PART 10
The guards visibly tensed, metallic clinks emitted from the readying of swords and shields. Tyler’s mouth remained agape, utterly shocked by what his mother had just proposed.
“G-g-guards, detain my… detain my mother at once!”
The guards closest to Tyler looked at each other unsurely, then, with hesitant steps, moved to Mrs. Lacy. She stood up, putting her hands out willingly for shackles. She gravely turned to Jack. There was a mania in her eyes.
“If anyone can destroy this horrible place, it’s an outsider. How, I’ve tried, oh, how I’ve tried! I can’t get out. I come and go at random, with no rhyme or reason. I… I can’t live this way any longer. So, find a way, Jack. Find a way.”
After this proclamation, Tyler snapped his fingers, and the guards led Mrs. Lacy through a set of doors. Then, Tyler’s attention fell back upon Jack.
“Tell me, tutor. Do you intend to try and destroy this place?”
Jack thought for a moment. His head still wasn’t on straight after being bludgeoned. “Well, I won’t lie to you, Tyler. If I could, I probably would. I’d like to leave, and I don’t know any other way. With that being said, I have no idea how to go about something like that. Really I just don’t want to get hurt anymore.”
Tyler thought about this. As he did so, a striking realization hit Jack as hard as the pommel to the back of his head did. This is… still a first grader. Jack began to formulate a plan, running through possibilities of how to manipulate the child. Meanwhile, Tyler came to a decision.
“I’ve come to a decision,” he said. “For now, you will be detained under suspicion of treason. You haven’t done anything yet, but you did just tell me you would if you could… I don’t know, guards, is this the right charge?”
None of the guards moved an inch. Jack assumed it wasn’t exactly their area of expertise.
“Useless, all of you,” Tyler spat. “It’s decided. Guards, escort Mr. Ripper to the dungeon.”
Tyler stamped his foot on the ground, and the guards sprung to action. Jack was led down a series of dank hallways which progressed, of course, into the dungeon.
There was a time of darkness. How long, Jack couldn’t be sure, perhaps hours, perhaps days. There were no windows in this place, all he could do was count the guards’ shifts.
He’d become rather… acquainted with his cell. He’d studied each stone in each of the three walls, and the iron rods in front of him. He couldn’t figure how to escape from a place like this. For a day now, he’d lay on the dusty stone floor, and observed.
Unfortunately, this had been a largely fruitless pursuit. He’d learned the frequency of the guards’ shifts, and he’d learned of three different species of roaches in the dungeon, but beyond this, all he’d learned was exactly how thirsty he could become. There was a gentle drip of water from the corner of his cell, and while he was certain of its filth, it called to him nonetheless.
Jack imagined a glass of water. The image became more vivid, rivulets of condensation dripping down. He felt an intense discomfort starting from his parched mouth and pervading to the rest of his body.
Suddenly the image hit him. His dogs, stretched out and skinned on that bed. How quickly one image had turned to another. He felt a sense of fear grip his heart and refuse to let go. Tears began to well in the boy’s eyes, and after a time, they fell down his freckled cheeks.
Jack wasn’t sure how much time passed from that moment to the next guard’s shift change. He’d sunk deeper, deeper into his own despair, finding nothing to serve as a distraction. At least, until he realized that another guard hadn’t come to take his place. Minutes, perhaps an hour passed after the guard departed, and Jack remained in his cell block alone. Then, he heard footsteps. Not the clinking, heavy footsteps of a guard, rather the footsteps of someone lighter.
Has Tyler come to apologize? Jack thought, wishfully. Instead, Jack was greeted by the sight of a disheveled, dusty Mrs. Lacy.
She’d changed from her royal clothes to clothing made of rough cloth, Jack surmised that she’d undergone similar treatment to him. She looked around in the dark room, then her eyes met Jack’s.
“There you are. Look, I don’t have time to explain, but we need to do something, and we need to do it now.”
“I-I… what are you doing here?” His words were pained and cracked from dehydration.
“Didn’t I just tell you?” Mrs. Lacy said, “I don’t have time to explain. I’ll tell you the essentials, then you’re off. Do you understand?”
Jack stared at her blankly for a moment, trying to decide if he was hallucinating this.
“I understand,” the boy squeaked.
“Good. I’m out because fortunately, I still have people I trust in this place. They arranged an escape opportunity, and I’ve used it to free you, of all people. What I said was true, if anyone can destroy this world, it’s you. Do you understand?”
