Rip Me to Pieces

Click. Click. Click. Firm, black heels slapped at the dirty, rough wood of the apartment floor as she bustled around the room, simultaneously pulling up a pair of dark stockings. Her pale legs were quickly entrapped by the sheer material as she made her way to a mirror, caking on bright powder along her cheek bones.

“You shouldn’t go.” A voice called from the corner of the cramped room.

“I’ve told you before; it’s my body and my life. I’ll do as I must.” The woman frowned.

Shaky hands reached up and attempted to pull her sable tresses into a loose fashion.

Her blonde companion sighed, stepping up behind her, “Here let me.”

The dark haired woman complied, her thin arms falling to her sides as she sat nervously on the old, rickety chair she owned. Quickly, skillful hands slipped themselves into her thick mane, expertly twisting the strands and managing to pin them up loosely. Her blue eyes glanced up from her work every once in a while to stare at the female seated before her.

“Do not look at me like that.”

Her frown deepened, “Korra—”

“I said: do not look at me like that. If you cannot do me the decency of that, Ivy, then please excuse yourself from my presence.” The brunette said.

She stared at Korra’s reflection in the mirror and surrendered, disapproval still clearly painted across her face, “…I’m sorry.”

Korra nodded gratefully and stood, walking over to her bed and lifting the slip of fabric that lay upon its faded covers.

“Now if you would please help me into this bloody thing?”

Ivy snickered at her long-time friend’s expression, “Love, keep up that wretched expression and your face just might remain that way.”

***

“Stop!”

“Almost done!”

“No more!”

“Just…one…more…LACE!”

With a great heave, and a grunt on Korra’s part, Ivy tugged at the last set of laces on her companion’s dress and knotted them tightly.

“Finished.” She smiled as she stepped back.

“I can’t…bloody…breathe!” Korra wheezed, out of breathe as she leaned against her rusted bronze bedpost.

Ivy smirked, amused, “Oh quit you whiny chavy; it is only a dress.”

“Only a dress? This dreadful thing is suffocating me!” the poor dollymop complained.

The older woman snickered, “The job requires it, love. According to those foul coves, the tighter, the better.”

The shorter of the two grimaced as she stood straighter, taking shallow breathes and adjusting the hem of her short dress.

“Can this blasted thing get any shorter?” sarcasm dripped from her words, a scowl taking purchase on her elegant face.

Ivy slapped the fidgeting hands away from the edges of the revealing dress, scolding her friend, “Leave it alone or you’ll pull out the threads. Now hurry up, your shift will start soon.”

Korra looked up nervously at the stern woman and nodded, stepping around her to get to the door.

Clunk. Clunk. Clunk. Her steps were so much louder to her now, so much heavier, as if she was weighed down by an invisible weight. It was finally time—her first night on the job.

“Korra,” her friend’s worry broke through her thoughts, “are you absolutely certain about this?”

The woman, feeling so much like a child now, stood by the door, doubt chaining her to the floor. Was she sure about this?

“You don’t have to do this. It’s dangerous—he might be out there. You know what he does to women like us; you never know when he will strike next, or who will be his next target! Please…stay,” Korra paused, shaking at the words, “Besides, this isn’t something easily forgotten. It is not something you will be proud of...”

Korra could practically feel the ‘I should know’ hanging silently in the air, her blonde friend reluctant to say it out loud. Of course she would know; Ivy was in the exact same position as her all those years ago.

“I will get you the money if need be. Just pay me back whenever, or don’t, I don’t care.”

That did it. The brunette’s timid form visibly froze and straightened. Shoulders squared, and lips pressed tightly together, she grabbed at the doorknob and twisted it.

“I’m going to be late. Do not bother waiting for me.”

***

Outside, the wind howled lowly, causing goose bumps to pebble across her faultless skin. Wrapping her arms around her lithe body, Korra made her way down the barren street, glancing at the few people that loitered around and those that hurried down dimly lit sidewalks on their way home. She shivered as she looked around like a flighty fawn, alert and watchful. She wasn’t sure anymore if her tremors were from the biting breeze lightly raking her pebbled skin, or the nagging feeling that coiled deep within her gut, urging her to turn around and burrow under the ragged covers of her bed.

“Stop it, you are being utterly ridiculous,” she hissed quietly to herself, “You require the money, and this is the only way to get it—Ivy’s words be damned.”

Her fingers tightened their grip on her arms, nails digging into the skin lightly, leaving thin crescents sprinkled about. A soft sigh escaped her cherry painted lips as she turned onto the street where her post was situated.

