A long time

How long has it been?

West is dead.
Broken neck.

Tau is dead.
Stabbed in the heart

Theta is dead.
Heart failure due to exhaustion.

I am alive.
In the office.

Alone.

I walk the stairs sometimes.
I hear what still is a blur around me.

Like white noise,
a humming in your ear.

London Bridge
is falling down.

I asked so many questions at the start:

"Who am I?"

"Where am I?"

When really I should have asked:

"How old am I?"

The first letter I received was dated 1887.
That would make me... 127 years old at least.

But as far as living?

Sixteen years since then
and just over a year here.

At least I believe it is just over a year.

Even after gaining control;
loops are strange,
especially when you are alone.

You see, this organisation.
Our backers.

The Gentleman.

The Gentleman has decided that
there will always be a Mother.

Even when I killed every single member like I was asked.
there is always one left.

Me.

But that doesn't matter.

Before I killed Tau
he handed me a letter.

Well.

He handed me two. The first was dated January 11th, 1888.

"Dear Mother. 

As I am certain you are aware, and despite the gunshot wound you left me with, I had my final meeting with Father and we came to an arrangement. I am hereby promoted to the rank of Tau, and establish Mr. Edward Smith of Santa Fe County to function as Theta. As such, your presence is no longer required. 

Enclosed is a phial of a white powder, I am assured that by the end of this letter you will be ingesting it. My assistant is currently at your shoulder, in fact, his hand is holding you there, isn't he? 

You will no longer read this letter, though I am sure that Ember will. 

When you are finished with your job, Ember. Please put him to bed. I shall be joining you in America shortly, please report to the Santa Fe office and I will meet you there. 

Yours,  

Tau"

The second was dated a couple of months later I think.

"Ember, I have proposed an experiment to you. I cannot order you to do it, but it is the last thing I can do after your partner was executed.  

I am finding it difficult to focus.  

Father occupies my thoughts, my dreams, he knows of you but I want to try and save you, give you a chance to leave this order in a way that you cannot die for. 

There is a house, a cottage. It is looped in a way that will make you forget that Father even exists.  

It will make you forget everything, even your name. 

Maybe then, when this is all over, I can release you. Help you remember who you are and what you mean to me. 

Tau"

I made my way to the top of the office,
it is a hard climb that feels like it goes on forever.

Floor after floor

after floor

after floor.

I made it though and walked into a room
I saw the last letter of Jules Chenier. Dated; September 20th 2001.

"Hey Ember.  

I'm so sorry. I haven't visited you for fifty whole years. He was in my head and I had to keep the order running and I just... 

I just forgot. 

I brought you something, a computer. I don't know if it would work, and I don't know if you'd remember me, but I spent a week teaching you how to use it. You probably won't remember me. You never do remember me. But you seemed to be okay learning how to do the basics. 

I... May be taking you out soon. Theta has begun to find out about you. He runs the proxies and someone like you... A proxy who isn't controlled by Father. Who can't even see him. 

It is useful to him and I can't stop him if he decides to. Not on my own. 

I have a plan though. A plan to end it all and in the coming time, I will need your help. 

~Tau."

When I read the last one.
It all became clear to me.

That was what I was.
A proxy's proxy.

I did the blurs bidding without even knowing about it.

And now I do?
I don't care.

I am not afraid.

So today I will leave the office.

The office that has trapped me for so long.

I will go
             down
                      the
                            stairs.

And I will open the door.

I am Ember Fay

and I am Mother

and I am grief

and I am love

and I am free.

A Proof of Concept.

I awoke in the early afternoon.

to the sound of fighting outside in the snow.

Two men arguing over who should be partnered up.

Then punches got thrown.

I looked at them, 

looked at West.

We both walked through the gathering crowd.

I stepped between them.

I told them that there are no partners.

No secrets.

Someone screamed why they thought I should be in charge.

After what happened with Duckie.

After I killed someone who was close to all of us.

One of them draws a knife to stab me.
I kill him.
I said I felt stronger now.
I have told them all before.

I say that I will free them.
And I will do that.
But is not a democracy.

It is my way or the road.

