the Maratak Patrol Leader. But she knew how to answer her critics. “It was an accident,” she said confidently, knowing that would be the only way to win over the Corps Commander. “I have learned from my error, but I will not allow one blemish to prevent me from fulfilling my true purpose of surviving The Sect with distinction.”

  Indeed, her words had much effect, the next day the Corps Commander awarded her a commission.

  From there she began her ascent. Like a Death Angel she terminated every target assigned to her, and won every officer distinction award that existed. The Sect acted as if they had never blacklisted her, instead bestowing upon her the rank of “Field Operations Leader.” Now she was their top assassin and finest weapon.

  But this was before the Hollow Men had been created by the Black Arm. Despite endowing their new secret police corps with a fierce sense of duty and loyalty, they always sought better ways to accomplish their goals, and the Hollow Men had been their answer.

  She turned her attention back toward her target. Amazing how the traitors had blended in with this society. She often wondered why they had chosen this time period. Perhaps they thought they’d be safe here. But why did they assume identities as female prostitutes? It had been a long day, and she needed some amusement. She decided to take a detour and try and lose the two Hollow Men behind her.

  That should make Ambrogio angry.

  • • •

  “What a stroke of luck,” Jack said. He and McCoy were inside a bookstore when he found a tome about Vlad III, prince of Wallachia, the 15th-century tyrant infamous for impaling his enemies. He purchased the book and went over to McCoy who was trying to locate a book on undead creatures.

  “Here we are,” said the bookstore clerk, a bushy-haired Irishman with ruddy cheeks and thick grey eyebrows. The title of the book was Undead creatures, Volume One. “Going hunting for goblins again, McCoy?”

  Seamus and the clerk were acquaintances; years ago they had both come over from Cork on the same ship. “Same as always.”

  “Dear God man,” the clerk said, “you are a cheeky one, McCoy.” Seamus paid the man before he and Jack found a table in the back of the store to inspect the new purchase.

  “This book was written by an English professor named Duncan Meadows from King’s College. Apparently the book had been published in lieu of Meadows’ experience while visiting his father’s grave in Sheffield. Apparently he had encountered a ghoul and was successful in killing it. “Meadows claims that the ghoul was living off the land and had attacked sixteen people in Sheffield.”

  “How did he manage to kill it?” Jack asked. McCoy returned to the tome and after skimming through a few passages. “Just as I thought…silver.”

  “Will silver help us?”

  McCoy closed the book and nodded. “I don’t see why not. Ghouls, Zombies, and Vampires are all classified as undead creatures. So, in theory silver should work on all.”

  “Now all we have to do is find some silver weapons.”

  McCoy pulled out a revolver and showed it to Jack. “This is an Enfield MK I, it’s a .476 caliber gun.” McCoy unloaded the bullets from the handgun’s cylinder and handed them to
Jack.

  Jack inspected the bullets. He wasn’t an expert on ordnance but immediately recognized silver when he saw it. “Where did you have these made?” he handed the silver bullets back to McCoy who reloaded the Enfield and placed it back in his shoulder holster.

  “There’s a blacksmith up in Manchester who makes all sorts of hard-to-find items.” He paused for a moment and lit a cigarette. “When I was on that case up in St. Albans I had it made after I realized I was dealing with Vampires. Now I’ll finally get the chance to use it.”

  Seamus lit a cigarette and the smell of tobacco smoke filled the area around them. Jack checked his pocket watch and realized he needed to get to the hospital; his shift was scheduled to begin within the hour. “I must be leaving you now, Seamus. Duty calls.”Seamus stood up and shook Jack’s hand. “Stop by the office when you’re done with your shift, mate. We can continue our discussion.”

  Jack smiled. “Not tonight my friend, I have to take my wife to the opera.”

  • • •

  That night he took Mercedes to the Royal Opera House in Covent Garden to watch Shakespeare’s Othello. He was not very fond of these types of productions, and was also tired after his latest shift. But part of marriage was compromise, so he had happily agreed to take her.

  They were up in the balcony, overlooking the stage. The play was in the final act and Jack wanted to get a pint at the Sword & Lion before heading home. Jack fought hard not to sleep during the performance, but he hadn’t slept much in the past few days. Luckily Mercedes was too enthralled with the play to even notice his fatigue. He excused himself and went to stretch his legs, as he stepped off the balcony he saw her.

  It was the Vampire woman who had tried to kill him the other day.

  She was sitting in one of the boxes watching the play. “Bloody hell,” Jack whispered to himself. He didn’t know what surprised him more: seeing her here or the fact that Vampires enjoyed opera. He decided he would get a closer look. She wore, a crimson sleeved evening gown with a low-cut bodice. Her dark hair was done up and she would occasionally peek through a pair of binoculars to watch the show.

  He found his way to her box and observed her from behind. Around her people were casually viewing the play, unknown that a sinister creature was within their midst. On some foul mission that could spell disaster for England.

  He still had the knife she had hurled at him the other day in the alley. He drew it from the inside pocket of his jacket. After twenty minutes she stood up from her seat, lifting her skirts, and came toward him.

  This was his chance.

  He positioned himself behind one of the curtains, as she exited the box he gripped the knife and rammed his elbow into the base of her skull. The blow knocked her off balance and she stumbled to the ground. At first he felt guilty, having never assaulted a woman before. But this was no ordinary woman. She rubbed the back of her head and quickly collected herself. When she saw him her eyes narrowed into slits and she hissed at him like a serpent. “You again!”

  “Here, you forgot this,” Jack said, hurling her knife back at her. She moved quickly, It slashed a cut in her sleeve. Despite this she growled at him like a beast and hurled herself at him. He braced himself for impact and felt her body knock him down. Even though he had never wrestled a vampire before he knew her physical strength was superior to that of any ordinary human. They struggled for control until she finally pinned him down.