“Well, well, well, look what we have here.”

Korra scowled, ignoring the voice as she sped up. Before she could blink, a hand shot out and snatched her arm up, abruptly stopping the sable-haired woman in her steps.

“Do not ignore me, you filthy swine!” the voice snarled, fingers digging into Korra’s arm.

Korra turned swiftly, ripping herself away from the harsh grip, and stepped back to glare at the offender. Her eyes narrowed at the female who stood before her. Scarlet tresses moved in the wind like living flames as a black-gloved hand rose to brush the strands away from a pair of hazel eyes, tucking them beneath a green-feathered top hat. Her olive skin, bathed in a silky jade dress with dark accents, seemed darker under even the lamplight about them.

“Pardon me,” Korra spat, words dripping with pseudo-courtesy, “but I do not believe you have much room to talk, Cecilia.” She hissed out the name as if it was the vilest substance on the Earth.

Cecilia glared, her eyes burning with fury, “You…you bloody…TWAT!”

Korra smirked, “Now, now Cecilia, language as foul as that isn’t very lady-like now is it? I thought we were above things as petty as juvenile slights.”

The red-head glowered, eyes shooting daggers at the brunette. Korra grinned victoriously and waggled her fingers at the fuming older woman, her maroon dress flaring out slightly at the bottom as she spun around to strut away.

***

After a few minutes of silently walking along the dimly lit street, Korra almost regretted leaving Cecilia’s presence. Almost.

‘Urgh! That blasted buor is one of the most arrogant and insufferable people to walk the face of this planet!’ Korra complained, her thoughts rampant.

Finally, she reached her “track” and stood under the dull glow of the streetlight. People passed her every few minutes, glancing at her with distaste. Sighing and pulling lightly on the hem of her skimpy corset dress, she glanced about desperately in search of customers. Anyone would do. As long as they had the money she needed.

“Whoa!”

Startled by the yell, Korra jumped back as a carriage skated past her swiftly, the wheels scraping against the spot she was standing at only a moment before. A pair of dark horses dragged it along, jostling the coach slightly as they skipped down the gravel road nervously. Korra watched their long tails flicking wildly as clouds of vapor blew from their flared nostrils in the chilling night air, the driver being the only thing keeping them from bolting. She stared as the steeds pulled the carriage away until it was just a speck at the end of the dark gravel street, the horses’ whinnies echoing eerily into the night.

‘What could have startled them so badly?’ the brunette wondered.

“By the gods, what a stroke of luck I must have to stumble upon a beauty such as yourself.”

Korra started, spinning around in surprise and stumbling back slightly as a large man towered over her, a smirk pulling at his lips.

“O-oh, is there something you would like, sir?” she questioned nervously, trying to get her heart rate back in order.

The man chuckled, shadows playing across his rough features and obscuring his face as he raised a hand to his top hat, pulling it down a bit more. A pair of scuffed shoes and dark trousers peeked out from under an equally dark tailcoat, whereas his hands were swathed in smooth, white gloves.

“I thought it’d be fairly obvious what my being here calls for, love.” The man pointed out, amused.

Korra reddened, embarrassed by her silly question, ‘You dunce! Of course he’s here for that!’

A knowing look spread across the man’s face, “I see you are still new to this. I assure you I will be the perfect gentleman, love. No need to worry. May I be so bold as to buy your company and get us away from these biting winds? Skin as flawless as yours should not be marred by such harsh weather.”

The sable-haired dollymop flushed prettily, charmed by the man’s words.

“Why yes you may, I hope my price is not too steep.” She took the man’s offered hand as he led her down the street.

“Of course not, love, I’d relinquish my entire fortune for but one night with a beauty such as yourself.” His thin lips curled up into a charming smile as he allowed her dainty hand to curl itself around his arm, her form pressing gently against his side.

Korra looked down, flattered. Looking up at her shrouded customer, she frowned. Customer—such an unpleasant reference. No, he was more of an…employer. Yes, that was more appropriate. Even if it was only to make herself feel better.

“Everything alright?” his voice filtered through her thoughts, bringing her back to reality.

“Y-yes! Yes, of course. I…was just curious. Where are you leading me?” her brown eyes gazed questioningly at him.

He glanced down at her pale face, smiling, “My abode, love. Only the best for a lady of your excellence.”

***

Turning onto yet another street, the man pulled her lightly toward an alleyway. Korra quickly became skittish.

“Please, is there another way? I’d rather not take those filthy alleyways.”