No more half measures.
No more assassination attempts.
Theta, either come and face me.
Or we will come and find you.

A Little to Report

We keep moving.
We keep fighting.
I understand though.
He has control of the loop.

We can just wait until he runs out of mooks.
Or those mooks decide to join us.
Any war is one of attrition.
That is what this is.

I am being melodramatic.

No... No I am not.

None of what happened before has happened.
I have been coping otherwise.
I still cannot focus on the thing I call "blur."
I am uncertain if it is fear of pain or a physical limitation that stops me.

Salome taught me with knives.
The trick being to cut them many times.
Then go for the killing blow when they cannot resist.

It is odd not ignoring that and going for the quickest option.
A quick death feels more humane.
Though the idea of being humane does not fit with this.
It is not one person, but an order we must kill...

If duc



Nevermind.

An Absence

I fell asleep.
I went crazy
and violent
and then I fell asleep.

At least that is what McKay tells me.

Every time they moved.
I would start murmuring something.
And then I would sleep again.

"Ember. I love you Ember."

Not Duckie's voice.
Someone elses.
Tau's?
Jules?

Too much to think about.

He told me.
That was my last memory.
He told me I was Ember from the past.
He told me he was Jules.

Jules Chenier.
He gave me one last letter.

Then I killed him.
I...
He asked me to kill him.
Why did I kill him?

I feel stronger now.

A kitten.

West does not wish me to tell you this.
But he has a weakness for cute animals it seems.
A few days ago I heard a mewing from the alleyway.
And there it was, a kitten.

A white and ginger ball of fluff.
Maybe two months old?

West took it in,
looked after it.
I do not think it likes me.
It scratched me.

So we have a pet.

I call it cat.
West calls it...
I do not recall what West calls it.
He calls it something else anyway.


I do not like cats much.
They play with their food.
I prefer animals that go for the throat.
A quick death is better than a laboured one.


Oh.

Also I was attacked
when I found the kitten.
Tore the stitches in my belly.

I do not recognise the attacker.
It was someone new,
maybe someone who thought
that a kitten is a perfect trap.

And it was a very good one.

We have moved on now.

A loss

I have been through a lot.
I have killed to survive.
I have killed for others.
I have killed for myself.

Tau came here.
Met us.
He looks ancient.
He is balding, weakened greatly.

It is like he is withering away since he left the office.

I have to help him stand.
I asked him why he sent the letters.
That was what West told me.

He knew.

Tau said "To get you to know you."

A killer. To get me to know a killer.
Me.

I asked him who was Jules.
But he would not answer.

Whilst I was asleep,
wounded,
my duckling had gone off.
He was attempting to kill the highest.

He succeeded and he paid for it.
He paid for it with his life.

It is amusing.
Our plans are somewhat the same.
Only our outcomes will be so different.
They must.

I do not wish to die.
But serving the blur gives only one end.
I... It is getting less difficult.
I sometimes hear it said.

Normally it is garbled,
but if I listen hard.
Focus.
Sometimes they say "Sle





































West here, we were downstairs when Ember just screamed like a fucking howler monkey, went foetal on the bed and passed out. McKay can't explain it. We talk about... Upper Management in a different name and Ember suddenly looks distracted. Calls it a humming in his ear, like a fly bouncing around in your brain.

I don't think it is safe for Ember to use that name. Tau said it happened last time.

Gotta go, Tau's calling a meeting. I'm not giving numbers, but more come each day.

None of us want to kill any more. None of us want to place our partner's ashes with the thousands that lie there already.

Ember's stable. McKay, he chose the new name so we can call him something, fixed the kid up. Apparently he keeps holy water and prayer and shit like that for instances like Ember's wound. Still no news on Tau.

Bye

I don't like this blog but I figured you'd all want to know. Ember went to sleep the night of the last post and then never woke up. Ember had been fucking hiding the infection from me, by the time we found out, Ember was feverish and the wound was covered in this black gunky stuff.

Yeah... This isn't the kind of infection we were treating Ember for. You know, the normal kind... In fact it's kind of a surprise that the kid didn't get infected since before now. Though I suppose the constant resets The Office gave helped with that.

