thomas walker (slowburned) wrote in shadowlands_ic, @ 2017-11-09 13:14:00 |
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Entry tags: | matthew averett, thomas walker |
Who: Matthew, Thomas and some constable npcs
What: Matthew has a very bad evening.
Where: Around Whitechapel and then the police station.
When: Sometime last week.
Rating: PG13 - Ripper mentions, vampire things and violence.
That apartment was getting to be a bit much. Matthew wasn’t one to have claustrophobia, but he was certain he was getting the affliction now. He paced the small rooms. He cleaned. He paced some more. He thought of eating a cat. He thought of going outside. He was, under no circumstances, suppose to go outside without Evelyn. There were too many people in this building, but the walls separated them from each other; outside, there were no walls. The thought of just going out and feeling the moon caress his skin was nice. So nice.
He could handle it. He was sure he could handle it. His control was getting better, wasn’t it. So he hesitantly made his way from apartment to the hallway. He stood there for twenty seconds before he put one foot in front of the other and made his way outside. Though he didn’t need to breath, he took a long breathe in and filled his lungs with the cool, London night air.
It all went rather well, him walking the streets and not coming across many people at all. He did his best to not breath after that first one he’d taken and when someone was coming his way, he crossed the street. He was doing it! But, and there is always a but, he hadn’t expected the prostitute on the docks. In fact, he hadn’t expected anyone on the docks this late. She came out of nowhere, swirling around a corner in a stench of cheap perfume, booze, and cigarette smoke.
“Aye, love!” The woman grinned and propped a hand on a hip. She was pretty, though ragged. Her blonde hair, which had probably started out in a elaborately coiffed style that morning, was falling apart, hair escaping from that which was to hold it in place. Her dress was well taken care of, but dirty around the edges. There were no gloves, either she hadn’t started with them, or she had misplaced them, her shoes, that which could be seen, were scuffed. It was those green eyes that did him in, however. The eyes were the greenest he had ever seen and seemed to hold him still.
“Be a gentleman, keep a lady warm t’night?”
“I shouldn’t,” Matthew said.
“C’mon, love! What’s a lady t’do? You wouldna leave poor ol’ me alone on the docks, will ya?” She took a few steps towards him and then faked a stumble, making Matthew react and catch her in his arms.
“Ma’am...are you alright?” He cleared his throat. “I was only out for a walk, I wasn’t looking for anything,” he explained.
“You might not have been, but you found me,” the woman grinned and then stretched her neck as if willing him to kiss her there.
Except, kissing her was the furthest thought from his mind. What he wanted, it was bite her, to drink her life force away and without his control his fangs extended and his eyes started to glow. The woman blinked once, then twice, and then screamed a piercing scream that not only hurt his ears but sent a jolt threw him. This was much better than hunting animals, the monster inside him screamed. Yes! Much better! He hefted the woman over his shoulder and started towards the darkened alley she seemed to have just came from - she screaming about the bloody Ripper.
Getting her into the alley, he stood her up against the brick wall and caught those mesmerizing green eyes and pushed his will on to hers. “Shhh… stop screaming. You want this. You will like this.” She stopped screaming and stopped fighting. Her grip went from pushing to pulling. His head lowered into her neck and he sniffed then licked at the exact point of where he would bite. His head lifted and he caught her green eyes again and pushed his will on her once more. “This won’t hurt. You’ll feel pleasure,” he suggested and then slowly started to descend on her neck.
There was a shout, a hue and cry, and a pounding of feet.
Two men, a constable and a burly dock-worker came running up, the dock-worker red-faced and shouting, “Oi, get off,” and pulling Matthew away before punching him in the face -- hard enough so his head bounced against the brick wall.
“What’s this all about, then?” The constable barked, his voice steely. “Madame, are you unharmed?”
The woman, the spell over her broken, looked around, confused. “I… I just… oh Cor,” she moaned, her eyes wide with fear and disgust as she looked at Matthew. “He…” she reached out with a trembling finger. “He’s the Ripper, I swear it!” She cried out, her voice thin and terrified.
Matthew growled when he was hit, his head making contact with the wall behind him. His nose bled, as did the small gash in the back of his head. It was his own blood, however, that brought him back to reality, that had him realizing what he’d almost done. His fangs went away and a blink or two and a shake of his head had his glowing eyes not glowing anymore.