He turned to her, watching as she anxiously looked around while trying to appear calm. Sighing, he tightened his hold on her hand in an attempt to reassure her, “Love, it will be fine. I know these paths like the backside of my hand. Besides, if not for these alleyways, our walk would be that much longer. I would hate to force my lovely company to amble about more than she has to.”

Once more, the nervous woman looked around as discreetly as possible. Finding the logic behind her employer’s words, she finally gave in, nodding her consent.

Click. Click. Click.

Their steps echoed off the gravel and stone street below their feet as they walked silently. She tightened her grip on the man’s arm as they entered the darkness of the alleyway.

Click. Click. Click.

She concentrated on their footsteps, trying to ignore the eeriness of the filthy, decrepit passageway. Just a little farther and they would be out of the cramped space.

Click. Click. Cli—

Suddenly, she was pulled back, mid-stride, just as they were inches from escaping the darkness. Her heels scraped against the ground as she stumbled back into a firm chest, panicked. The breath in her lungs caught as a large, gloved hand clamped a damp cloth over her mouth and nose, the smell pungent, making her head spin.

A dark chuckle echoed.

“Sleep, dear lady. Just…sleep.” The man’s voice murmured by her ear, his whispers ominous as they faded on the wind.

Eyes slowly drooping, her vision foggy and mind just as muddled, Korra struggled and twisted, kicking back at her captor.

A growl raked against her ear as he hissed, irritated, “Sleep now or meet my blade awake and aware you bloody toffer!”

Korra’s eyes widened as she held her breath, refusing to breathe in the sharp fumes coming from the cloth. Terror raced through every fiber of her being, her struggling becoming more erratic by the second, fighting against the sluggish feeling growing within her, the chemical from the rag slipping into her body as she was forced to take tiny breaths every now and then.

“No use. No use,” the man laughed darkly, “You’re mine, dear maiden. All mine.”

Her struggles slowly halted as she sagged tiredly against the shrouded man. Not wanting to fade away just yet, Korra fought to keep her eyes open, her ears ringing with the man’s cackles.

“Korra? Is that you, you bloody wanker?”

The man started at the voice, frowning as someone approached him and his victim. With great effort, the limp woman raised her eyes to the approaching savior. The man behind her snarled as their eyes took in the image of an annoyed Cecilia. She noticed his hold had slackened the slightest bit due to Cecilia’s unexpected intrusion and she quickly mustered up all the strength her weakening form would allow.

“Who in the bloody hell is that oaf?” Cecilia sneered.

The man glared daggers at the red-head, his anger escalating.

“Maybe you will be first wench!” he spit out, sliding his eyes towards his waist, a knife clearly visible as he pulled his tailcoat open, the metal glinting even in the darkness of the alley.

Cecilia’s eyes widened as she took in the danger of the situation.

SLAM!

Korra used all her strength to kick the man in the shin, her arm swinging back to elbow him in the ribs as well. He cried out, doubling over to grab at his abused midsection. The brunette stumbled out of his grasp, leaning on the grimy brick wall of the alley to breathe, forcing back the fogginess in her mind. A bitter chuckle escaped the male as he remained bent over. His body shook lightly until he convulsed with the force of his disturbing hoots and cackles. Distressed, Korra ran, staggering slightly as she passed Cecilia.

“Come on!” she called out to the woman garbed in green and black, her brown eyes urging her enemy to follow her.

Cecilia remained frozen and Korra wasted no time in leaving her behind, her fear overpowering her.

***

Running. She was running now. Her corset dress constricted her chest and she struggled to take proper breaths but she didn’t dare stop, or look back.

A scream. Laughter.

Korra gasped, hating herself, ‘Cecilia…’

No matter how much she despised the harlot, she’d never wish death upon her.

“I’m coming for you now my dear lady!” a deep voice echoed through the deserted streets loudly.

The woman cursed. That’s where the man was leading her! He took her to the most deserted part of town. It was almost completely abandoned. Mid-run, she reached down and unstrapped her heels one by one, dropping them carelessly as she picked up speed, finally rid of the damned things. Turning down another barren street, Korra aimed toward a more populated part of town.

“Sleep, sleep, my fine beauty. For when I find you, I shall rip you. And slice you. And I shall watch as you bleed blood like gossamer,” he seemed closer now, his voice louder, eager, “Oh how I wonder. What would it feel like? What would it feel like to let that sweet, pale flesh of yours stroke along my trusty blade?”

Suddenly, the glinting silver of a blade cut through the air, catching on her exposed thigh. She yelled out in pain, striking the man in the face in her haste to get away from the scorching pain. He faltered slightly, clutching his face.

