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Clockwork Heart Chapter 13.5 RIPPER

A wall zoomed up to meet them, but they kicked their feet out. They paused for a second and then, with a great big kick, they pushed their selves up from the top of the barrier separating the property from the rest of the city and over the blocks of brick and mortar. It did nothing to slow their momentum and before they could get their feet beneath them, the cloaked body tumbled over the wall and into the softness of the grass beyond.

Within a few seconds, like a relentless machine that just kept ticking on, the Ripper was up and running at full speed to the illuminated building ahead that despite the vast amounts of light pouring from its windows was covered in shadows. The ripper almost smiled. Shadows were good.

A man stepped out of one of the door in the lower levels of the house, turning his back towards the Ripper as he picked up a massive metal bucket that was almost half the size of the man. Slowing their pace the Ripper watched with a groan and flexing muscles the man hefted the metal tub off of the floor and headed away from the house.

Noting the open door, the Ripper fled towards the house before the man could return. There was no use in creating more witnesses. Thus with more caution than the killer would normally use, they passed through the house like a shadow – seen only from the corner of the eye but never given full attention. And yet while the Ripper toed through Clancy manor, its eyes would search every nook, dart a glance through every doorway. And they were listening – always listening.

And then, stepping out of a room with a saddened expression upon his features, Mr Clancy stepped from his daughter’s door. Closing the door behind him, he turned and pressed his forehead, breathing in deeply for several seconds.

And then he turned and saw the figure standing at the other end of the hall – and he did not balk. He merely blinked and smiled. The gesture pulled uncomfortably at his face but still he walked through the hall, closing the distance between the unlikely duo until there were barely three feet between them.

“I did wonder when you would come.” Richard Clancy murmured, glancing behind the cloaked figure with a frown. “You didn’t hurt any of them did you.”

The Ripper tilted their head to the side and regarded the man from the shadows of their cowl. When the silence had drawn on too long, they pulled back the cowl to reveal the golden skin and hair below. Then, in a belated answer, the cold hearted figure shook their head back and forth.

“Thank you,” Mr Clancy murmured.

In that instant his entire figure relaxed and he nodded at the Ripper. He had accepted his destiny a long time ago and as certain as he was about the importance of his daughter in the future of the town, was how certain he felt that his time was drawing perilously to a close.

“Where is it?” the silken voice hissed as Mr Clancy stepped forwards so that there was barely a whisper of air between them.

Reaching up a hand he stroked the cool unyielding cheek before him. Sighing softly, Richard shook his head in negative. The Ripper’s head cranked to the side unnaturally before throwing the hand away from their face.

“Where is it?” The voice was desperate now – longing coating every word that passed the killer’s lips.

“Gone.” The Clancy patriarch whispered painfully. “It was destroyed. And I have no way of getting you another one.”

The pitying tone washed over the Ripper causing an unusual sensation to well up within the being. Its hand shot out like it had every time they had killed before. But this time the killer did not tear his heart from the chest. No, the ripper inserted its hand into his chest instead. They watched the older man as his face started to crumple and then like a mere bug under their shoe, the Ripper closed their hand around the frantically beating heart, relishing the feeling of life within the palm of their hands a second before they squeezed. And squeezed. And they squeezed again until the heart burst within their grasp.

For a second the old man opened and closed himself in mute shock before he closed his eyes and smiled. All the tension and lines in his face dropped away as his weight fell ever more upon the hand within his chest.

Seconds passed, with the Ripper staring at the peaceful expression on the dead man’s face. Like a confused puppy, they tilted their head to the side for several long seconds before yanking their hand back. It pulled from the limp man’s body with a loud slurping sound.

Like a puppet with their strings cut, the body tumbled to the floor in an awkward heap, blood rapidly pooling from the large hole in the man’s chest. For a little while the Ripper just watched as the blood spread out from the body, reaching their shoes and continuing onwards.

And then the man’s words, the one’s which had caused the Ripper to prolong his death for a few seconds longer than necessary. It was gone.

The ripper’s head drooped as the consequences hit him. Richard Clancy was the only person who could have helped and now – for the rest of the Ripper’s existence they would have to tear out hearts day after day. It was a pitiful and bloody existence but the Ripper did not want to die.

Growling, the being flicked up their hood so that they would forever be in the darkness. Then with quick and surefooted steps, the Ripper left the manor as quick as they had come, leaving a corpse and bloodied footprints in their wake. Although no one had seen the Ripper, the presence was definitely felt.

A maid came out of one of the hidden passageways humming to her. Her curly hair framed a pretty and delicate face that showed no evidence of the hardships she had seen in life. And yet when her gaze fell upon the body of her employer strewn across the hallway, she let every bad thing that had happened in her short life appear on her features. For two long seconds she paused, and then craning her head back, she screamed and screamed until her throat gaze out. She would not be able to speak nor sleep for many weeks after that.