“The Ripper? No!” Matthew said with earnest, looking back and forth between the men. “This woman asked me if I would be willing to keep her warm tonight, we were just having a bit of preemptive fun first.” It wasn’t the truth, of course, but it was close enough. He may have kept the woman warm for a few hours at least. God, what had he been about to do? He would have messed everything up, if it wasn’t already messed up. “I am not the Ripper,” he said, his accent thick now with the swollen nose. “I can be on my way, I hadn’t meant to frighten her.”
The woman burst into hysterical tears. “He… he dragged me in the alley, and his eyes… his teeth... he said it wouldn’t hurt. And I just… I was so afraid.”
“Well,” the constable said. “Looks like the lady disagrees about that ‘good time.’ C’mon, then, I have to take you in for questioning.” He looked over at the woman and man. “I’ll get your names, and send someone round to get a statement,” he added.
The constable clapped a hand on Matthew’s shoulder. “Right, boyo,” he said, “sooner we get this over with, sooner you can be on your way.”
Matthew didn’t know what to do. He could run, they’d never catch him, but they knew his face. He and Evelyn would have to leave. “I am not the Ripper,” he spat out and shook his head. A part of him wanted to just take the three of them out, he knew he had the strength and the quickness he could snap all three of their necks and leave them there. But that was the dark side of him, a side that if he let out he’d never be able to lock it away.
He let his shoulders slump when the constable clapped a hand on it and let his head hang. “Didn’t do anything wrong,” he shook his head again. “She was wanting a good time, I was going to oblige is all.” If he could play on the prostitution part of it all maybe they’d take it as just being in the wrong place, wrong time type of thing. “I know you know what she is..”
“There’s a killer on the loose, boyo,” the constable replied. “No hard feelin’s, but I gotta make sure you ain’t him, or I’ll never hear the end of it.”
Matthew was bustled down to the nearby station without much more ado, and after ‘cooling his heels’ for an hour or so, found himself in a small room with barred windows and a long table.
A detective was sitting on the other end, looking bored and tired.
“Right,” he drawled, flipping open his notepad and tapping it with his pencil. “Looks like from the statements of the eyewitness, the constable, and the victim, we could charge you with assault and soliciting easy, but I’m here on another matter.” He looked across the table, his eyes flinty. “Where were you in the early hours on September the 30th?”
Matthew was not happy. Of course, he knew he’d brought this on himself. He’d reacted and had had no control over what he was doing. If he made it out of this alive, he wasn’t going to venture out on his own again for a long time.
He sat and waited for a long time, his thoughts traveling to Evelyn and if she was frantic of where he was. He would not be bringing her name into this unless she somehow figured out where he was and showed up to get him out.
When he was finally given attention to, he sat back in his chair and watched the constable. “That was nearly a month ago,” he pointed out with a frown. “But I was home. That was around the time I was very ill and didn’t leave my apartment for over a week,” he answered. It wasn’t exactly a lie, he hadn’t been leaving the apartment without Evelyn there to be with him.
The inspector jotted down a note in his notepad. “Do you have any witnesses who can place you in your home during that time, and who would be willing to submit a sworn statement to that effect?” He asked, looking up at Matthew.
The victim, a woman who regularly had been taken in on charges of prostitution before, had given a wild sort of story about ‘glowing eyes’ and ‘sharp teeth,’ but the constable who’d taken the statement seemed to think her fear genuine enough -- and the laborer who’d called the law had heard her screaming.
“My neighbors, I’m sure. Mrs. Gregory knew of my sickness and brought over soup,” Matthew answered. “I’m not certain if she would do a sworn statement, we don’t know each other well. I haven’t lived in London long, I’ve only been here a little over a month or so,” he explained. He knew, though, that Mrs. Gregory would tell them of the woman that lived with him as well and holding back would not look good. “And Evelyn Geroux, she is my girlfriend and was with me, taking care of me,” he sighed. “I’d much rather not drag her through this if we can keep from it, not because I was with a prostitute, but because she was with me and I don’t want others to look down on her.”
“Hm,” the inspector replied, shortly. “I cannot guarantee that I won’t have to ask questions of both of them, but can keep the current charges out of the conversation… if you play nicely,” he added.
He tapped his pencil on the pad once more. “When did you move to London, and where was your previous residence? Can you supply the name and address of a landlord or neighbor who can confirm your residency?”