I can't tell you where we are, or even who we're with. Because that could be used to track us.

Ember will be fine and apart from Penny's stab wound, the others are healing well enough.

Now, onto the second order of business or whatever the fuck it is.

In regards to Ember's little comment about normality last post having people talk in the comments about it.

I can't speak for Ember but I can speak for myself. My parents were killed by this Order and they gave them me to look after.

I didn't have to kill. I had another choice. I could die as originally planned. Ember and I have more things in common than I'd like to admit. Every kill I did, every person I took out of normality and showed them what it was like to have their neck broken. I told myself that it was different. I was killing to survive.

I never wanted it though, I had the same fucking thoughts as Ember. Looking a third option. One that stopped me killing, and moved the fucking gun away from my head.

I've seen people die who made the same promises as Ember, but with Tau on our side. With Ember still alive. I'm gonna bet my life with them. Even if it's a slim fucking chance and a stupid idea now. I made my move. I aint gonna be taken back.

West

A cell.

You know...
I wonder what normality would be like.

Normal friends.
Normal family.
Normal relationships.
Normal life.

Even wondering about it feels so...
So alien.
Like I am staring through a looking glass.
People who don't know how close to death they are.

People who think they are invincible.

West and I talked a little.
Back when we were training.
We talked about roles.

Pawns, Queens, Kings.

Once, when Penny was messing with me.
She called me a pawn,
one move away from the other side.

That is me.
I cannot afford to look back.
Only forwards.

My leg is infected.
We got to the cell.
I am on some kind of tablets.

They make me throw up.
I shall sleep again now.

Goodnight

A failed goodbye

Half an hour after the events in the last post,
I was trying to visit Duckling.
My Duckling.
You could guess how it went...

West argued against it but I screamed at him.
I needed to see him one time before I left.
I needed to tell him it was going to be okay.
Even if it was not.

I walked into the hallway,
and Trent was there...
He stabbed me with a spear.

That bastard Fracture.
He stood over me.
Gloating.
"It's over, Ember."

It will be over when I am dead.
I would not accept it.
It was then that West pushed Fracture to the side...
They fought.

It all went so fast.
Tugging the spear out.
Opening Duckling's door.
Seeing a bomb on the bed.

Twisting to run.

It was like...
A deep thud against your chest,
then your ears hurt and
then it all sounded like bells in my ear.

Never stopping.
Drowning out everything.

I had managed to get out of the doorway in time.

Then West was pulling me out of the building down the fire escape.
I'd managed to get to my feet.
I could feel the occasional clang.
I suppose they were bullets.

Then we made it to the car.
We stayed in a motel for a couple of days.

Let me get my hearing back to a degree.
Now we are travelling.
We are travelling a long way.
Everything still hurts.

But I am getting better.

I need to get better.

A blur

This shake...
I cannot be rid of it.
Every time I try and stand,
my knee keeps shaking and I fall.

West resolved to let me use him as a crutch.
At least until we can get either decent painkillers
or a real one.

I could walk when the pain was too great,
the adrenaline coursed through me like...
Like fire.
The day after the kill.

Now I'm helpless.

Smith.

Everything went wrong apart from the fact Smith was dead.

I knew it would be difficult.
Me against his bodyguards.
Maybe the need to incapacitate
one of my teams.

This one did not need to be secret.
Not for long anyway.
Tau told me it would save lives.
And I understood it.

I asked West to help.
When he found out...
He said he would keep me alive,
but he would not kill them.

He said that was my calling.

He was tired of following orders.
I understood that much.
I am tired of it too.
Having no other choice.

I was stupid.

Since the last one.
Smith had been locked up in his office.
There were men checking identities.
Stood in front of the access elevator.

West stayed at the elevator,
I went up saying I had information on the assassin.
I remembered the meeting room.
His office.

I silently ran through the times.

Two seconds for the elevator doors to open.
Fifteen to cross the hall.
Three to draw and shoot the bodyguards.
Thirty to stab Smith and escape into the elevator again.

The first thing I knew as the doors opened was a bullet grazing my left arm.
I will skip the blow by blow...
By the time Smith was dead,
my arm was bleeding and I had a gash along my side.