  She barred her fangs at him, and he felt her hot breath. It smelt sweet like cinnamon. “I promise, you will die quickly human,” she said, smiling. His wrists were pinned to the red carpet beneath him. She lowered her fangs and he head-butted her. She growled like an injured animal.

  “Is there a problem here?” someone said.

  Both he and the female Vampire looked up briefly. Two ushers, wearing red uniforms and matching hats had entered the hall, no doubt attracted by the noise Jack and the female vampire had caused during their struggle.

  She shot the ushers a smile and straddled Jack. Her skirts were all over his face and when he tried lifting his head up she slammed it down against the floor.

  “Get the police!” Jack said.

  One of the ushers made a dash for the door. But the Vampire woman was fast, she got to her feet and tackled him. She drew a small knife and slit the usher’s throat. Blood spurted everywhere as the young man’s fingers tried to stop the torrent of blood draining from his body.

  She then hurled the knife at the other usher and it struck the man in the knee.

  Jack got up and found the knife she had hurled at him in the alleyway the other day. “You ready for another round, blood-sucker?”

  She smiled at him and he braced himself for another assault. But instead of engaging in another round of battle, she lifted up her skirts. “There will be another time,” she said. Then she was gone in a blur.

  Jack rushed over to the usher whose throat had been cut but the man was still. He felt for a pulse but there was none. He cursed loudly at the senseless death.“This was Nigel’s first night on the job,” the other usher said sadly. “Poor boy.” Jack closed Nigel’s eyes and muttered a prayer. Then he pulled out a handkerchief and wrapped the other man’s bloody knee tightly.

  • • •

  Robert arrived at the Royal Opera house within twenty minutes. By the time he got there he had four Police Constables alongside him who were still panting from the brisk dash they had endured to keep up with Robert.

  Fortunately he had been dining at a fish & chips restaurant in the area so when word reached him of a madwoman who had attacked a man and two ushers in Covent Garden, he dropped his meal and ran as fast as he could. That was when he encountered the four police constables en route.

  Inside the main lobby he saw his brother Jack, wearing a tuxedo, treating a man in an usher’s uniform. Mercedes was next to him. A crowd of theatre-goers had gathered behind them like a flock of geese. Robert had not expected to see his younger brother, but was glad no harm had come to Jack. “Are you alright?” he asked.

  Jack nodded halfheartedly.“Except for my ego.”

  “She was crazed,” the surviving usher said, “and she killed poor Nigel.”

  Robert turned his attention to a body lying a few feet from where Jack was treating the wounded usher. A white sheet had been placed over Nigel’s remains.

  Half an hour later a horse-drawn ambulance had arrived to take Nigel’s remains away. During that time Jack and the surviving usher, a man named Philip, had given their statements regarding the incident. After Robert had taken down their depositions, Jack asked to speak to him in private, away from the onlookers.

  “There is one more thing you need to know about tonight,” Jack said.

  “You may not believe it, and if you don’t, I don’t want you to think I’m crazy.” Now Robert was insanely curious. “Spit it out, Jack, I’m not in a patient mood.”

  “The creature that attacked me tonight, and killed that boy, she wasn’t human; she was a Vampire.”

  If they were at a pub or at his home, Robert might’ve found this amusing. “Quit fucking around, Jack. Dear God man, we’ve got one dead boy and another man seriously wounded.”

  “I’m dead serious. This isn’t the first time I’ve seen her. She attacked me in an alleyway outside of Harrods’s the other day. Besides, the other night when we were at The Sword & Lion weren’t you the one who had listened to me when I spoke to you about vampires?”

  He did remember. “Why didn’t you tell me about this attack before?”

  “I went to see a private investigator who deals with these types of cases, besides, you’re busy with this ‘Leather Apron’ killer.”

  “Is there anything else you’re not telling me Jack?” Robert asked, eying his brother suspiciously. He knew when Jack was withholding information.

  Jack knew he’d been cornered. “I’ve been tracking this creature, along with that Irishman, Seamus McCoy. We’re both convinced that she’s a Vampire, up to no goo
d.”

  Robert scowled. “You’re no detective, Jack; I’m only going to tell you this once, so listen well. Stay the hell out of this case!”

  • • •

  “What you did was quite foolish, Jack; you could’ve been killed last night.”

  Jack knew the Irishman was right, but his curiosity had gotten the best of him. “She was right within my grasp, Seamus, what else could I have done?”

  “You could’ve called me; there is a public phone in the opera house you know.”

  Honestly Jack didn’t know of any phones, and he wasn’t about to risk losing this Vampire woman while waiting for Seamus to show up. “She’s incredibly strong, Seamus, I’m lucky to be alive.”

  Seamus snorted. “Damn right you are; but now she knows that we’re on to her. She may have left town.”

  “I seriously doubt that. Before she took off she told me ‘there will be another time.’ No, she’s still in London, I suspect we haven’t seen the last of her.”

  “Let’s hope you’re right, Jack.” Seamus handed him today’s paper. Jack read the cover story. A local businessman and Baron, Samuel Montague, was offering a reward of £100 for any information leading to the arrest of the Leather Apron killer. “With both this serial killer and our Vampire loose on the streets, it’s going to present a challenge to avoid being detected by the police.”

  Four

  Blood rumbled along the track as it left Liverpool Street with its latest cargo.

  The new Master Conductor, Lok, had not been happy being assigned this post. Much like his predecessor, he thought it wrong what The Sect was doing to the humans. He felt like a common thief, all this nighttime travel to keep their mission under wraps. No wonder the previous Conductor had rebelled.