“No. But I guess you know better than me.”
“Now you’re getting it. You see? Questions just slow us down. Here,” Mrs. Lacy said, handing Jack a small object wrapped in dirty cloth. “It’s for you.”
As Jack unwrapped it, Mrs. Lacy produced a key, unlocking Jack’s cell. She swung open the door just in time for Jack to raise his gaze.
“What… what do you want me to do with this?” Jack asked angrily.
“This place, it’s strange, Jack. I think… I think there’s a possibility it’s all my fault.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Remember what I said about questions?” Mrs. Lacy said. Then, she reconsidered. “Look, I’ve been thinking. I’ve been thinking farther back than just my first time at this place. Just, erm, trying to recall.”
“You have to explain this to me in clearer words, Mrs. Lacy. I don’t understand.”
“I… I don’t remember my wedding day.”
Jack took a step back.
“Um… what?”
“I just have no recollection. I was retracing my steps, going as far back as I could remember, and I realized that I was just assuming my relationship with my husband.”
“Assuming? What, you just didn’t think about it?”
“Jack, in a dream, we don’t think about how we got into whatever situation we’ve found ourselves in. We just… assume. It’s the same sort of thing, I think. I can’t remember a single date, where I met him, anything.” Her voice broke. “I don’t even know the man’s name.” She shook her head. “What am I saying, I’m sorry… it’s the lack of sleep, you know? Anyway, you need to go. I was only able to pull so many strings, that guard will be back soon enough. I don’t know what you should do. If I did, I’d go with you. For now, I just need to get back to my cell. Maybe I can buy you a little more time, I’ll think of something.”
She took one last look at Jack, then turned and walked away. Jack was left with more questions than ever before. All he could do was search for answers.
The boy found himself back in the empty throne room. After hiding in various guest rooms, kitchens, and servants’ quarters, Jack had come up with a plan. Perhaps less of a plan, and more of a decision. He’d ran Mrs. Lacy’s mutterings over again and again. He found an iron statue of Tyler and took refuge hiding behind it.
He waited an hour or so before the royal procession entered. Notably, there was now only one chair behind the throne, where now Mr. Lacy took a seat wordlessly. Tyler hopped onto his throne, resting his head on his hand.
“Alright, guards,” the first grader said, “bring in the first prisoner.”
It was time. As the guards in the back of the room went to fetch Tyler’s next victim, Jack sprinted out from behind the statue. Tyler turned to him, not recognizing him initially. The dirt and grime smudged over Jack’s face rendered him a stranger. He readied the knife Mrs. Lacy had given him. As Jack sprinted toward Tyler, knife raised, both guards flanking the throne stepped in front of him, protecting the king. Jack swerved out of the way. He continued his sprint, bounding toward the throne.
The boy felt a pull from behind him, one of the guards had tripped Jack with the tip of his blade, the edge striking Jack’s shin. He felt blood spurt from the wound, and he began to fall, just feet from Tyler, feet also from the tall and expressionless man seated next to him. Jack switched his grip, holding the knife by its blade, and desperately heaved it.
The blade spun, rotating through the air in what felt to Jack like slow motion. Jack had never thrown a knife before, it was going to be complete and total luck which decided which end struck the man.
The knife took one last rotation, then lodged itself by the tip firmly in Mr. Lacy’s eye socket. There was no blood.
Tyler screamed out. The guards pulled Jack up by the back of his shirt, raising their swords to impale him. Then, it was over.
The Lacy household was nice and cool. Jack lay sprawled on the living room floor. He looked behind him and saw Tyler watching TV on the giant leather couch. A show about knights, lords, and ladies.
Jack looked back to where he’d just impaled Mr. Lacy, and saw nothing but a large, brown rat. The creature stared at Jack for a few moments, tilting its head. Then it turned, running around a corner.
Jack reached to his shin frantically. No blood, no injury. It was as though he’d never been cut. He stood, shakily bringing himself to his feet. Tyler turned to him.
“Are you awake, Mr. Jack? You just fell asleep right there, I didn’t want to wake you. If you want to get paid for my session, you should probably talk with my mom.”
The child then turned back to the television, and took another pretzel stick from his bowl. Jack’s heartbeat hadn’t settled, perhaps the only evidence of his experience other than his memories. He nodded, and walked to the stairs. The butler showed Jack to Mrs. Lacy’s study, and Jack knocked on the door.