As I turned to leave.
Penny stood in the door.
The blur was there.
Right behind her.

I could not think straight.
Something burned inside me.
She stabbed my calf with a kitchen knife.
I broke her neck and then...

Then I woke up in the back seat of West's car.
I had been gone for thirty minutes.

Duckling.

The pain is back.
I have more to say though.
Another time.
We have to keep moving.

I suppose I should have known this would happen.

All phones disconnected.

All contact lost.

The loop.

The loop is gone.

Moved.

Lost.

Vanished.

Penny is dead.
I killed her.
West and I.
We will try and make contact with another cell.

London Bridge is falling dstopitstopitstopit

I am Ember Fay
I am injured and partially deaf right now.
West told me something important.
Something that I should have known.

All I wanted was to keep my friends safe.
I did not want to start this.
I need to talk to Tau.

I hope he made it out in time.

Duckie.
My Duckie.

I know you probably hate me.
But when you and I killed The Fat Controller,
I knew you, like we had met properly.
down falling down falling donotwishtothinkaboutit For the f1rst time that evening:

I will 3xplain everything.
I will.
I promise.

Fracture is a h0rrible person.

A Tutor

I visited Salome again a couple of days back.
The second time since I placed her urn.

There is a tradition in our Order.
You only visit a person twice.
Once when you place them there.
And again, once you have made something of yourself.

To show the dead that their sacrifice was not in vain.

And I have...
I have changed.

It is like I am half a person.
This other half wants to kill.
I do not.
I deeply do not.

I caught a glimpse of this side last New Year.
Salome had told me not to think, just act.
It was like my body knew what to do.
But soon it was not just my body.

It was like a part of me had been separated,
and I did not want to have it back.

But it helped.
This... Persona I could adopt.
It helped me kill.

Swan called the half Salome,
when he discovered it.

Peace.
Bringer of peace.
I did not like it,
it disrespected her.

But this other loved it.

I killed with him.
I hunted.
I cut that man so many times.

I hate it,
I hate it to the point that the house seems bearable.
But I am here...

Normally I can control it...
But what if I just decide to give up?
What if I allowed Duckie's Salome to become me?
Who would be the first to die?

The man who must die,

Or me?

I am about to do something I want.
To maybe save some lives.

Why am I scared?

A location.

Well, we found him.
We found Swan.
He looked half dead when I saw him,
all wrapped up in a suit.

I was so worried.
First the posts about him losing sleep...
He called me... A part of me anyway...
Salome.

Then he just vanished.
I tried to find him,
with the help of Firecracker.


She is a skilled tracker,
even if she wants to kill him.


We spent days looking for him
until we received a tip...
I do not know how they knew my number.
But it was accurate.

She beat me there
but she didn't hurt him...
I called West and we took him back.

He woke up again a day later.
Like he had not been sleeping.
Not since before he had vanished anyway...

I'm staying to make sure he will be okay.
Also West had calamari dumped on his head.

The Red One's Letter

Just so you know.
This post is on a timer.
I am currently on a search for Duckie and... Well.
I... I do not know why.

I suppose it was to say that if I was not back now,
West should probably panic 
or call me
or something.

A while back now.
I said I would type up Lucky's Letter.
I then promptly forgot about it
I do not know why, but I took the letters with me.

The letters I have left anyway.
Then I came across it, bloodstained.
There was no date upon this letter.
But I assume it is a couple of months after the last.

Maybe January or February, 1889. 
Those dates feel significant.
I do not know why.

Here it is: 

"Dear Ember Fay,

I want to tell you something, please, promise me you will not come and visit me. I also request that you do not call me worthy of Bedlam. What I am telling you is in the deepest confidence.

I saw a man the other day, a tall man, he was stood outside my window like a spectre, or a thief. When I looked to it, I stood, grasped my cane and moved to face him. "A common Thief. Or a joke taken too far!" I can hear you cry out. You remember my abode, a room above a bakers shop. They feel so safe with a Policeman in tenancy.

There was no ladder when I opened the window to observe his getaway.