Matthew nodded. He would be as cooperative as he could. “I moved here from Belgium,” he explained. “It’s been nearly two months now that we’ve been here,” he continued. “I’ve not met the landlord of the lodging house but a few times, I think his name is Mr. Dunstan, or something to that effect. Miss. Geroux takes care of the payment for our rooms and we pay well in advance. We were waiting for me to get well again before we started looking for something more permanent here.”
The constable nodded. “I’ll need you to provide the name and address of your landlord in Belgium as well,” he said, sliding a piece of paper and pencil over to the young man.
“Now the young woman said something about teeth,” he added. “Did you threaten to… to bite the lady?”
Matthew looked at the paper and blinked. He didn’t reach for it, just looked at it as if weighing his decisions. If he gave the information, then he’d be looked at as a fraud and someone having stolen a dead man’s identity. If he didn’t, then it would look as if he were hiding something in which case he was. He had faked his death.
“I don’t see what my past residence has to do with what has happened tonight,” he looked up and wondered if he should will the man not to ask any more questions about his past.
At the mention of biting he chuckled. “Well, I suppose in a way I did. I asked her if she liked to be nibbled on. You know, like a man does to a woman nibbling along the jaw and neck and even the ear in a bit of foreplay. Which, must I point out, that the Ripper doesn’t bite or even nibble on his or her victims, do they?”
This was a shift, and the detective’s eyes narrowed at Matthew. It seemed the young man had something to hide.
“It gives you an alibi for the other murders, son,” he said, leaning forward in his chair. “Unless you were here all along, that is.”
“And it seems as though the lady was quite frightened,” he added, a little flatly. “She was screaming bloody murder, and I’d like to know why.”
It had been a rather unfortuitous night, when one of the detectives came to get Thomas from his usual rounds. He’d been all in a huff, ranting about how they had caught the Ripper. Some English bloke who was clearly up to no good with one of the ladies in an alley, giving him the whole spiel by the time that Thomas had gotten to his destination.
Since he’d been filled in on all the details, he wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting. Some brute of great strength, towering over everyone? No, just an average looking man with mousy brown hair. Thomas cleared his throat, or what was left of his throat and further entered, calling attention to himself so they knew he was there.
“So this is… the Ripper?” he asked, voice clearly strained through the mask. His voice was low and gravely and with clear pauses in between his words, as the hole in his throat tried to catch enough air in order for him to talk. It was all kind of a mess.
“Ah, Detective,” the constable replied, standing. “A word?”
Once the two were out in the hall, the constable handed over his notes thus far. “Put a scare into a dolly-mop,” he said, in a low tone. “Poor soul was screaming her head off. All ‘flashin’ eyes and pointy teeth’ and ‘made me feel all queer all over, like I was powerless to move,’ and while he may not be the man we’re lookin’ for, he got right dodgy when I started asking about past addresses, and claimed he’d been ill for a time. I dunno, there’s something not quite right about this bloke.”
He tipped his head. “You want to take ‘er over, be my guest.”
Following the other constable into the hall, he listened to the recounting of the story. Pointy teeth and screaming. Ah. Definitely not the Ripper then. Well he could be, he supposed but none of the victims had their blood drained so he seriously doubted it. He nodded his head seriously, looking like he was very interested and thought it was a serious implication. Of course Thomas' face always looked like that, because of the mask and his lack of facial expression.
"I'll give him the once over," he agreed with a nod of his head. "Why don't you go look... after the woman.. make sure she's taken home safely.. make sure you get all of her story.."
Leaving the constable, he headed back into the room with the vampire. "You always make a habit of attacking women at night?"
Matthew had eyed the newcomer warily. He smelled to be human, and apparently was a detective, nothing of which would help him with this situation he didn’t think. When the two men walked away to speak quietly, he listened. Vampire hearing was something great to have. He ran a hand wearily over his face as the incident was recounted. God he was in so much trouble.
When the detective entered the room again, he glanced up and sighed. “As I’ve told the constable, I didn’t attack. She offered herself, wanting to be kept warm for the night and I...was doing just that. I didn’t try to bite her, I don’t have pointy teeth and none of the other things she’s said,” he waved his hand in the air. “Maybe I was too rough and scared her…”My first time coming across a prostitute, and you can be assured it will be my last time.”
Thomas came a little closer, but kept enough distance that he’d be out of harm’s way if things were to take an ugly turn. He lowered his voice, which wasn’t hard to do. “I think you did try to bite her. But I don’t think you’re the Ripper.” And again he lowered his voice even further, so that it was barely a whisper, since he knew Matthew would be able to hear him.