“Come in,” he heard Mrs. Lacy command from the other side. The confidence in her voice had returned in full force.
Jack opened the door slowly, and cautiously shot a glance at Mrs. Lacy, as if to say, are you thinking what I’m thinking? Mrs. Lacy popped a piece of chewing gum into her mouth. She chewed for a few moments, then stood up.
“Yes, I remember it all. Every last bit of it. You and I are not to speak of it, and if you’d like that tree to remain standing, you’ll never say a word of this to anyone. Please, leave my house now. I’ll see to it that my end of the bargain is fulfilled. If you’d like, send me an invoice for furniture, and I’ll have it built for free out in the forest.”
Mrs. Lacy stared blankly at her desk, as if racking her brain thinking of anything else she may want to convey, then shook her head.
“That’s it, Jack. you can leave.”
“O-Okay. Thank you. And… and I’m sorry about your husband.”
Jack raised his eyes to see Mrs. Lacy glaring at him. Her expression could kill in itself. She began to frown, not in anger, but confusion.
“My… my husband?”
Jack took one horrified step back, then another. He turned and sprinted out of the Lacy household. He heard the butler yell something at him as he left.
*****
Toby pedaled as quickly as he could back to his lair. There wasn’t a moment to waste, when he’d left the attic previously, the trio had been on the verge of something brilliant. He was sure he’d return to some sort of a breakthrough. His excitement distracted him just enough to miss that the vent was missing a couple screws. He scrambled up, reaching the top, then nearly jumped through the opening into the attic.
“What did we find, boys-”
Toby went silent.
A man in a striped silver tie turned to Toby, quickly removing his knife from Buzzcut’s sternum. He began to move toward Toby, when a woman kneeling on the floor nearby raised an arm, pointing to Toby.
“This one lives,” she said, “he shouldn’t be here, but he lives.” As she stood, Toby saw what she’d been examining. The bloody, pale corpse of Ponytail. Like Buzzcut, he’d been impaled in his gut, and left in a pool of his own blood.
The woman turned to Toby.
“We’re done here.” she said.
Then, they were gone. Where they’d stood, was nothing. The room was empty, save for Toby. He looked back to Buzzcut, hoping to save him, but the corpse was absent. Ponytail, along with the blood he’d spilled, had vanished. Toby looked left to right, trying to make sense of any of it. Like his companions, anything even faintly resembling an explanation was also missing.
Toby screamed louder than he’d ever thought possible as tears fell to the floor. The sound wrenched its way out from a place inside of him that he wished he’d never discovered.
There was no one left to hear him.
*****
Ace checked the address she’d written in her notebook with the number spray-painted onto the curb. It had been troublesome to track down this information, but while her father was retrieving the file she’d requested, it was all she could do. She headed down the concrete walkway which split two well kept patches of grass. Taking a look inside a window, she firmly knocked on the door.
As she ran back through her notes, she heard a set of footsteps approaching. A woman in her early thirties opened the door.
“Hello, you must be Stacy- ah, Ace, is that right?”
“Sure am. Thank you for inviting me over, it’s very nice of you. Because of… well, who I am, people can sometimes avoid me, you know?”
“Oh, please don’t worry about that at all,” the woman said with a gentle smile.
The woman stepped back from the doorway, inviting Ace in. She nodded politely, and stepped inside.
“Have a seat here, please. I’ll go fetch him.”
Ace flashed her a grateful smile, then took a seat at a dining room table. She opened her notebook once again, flipping through the pages. She heard a set of footsteps approach her, along with the click of a dog’s feet as it followed the footsteps. A tall, thin boy took a seat across from Ace, and the dog, wagging its tail, jumped onto a nearby couch, observing.
“I’m sorry, I’ve asked around a bit, so I know who you are…” the boy said, “but I’m not too sure why you want to speak with me.”
Ace snidely chuckled. “Well kid, it’s because you can help me out with a case. A big one. But I might need to ask you some, uh, tough questions.”
“Fine with me.”
“Great. Well then, nice to meet you, I’m Stacy Rawlings, but you can call me Ace,” she said, extending her hand. The boy smiled and reached out with his own. The two exchanged a firm handshake.
“Nice to meet you. My name is Jack. Uh… Jack the Ripper.”
Odds and Ends 
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