I digress, he was <The words are too faded to read.>

This man, whoever he is, he knows about these murders. Or maybe he is the one perpetrating them. Please do not ask me how I know this, or why I do. I feel it from my own personal experience. I only see facts, the idea that he was something <Once again the words are too faded to read> 

It disturbs me deeply.

I will continue the interviews, but please do not expect me to draw blood from a stone, Spring Heeled Jack is incredibly elusive.

I have certain fears for my safety, especially if this man is the Gentleman I am looking for.

Liberté Égalité Fraternité

Jules Chénier"

Radio Silence

I never said how I came to work for this Order. Did I? Never had a mom or dad and was brought up by Tau. He said he was my godfather, but I thought he wanted to have me as his kid.

Then I wised up and realised he just wanted another killer to launch at people he disagreed with. So that's what I gave him.

A few weeks ago now, we were recieving guests. Swan, Ronan and the rapist. All was fine, and then another of our backers was dead. There was a funny joke with him. He called himself "The Controller." But he was so morbidly obese there was genuine fucking concern for doorways. From then on, a load of us killers called him "The Fat Controller." Like in that kids TV show about trains. I can't remember the damn name for the life of me.

He was found in his safehouse, his guards both shot and stabbed. He had been cut open like a pig on his bed. After that, Theta ordered us all to go dark. We got rid of our guests and sealed the loop. Theta would come down fairly regularly, let us know that we were all suspects, and vanish off upstairs. Though I'd guess that upper management disagreed with him...

I'd try and find out what it's about, but isn't my job to understand the upper management I guess. We should get going. Just another fucking job to do.

Isn't it always like that?

West

A Pocket Watch

It has been a long time since I looked at this blog.

Jessie, one of the team leaders, 

pointed out that perhaps I should talk
now that the blackout is over.

Talk about what has happened lately.

I will not tell you everything.

Too much has happened for one of these posts.

But I will tell you this:

I have been dreaming again.

The man I... 

The man I felt for.

I saw him die.

Walking with a man,

my handler, 

or maybe I am his.

There is more to it though.

I am smiling,

carrying a picnic basket in one hand.

We are in a park.

A group of children sing London Bridge.

I put my head against his shoulder,

I cannot stop smiling.

He seems distant though.

He seems scared.

He tells me he is moving away.

He tells me he is going to discuss things with Mother.

Discuss us and discuss what he found.

I ask him what it is.

He checks his watch

and he stares at me.

He says that we are late for a meeting.

We never have meetings together.

Not with others anyway.

We run for the trees.

Crack.

He falls.

London bridge is falling down.

Falling down.

Falling down.

London Bridge is falling down.

My.

Fair.

Lady.

Another one dead

Well. I said I'd cover for him.

Ember was spending time with Swan, shortly after truck tipping, burning and crashing another into it whilst filled with fireworks. It was most fun I've had in a while, but since Ember got that fucking bird, he's been really distressed.

Tau and I wanted him to keep out of the general hustle and bustle of this place for a while. I took over training and he's been working on building a killhouse on one of the unused floors. You know. Give teams guns or knives, let em at each other in confined spaces.

I recieved a call last night from another of our Backers. He said he was being stalked by someone. Ember's cell was turned off during his little playdate with Swan, so I responded by myself and met up with him in the restroom of a boarded up resteraunt. They all have code names, until they die anyway. I knew him as Scrooge.

His eyes lit up as he saw my face. He was shaken, asked where Ember was. Talking to him, we established he was being followed by some woman, he kept seeing "her" everywhere  Then Ember's creepy little stalker came in... Penny.

He was up on his feet like some scared little rat, keeping me between them. I noticed her "Daddy" wasn't here, or maybe I couldn't see him.

"What are you doing here Penny?"
There was muttering behind me. "It's her! Kill her, kill her."
She had this sweet, innocent smile. Content in her life as her Master's plaything. She tutted. "My fair lady, and I was just looking for you. Tiny Tim was easy to scare into calling you." She had a knife behind her back, judging by the way she held herself.

"You don't hate Ember, but you do not trust her either, do you?"
"Of course I don't hate the kid, but Ember is just so damn stupid sometimes with those morals."
"You don't have morals?" She sighed, tugging out the knife. "And I thought you were like Ember and Salome."