“How long have you been a vampire, and have you heard of the Night Watch?” he asked, in that whispered tone. He didn’t think anyone was listening too carefully, but they all had human ears anyway.
“Yes, but as I told the other gentleman, only in fore…” Matthew’s words trailed off and an eyebrow rose. The detective didn’t think he was the Ripper? That was a change in things, but it was him asking him about being a vampire that really had caught his attention; that and the mention of the Night Watch.
His eyes shifted around, looking for as well as listening for anyone that could be near that would hear them. Then he met the eyes of the detective and weighed the answers he could give. He could give a lie, tell him he didn’t know what he was talking about, but if this gentleman was actually part of the Night Watch, but why was he working for the police? He was all sorts of confused.
“I’m not sure I know what you’re speaking of, Sir,” he whispered back, mostly because the detective had whispered. He needed proof of what this man was, and by all counts he was a human.
Not trusting the guy was probably a smart move. It was hard to admit anything in a society like this. Still this wasn’t a really good place to go hashing out details. The thing was that getting him out of here was going to be tricky, at the very best. He couldn’t just open the door and tell the other detectives that they were letting this guy go because it turned out that - what?
Thomas rubbed the side of his face, “Not the place to talk about it.. In here. But if you can tell me why I shouldn’t toss you into jail, for at the very least… attacking a woman, then you need to let me know. Now.”
He furrowed his brows above his eyes and looked at the man. No, this wasn’t the place to talk about it, if the man did know about his kind. With a sigh, he rubbed at his temple and shook his head. “How about we go on the path that prostitutes never want to get caught and that they can lie to take eyes off of them? That you can see that I don’t have glowing eyes nor do I have sharp teeth,” he opened his mouth to show his flat teeth, his fangs distinctly hidden. “Or, if you are what I suspect, then perhaps I am what you suspect.”
Reaching up, Thomas rubbed the top of his brow in frustration. He got it, he really did. This wasn’t making his job any easier though. He took a moment before reaching to grab a hold of Matthew and start taking him down the hallway, telling the detectives outside the door that he was going to take him down to the cells, to give him some time to think about it - see if he’d be willing to talk, if he was going to be sitting in jail for a while. He lead the way through the hallways, and down towards the cells.
“This is it. You got anything to say, you tell me now… Otherwise, you’re going in.” And he meant it. “You know if they think you’re the.. Ripper.. You’re going to do worse than hang.”
Well this wasn’t going as planned. He had assumed that the detective would understand that he was telling him that he was what he suspected, that he was a vampire, but apparently he didn’t pick up on that. He was pulled to his feet and then led through the station and down the hallways towards the cells.
He was sure that if he had a heartbeat that it would be beating furiously. He was going to tell what he was, and it would either make things better or make them worse; he didn’t know. “I’m only a few months old,” he spoke quietly, his eyes shifting around and his ears listening for anyone who could overhear. “My maker is at school and I was going stir crazy. I thought I would be okay, I was okay until she came close and propositioned me. I didn’t want to hurt her, but my control isn’t as strong as I thought it was. I can’t give them information in Belgium because my family and everyone things I am dead, had a funeral and all.”
Nope, he definitely hadn’t picked up on that. Well if he had, he just needed it to hear it plain out. Thomas wasn’t going to just read between the lines, and though he didn’t think so, he really did have to look at everyone as a possible suspect when it came to the Ripper. So when Matthew confessed, he looked relieved. A newbie baby vampire. He should have thought of that, he really should have.
Thomas finally nodded his head. “Okay. I believe you. When did you get into town?” he was going to at the very least make sure that they had actually been in Belgium when they said so. He wasn’t going to pry in the guy’s life. “Do you need to call your maker to come get you?”
The detective wasn’t freaking out. That was great. Real great. And it seemed as if he believed him. Even better. “Just a few months ago. Pretty much right after I turned. The night of my funeral, to be exact,” he said, giving a grim look. At the mention of his maker, he lifted an eyebrow. “You’ll let me go? Evelyn is going to be extremely angry,” he mused.
Very new then. That explained things. “Oh.” That was all he said after a moment. “I’ll let you go, but you can’t… walk home by yourself. So either I walk you home.. Or you call your maker. Do you have a .. phone in your home?” Some modern homes had them, and some didn’t. Otherwise Thomas was going to have to take him. He didn’t trust the guy not to bite someone on the way home. “Aren’t.. Vampires supposed to be able to… make someone forget when they bit them?”
