Death's Puppeteer

22nd July 1909 - 3rd April 1901

The woman appeared to be in her late forties, with a slightly hooked nose, not unlike a bird, and a full head of dark hair piled up into a bun on the top of her head. She was dressed in a dark blouse and skirt that gathered around the bustle and stood quite tall, carrying herself with the air of a matron in a hospital about her business.
"Hello Enoch, my name is Miss Nightjar..." There was a kindness in her strong voice as she spoke, and something about it reminded Enoch very much of the sound of the bird that had fluttered off minutes before into what he knew to be a dead end.

"...'ow do you know me name?" Enoch muttered and stared wide eyed at the woman from his position on the ground against the wall.

"Your name is Enoch Ambrose O'Connor, the son of Owen O'Connor a local undertaker and you are sixteen years old."

"Should I know ye?"

"I shouldn't think so, no. But you have seen me before, and I certainly know you. I must say, I didn't care for your dismissal early this morning though I understand the circumstances."

Enoch tensed and glared at the strange woman as he started to stiffly push himself to his feet, keeping his back to the wall as he stared at her warily. "I never seen ya before. What the 'ell-"

"You never saw me before, actually, but that's hardly the issue here." Miss Nightjar corrected and Enoch's scowl only deepened as he watched her with an uneasy sort of curiosity as she continued with more of a softness to her words as she passed an eye scrutinisingly over his face. "My dear boy, you have had a difficult time of it, haven't you?"

"I don't fink I'm any o' your business, lady..." Enoch turned his face away self-consciously and turned up his collar to try poorly to cover some of the bruises and welts. He was thoroughly unnerved by how much this strange woman seemed to know about him, she spoke to him as though she knew him like an old friend. "Leave me alone." Keeping his head bowed slightly, the boy turned his back on her and started to walk back down the alley.

"More than you think it is. You're not the only one, Enoch."

Enoch couldn't help himself. He paused after only taking a few steps away and, though he didn't turn his head, his heart started to beat faster as he muttered, "The only what?" She couldn't possibly be talking about what a tiny part of him dearly hoped she was, could she?

"I think you know precisely what I mean. Wouldn't you like to know what's been happening to you?"

He didn't want to care so much about it, or anything at the time, but something very akin to the tingling in the soles of his feet when he embraced his power, compelled the boy to turn around on the spot and look back over at the woman. "What's that 'sposed to mean?"

"I know perfectly well what you can do, Enoch. Wouldn't you like to know why?" Something glinted in her dark eyes, something that made Enoch drop his guard and take a few more steps back towards her curiously.

"You can tell me that?" He asked cautiously, and glanced down at the palms of his hands without fully realising what he was doing before he curled his fingers into a fist and clenched them shut.

"I can, my dear boy. As much as you need to understand and that we have time for to begin with. Now...I'm sure we won't be disturbed here so..." Miss Nightjar turned an empty apple crate upside down with the heel of her boot, swept aside her skirts and sat down upon it. "Perhaps you should be sitting for this discussion." When Enoch didn't move she smiled just a little and inclined her head. "Tell me, do you really think that I mean you anything but help?"

She meant no harm, he was quite sure of that, though Enoch knew he'd never seen this woman before in his life. He couldn't explain how he knew, but something felt warm and almost protective about her, like a mother hen. Slowly, he sunk back down on the curb just across from her and said nothing.