It was then that someone came bursting out from one of the stalls. She let out a scream as she was pulled by the hair. As her head hit the wooden door, she slumped to the ground, bleeding. He wasn't one of ours, no mask I could see, the oversized hood of his jacket covered all but his mouth, like the ghost of fucking christmas future or something. 5'7" or 5'8" perhaps. He had a gun.

"Run Scrooge run." He had a singsong voice, mocking him. Ignoring the terrified whimper at my back,  I drew my gun as he darted out of the restroom. Two shots, I reckon one grazed his leg, judging by the blood trail. But it was too dark to track him, plus Scrooge was with me. His safety was all I cared about at that point.

I escorted Scrooge home, stayed with him until he could get his own personal security with him, and went home. I wish it had helped.

They found Scrooge about ten minutes after I left with his throat slit. His four armed guards were still stood just around the building, two stationed outside his fucking bedroom door. I was called back to help clean up. Called in a team as well, the extra hands were useful in getting rid of evidence leading to us.

It was very early morning when I finally got back. Ember was in bed, painting the wall and pillow with his brains. He doesn't do it that often anymore, just when he needs to dream.

I need to get back to writing this full report rather than the little summary I did here. Times. Dates. Whatever is required. Theta's gonna be pissed at what happened to his eight year old, but I didn't do it so I guess I'll be fine.

For the record though, I do have morals. It's just that they are what Mother tells me they should be.

And Scrooge's full name was Timothy Cratchit, by the way. In case any of you care.

The Big Red One

Allow me to set the scene.
Flashing lights,
the thud thud thud of the bass
as bodies writhe on the dance floor.

A New York Nightclub.
As much as things have been delaying the search,
I am here to meet someone who knows of him.

Felix Felidae

I see an older man.
Early Forties I think, I could be wrong though.
Stands like a soldier, but weak.
As if he has not eaten in days.

He had sent me an email a little while back.
It had taken until now to get him comfortable enough to meet with me.

"So you decided to come?"
He speaks just loud enough for me to hear him.
"Are you armed?"
I tilt my head. "Of course not."

"If I were to search you, would I find anything?" He eyes me carefully.
Suspicion is everywhere, I should have more of it...
"A phone, a wallet, chewing gum and a piece of string.
Are you worried I am going to kill you?"

He frowns at me.
"Just look, we had a deal.
Just answer my questions about Stone,
and I will tell you about what I know."

"Want to go somewhere quieter?"

"Here is fine."
He has noticed I am uncomfortable.
Despite the noise he is eager to stay and chat.

"Why did you kill him?"
"I did not pull the trigger you know."
"But you may as well have." He seems agitated.

I ask him if he had killed anyone before.
Ask him to understand that I was under orders.
Salome only shot him because I was in danger.

"And your life is worth more than his?"
Shrugging, I look at my beer.
"Wasn't yours when you were in combat?"

"He was my SO during Desert Storm."
He supposes I am too young to know about it.

"He called me lucky, you know?
Took a round to the head.
The helmet stopped it.
Bullets curved around me, like the Matrix."

"Why do you do what you do?
and don't give me that Good Soldier bullshit.
We both know it's not true."

I look away. "It keeps me alive."
He starts "You know it is not the only way."
I almost punch him, but I stay quiet.

He finishes his beer and stands.
"That is all I wanted to know..." He turns to leave.
I stand, moving to stop him.
"What about the information?"

"I want to talk to the Ember that isn't only following orders.
He said you would be like that.
Holding yourself like a soldier when we both know you're nothing but a coward."

"You sicken me."

I let him leave.
I head outside soon after.
He is waiting for me a few blocks away from the office.
A parking lot.

He punches me in the face.
I pull the knife from my coat, my arm against his chest.
I shove him into a parked car.
I press the blade against his throat.

"Tell me what you know." I hiss.
He spits in my face.
I watch as a drop of blood runs down his throat.

I smile.

He gives me a curious expression, causing me to move away.
Just a couple of steps, I do not want to kill him, but I will.
He fishes in his pocket every motion slow,
I keep the knife ready.