Oh. That one uttered little word had Matthew wanting to laugh. Oh. Surprise, but not surprised. It amused him slightly. “No phone,” he shook his head. They hadn’t set one up and where they lived, well, it wasn’t something to have in those places. When they got a home, maybe… “I can push my will on others, I can have them forget, but I didn’t have time and I’m apparently not strong enough to do that or I would have done so with the constable and other man who came to the damsel in distress,” he explained. “From what I understand, it takes time to gain control over it,” he sighed. “What are you going to tell the constable?”
Definitely inexperienced. He didn’t know enough about how vampires worked to tell if the guy needed to be taught more, or whatever. Vampires weren’t his favorite thing, but Thomas could behave himself. He wasn’t the kind of guy who was going to stick a stake into anyone. “You should probably work on that,” was all he said with a shrug. Honestly he wasn’t sure what he was going to tell the constable. “Going to point him in another direction.. Make up a real alibi. You should find one, by the way. With proof you were somewhere else.” And not just someone else’s word for it, though that would help. He might have to talk with his sire. “Will your sire cover for you?”
Matthew did laugh then. “Trying to,” he said and shook his head. “It takes time, and isn’t something you get control of right away. And it takes practice, which means finding humans that I can compel,” he shrugged. “My sire will cover for me, sure,” he nodded. “She’ll be extremely mad that all of this happened, but lesson learned.” He was sure that Evelyn would have documentation of where he’d been at the times the Ripper had happened. They would be fake, of course, but the police wouldn’t know that.
Thomas cleared his throat. “I’ll take your word for it.” The whole vampire thing sounded really complicated, but then he supposed that being a banshee (or close to it) was any less complicated than this. Just with a different set of complications. Like knowing when all of your friends were going to die. Ghosts. All of that stuff. “Let’s get you home then, before we attract any more suspicion.” And before someone else saw them and demanded to know what they were doing. He lead the way out of the back of the building, before looking back towards Matthew. “Point the way, we can get a cab.”
Matthew wasn’t going to argue getting to go home. He followed Thomas out of the building and looked up at the night sky. “I’m just a few blocks away,” he explained. “We’re staying in a small room until we can get us a home and get settled,” he continued on as he looked for a cab. “Sorry that you had to get pulled into this, I really wasn’t out looking to do...I’ve been sticking to animals, not humans.”
Out of the building, Thomas got a cab pretty quickly and told the man where to take them once Matthew said where he lived. “You were lucky.. It was me.. And someone who knew.. What you were.. Otherwise you were probably about to be locked… up for the rest of your life.” And that wouldn’t be good. There weren’t a lot of other supernatural people on the force. “Say uh.. If you ever hear anything about the actual ripper.. From any of your kind.. You’ll let me know? It’s probably not a vampire but… we don’t have a lot to go on.”
“It’s not a vampire,” Matthew said, his voice low so the driver didn’t overhear. “I’ve read the articles, the victims are…” he trailed off. “I’d suggest looking at a werewolf, but I’d bet anything that it’s a human with mommy issues,” he lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “And by mommy issues, their mother was a prostitute.” Man, he should be a police officer, he thought, because that was a good guess on his part...then again, he had been reading a lot of books lately and some had to do with crime and the like. “But, if I do hear anything I’ll let you know. I owe you.”
Thomas couldn’t help but actually laugh. Yeah he was laughing. “I think you’re probably right,” he confessed. He thought it was a human. Despite all of the awful things, he still thought humans were much more horrible than any of the other supernatural creatures. And a lot of them had mommy issues. Just one that had some kind of time to necromancy maybe. Someone who was a witch but not practicing? Maybe they didn’t know he was a witch? Something like that. “Thanks.” Eventually the cab ride came to a stop. “They’re going to be watching you.. Try to .. stay out of trouble. But if you’re ever in it.. Contact me first. I’m with the Night Watch.”
Matthew looked at the building that housed the room that he shared with Evelyn. She was going to be so mad at him, he was sure, and he almost didn’t want to get out of the cab. “Thanks,” he looked at the other man. “I’ll be keeping myself out of trouble, promise,” he flashed a smile. “Until next time,” he then chuckled and stepped from the cab. Now it was time to face Evelyn.