895
The biggest question on my mind has been what Grendel’s doing here. Back when I was fighting against his revolution, I never came to this time period. There was never any need to; his activities were focused on other points in time. If he’d been up to something in 1888, one of the Fears would have let me know so I could have stopped him.
Seeing him here, as far as I was concerned, solved the Jack the Ripper case. Sure, it could be some angry Victorian with a grudge against prostitutes. Or it could be Grendel being the psychopathic lunatic he always is. I know what I was going to bet on.
I was a little conflicted about getting involved. After all, thus far I’d let Past Me deal with Grendel, while I handled my own problems. But I was still stuck here while I waited for the orb, and I knew for a fact that Past Me wasn’t going to stop whatever he was up to here.
Followed him for a while, hoping to catch him doing something I could thwart. But he seemed to be on his best behavior. All I ever saw him do was mingle amongst the aristocracy, and act out the role of the wealthy noble with no need for a day job. Sir Dorian Gardner seemed to be becoming quite popular amongst the upper crust of London.
I started to wonder if perhaps his behavior was because he knew I was following him. If I could feel his presence, I have no doubt he could feel mine.
As the date of the Ripper’s next murder drew near, I began to worry that my suspicions might be wrong. I tried to keep an eye out for anything unusual, but when the day came, instead of sulking about the dark corners of the city, Grendel attended a party at a large estate outside the city. Time was running out; I would have to directly confront him, and see what I could find out.
There was a manservant by the estate’s front door who tried telling me something about a servant’s entrance, but I shoved past him. The party was a very classy event. I might have enjoyed the scenery were the situation different. Grendel was at the center of attention, surrounded by laughing party guests who were holding on to his every word. I made a beeline for him, creating some disturbance in my wake as I pushed aside anyone in my way.
As he saw me draw near, Grendel said, “Ah, Elizabeth! Everyone, allow me to introduce my fiancée, Elizabeth Wells.”
Several of the guests did a bad job hiding their surprise. Woman who had an eye patch and who wear men’s suits do not usually become engaged to nobility, it seems. Didn’t know why Grendel was going for subterfuge, but I wasn’t going to have any of it. “The fuck are you doing here, Grendel.”
Grendel’s comment created masked surprise, my language created open reactions of shock. Grendel chuckled, and said to those around him, “You must excuse her. She’s American, you see.” And the way everyone reacted, it seemed as though that one sentence explained away all the oddities of my behavior to them.
I leaned forward and whispered to Grendel, “What would you do if I revealed what you are to everyone here?”
To which he whispered back, “Well, then you would leave me with no choice but to ruthlessly slaughter everyone in attendance.”
…. Hmph. Alright, so I wouldn’t shoot him in the face yet.
“Now, if you would be so kind as to excuse us,” Grendel said to the guests,” I wish to speak with my fiancée.” He offered me his arm. I glared at him until he lowered it, and started walking to the edge of the party, where I followed.
“You still haven’t answered my question. What are you doing here?”
“Can’t I just be sightseeing?”
“No.”
He laughed as if I’d told a joke. “And what about you? You don’t seem to be doing anything other than following me around. What brings you to 1888?”
“You know why I’m here. I’m looking for those orb things.”
Grendel began speaking louder, enough for others to hear. “Ah, you mean the mystical orbs left behind by the Great Old Ones? The orbs which can open gateways to other worlds?”
“Of course I mean those….” It suddenly hit me why he had been talking to loudly, and I groaned at the stupidity. “The letter I was following mentioned a party where the writer had overheard something about magical orbs. This is that party, isn’t it.” He nodded. “That is one of the dumbest time travel things I’ve ever experienced. Alright, so apparently you left this bait to draw me here. Why?”
“Because I’m preparing a present for you.”
Well that instantly made me suspicious. “What kind of present are we talking about?”
“You’ll see. On November 9th.”
That’s the date of the Ripper’s last murder. “So you are connected to the murders.”
“Oh yes. The Ripper and I are quite close. I believe you’ve met it before.”
“It?”
“Surely you remember it. Cheery fellow. Always with a big smile on its face. Took a significant amount of convincing to make it not leave flowers at all the crime scenes.”
Ah shit. The Smiling Man.
Grendel pulled out a pocket watch and checked the time. “It should be finished with one of the women by now. If you hurry, you might catch the second. Elizabeth, I believe her name is. Quite an amusing coincidence. Her death should be starting just… about… now.”
I immediately tried warping to the murder scene, but the Fear’s distortions threw me off, and I landed several blocks away. Started running the remaining distance. Along the rooftops I saw night gaunts, poised like gargoyles watching my progress.
Reached the scene, and kicked down the door. The Smiling Man was standing over a woman with her throat slashed open. It looked as if it was preparing to cut the body even more. Couldn’t have that. I swung my left arm at it, and the shadows writhed and tore apart the sleeve and glove I’d used to hide them. The punch connected, and tore off the Smiling Man’s head. It twitched for a moment, and then disintegrated into flower petals that were blown out the door.
Grendel stepped inside once the petals were gone. “Tut-tut darling.” He said. “Always so quick to anger. You know full well that won’t kill it.”
“No, but it definitely makes me feel better.”
“Of course it did. And now, if you would excuse me, I have a gift to wrap. See you next month.” Then he vanished.
No more waiting around. I’m going straight to November 9th, and finding out what Grendel’s doing here.
I-330
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