"He came to see me. An old man named Felix. He told me to give you this."
He holds it out, a small carved wooden bird.

It sits in the palm of his hand easily,
the details make me
make me
nonononononolondonbridgeisfallingdown

I remember something.
It hurts.
I move to take the object.
He grabs my wrist and pulls me toward him.

It is all so fast.

I push the knife into his belly,
the curve of the blade forces the slice upwards.
I must have done it wrong,
I must have missed his heart.

He staggers back against the car again.
Surprise?
"He promised me an end." He whispers,
the pain is clear in his voice.

I try to make it faster.
Make it end faster.
I shove the sharp point into his neck,
pull back toward me.

Blood covers my black coat,
my face,
my hair
my hands.

I hold him close, shushing him softly.

When he stops breathing, I check his pockets.
I hear something crumpling.
A letter.
I will type it up when I have time.

"Lucky," I do not know your name.
But rest peacefully now.

Jack the Ripper

As you probably know,
West and I have been assigned together.
Sometimes, I want to punch him.
Sometimes I want to gut him...

That last post.
I believe I just fell quiet.
I remember blood.
I remember feeling betrayed by him.

London bridge is falling down.
Over and over again.

Anyway.
A while back, I...
I made a promise that I would copy these letters.
Brace yourselves.

"October 1st 1888

Dear Ember.

A double killing, an ear removed from a victim. Just like his letter said. I am sure you have already heard this by the time you read this...

I believe I detest this murderous madman already.

Of course I mean no offence to your own noble efforts in the aid of Mother. My quarrel is with the fact the papers have caught onto such a heinous crime, and such a horrific character. I lied to you when we first met. I knew you were a killer, I told you that I was as well. I have not been forced to use the revolver I bought when I first came to Whitechapel. I have never taken a life.

I have been reassigned to this case, which has allowed me time to look through the previous records of crimes relating to Fairy Fay and John Smith. What disgusts me is what poor records are kept of crimes, I understand the Metropolitan is stressed, but surely some form of order, chronological or alphabetical.

Nontheless, per your orders, I have retrieved files of other witnesses who mention either "The Gentleman" or "Spring Heeled Jack." It is truly shocking how often men and women will mention a gentleman, such a broad word. I have also cross referenced such files with missing persons reports of said witnesses or those who share their surnames.

A task which has taken a great deal of my time, I will have you know.

I enclose a list of names, each of which I shall follow upon.

Please visit again, my friend. I miss the sent of french parfum. Also, keep safe.

Liberté Égalité Fraternité

Jules Chénier

P.S If you are assigned our Ripper, perhaps you could turn him to me. He will surely receive the noose. Ensuring both my goals and your own."

I was wondering when Jack the Ripper would receive a mention... 

Also it seems like Past Ember's giving him orders?

Or is Mother?

I do not know. It is interesting to read though.

This one is undated.

"Ember Fay,

I believe I have ordered you to take time away from the man, that includes not opening any letters you believe to be his. I also know that on the night of October 10th, 1888. You visited him against our explicit orders.

I understand that it may be difficult to distinguish his handwriting, and I understand you find it difficult emotionally, due to certain attentions, but I would not like a soul such as yourself to receive the kind of punishment that men and women like yourself truly do not need.

You will find a knife enclosed, I hope it is to your liking, blades like this will be useful against the common blade, and provided you can evade their own stab, you can bring your mark down easily, stabbing upward through the belly and under their breast. The death will be quicker and more painless. I understand your issues with causing pain to people. Even considering how you comfort those who require it. It is kindness that drives you. Does it not, dear Ember?

As such I believe you will find your next mark particularly difficult. I was debating if I should send you upon this mission, you are so often better suited to killing men who fight back, Not a Lady with child, who's husband needs to understand that we take what we will.

I await confirmation of her demise.

Mother"

I received the knife I use now with the letter.

Swan has seen it, old, lightly curved.

It feels it, too. 


The handle has rough worn leather.

But it looks well looked after.

Maybe it is the same one Mother sent Past Ember.

We have a small job to do.

I do not really wish to talk to West.

The dying are much better conversationalists.

They understand how precious life is.