Wounded and afraid, she took off into the night yet again, barely registering where she was headed. Large, terraced homes passed through her vision vaguely. Slate roofs, bay windows, and stone details were nothing to her now as she sprinted down dimly lit streets, her feet stinging as stones embedded themselves into her cuts and scrapes. Breathing erratic, she ducked into the nearest alleyway, sliding down the brick wall.

‘Just a moment’s rest. That is all I need.’ She told herself, eyes darting to and fro.

“Now, now, we aren't hiding are we?” Korra froze, he was near, “Where oh where has my little sweet gone?”

Frantic, she looked at her surroundings, strands of hair that had slipped from her bun falling into her eyes. Her dainty hands, now dirtied with blood and grime, swept along the filthy alley ground as she searched from something, anything, that could help her.

“Ouch!” she hissed, pulling her hand back to see a line of blood escaping her thumb.

She reached out once again, now more carefully, and gripped a large, jagged piece of russet glass—the remains of a broken bottle.

“Show your sweet face, my love, and take my hand into the night. I’ll show you where true fear lies, where the weak die beneath my feet and the strong beg for mercy in the moonlight of every week. Take my hand and I’ll show you something sweet, something rare, something that will dazzle you, sweet love. The polish of my knife slicing through your pelt. You’ll hear the screams of every past stab; from shocks to tears to shouts and cries. I’ve had ‘em all! Name the price! Not one young maiden has broke from the hands of Jack!”

Breathing heavily, but trying to keep quiet all the same, Korra waited, body tense. The crazed man continuously spewed out spine-chilling words as she listened carefully. His footsteps echoed along the empty street as she forced herself to still her shivering and tuned out his threatening words.

Click. Click. Click. Click.

She gripped the glass harder, almost breaking through skin.

Click. Click. Click. Click.

Holding her breath as the steps neared her hiding spot, she rose quietly to her haunches, body poised to strike.

Click. Click. Click.

“Little lamb, don’t you want to play? Come out and dance for me, love. Sing for ‘ol Jack as he pulls his blade through your fair skin.”

And with that she struck.

As soon as his leg appeared before her, body still hidden behind the corner of the wall, she launched her arm in an arc, the glass cutting through the air and digging deeply into a muscled thigh. With a twist of the glass, Korra shot to her feet and darted out of the alley, ignoring the man’s pained yell as he dropped to the ground.

“You bloody toffer! I will make your death that much slower!” he called after her furiously.

***

Korra ran…and ran…and ran. Her muscles burned as she passed houses upon houses, making her way to the more populated part of town. Carriages rolled past her carrying heavily dressed women, clearly those of high society. The women fanned themselves with fans of lace and feather as they glanced haughtily at her grubby form. She felt naked as her brown eyes landed on their long, full dresses, so much more extravagant than her skimpy, tattered dress. Curious glances landed upon her frantic form as she raced down the streets, weaving through the few women and men that walked along.

Finally, she allowed a watery smile to reach her ashen face as she spotted a familiar house and bolted towards it. Her knocking on the heavy, wooden door was frantic and loud as she swiveled her head around, searching madly for any sign of the deranged man that had attacked her. Soon enough, footsteps were heard from beyond the door. She heard a muffled voice call out, asking her to wait a moment.

Tears welled up in her frightened chocolate orbs and her heart soared at the prospect of warmth and safety. Her hands reached up and quickly tended to the monstrosity that was her hair at the moment. Suddenly, the door opened and a tired form stood before her, yawning.

“Yes? Is there something I can do for you?”

Korra dropped to her knees then and there as she begged the man before her to allow her entrance into his home.

“Korra! Korra, what happened to you child? Anne, come down here, it’s Korra!” the man dropped down to pull the sobbing woman into his chest, carrying her into his home and kicking the door closed.

***

Half an hour later, Korra found herself wrapped in a quilt and seated on a soft couch, curled into another woman’s side.

“Oh lord, what have you gotten yourself into child?” The woman named Anne questioned, hugging Korra tightly.

In that half hour Korra had explained her situation to Anne and her husband Benjamin, crying loudly as they tried to console her. The two had been friends of her parents before their passing and had always been there for her and Ivy, taking the role of a loving uncle and aunt to both females.

“Korra, we need to get you to the authorities soon. That man was no ordinary man. That there was Jack the Ripper.” Benjamin explained.

Korra’s eyes widened. Her first job as a ladybird and Jack the Ripper sets his eyes on her? Ivy was right, she shouldn’t have gone out in the first place.

‘Ivy has always been right before. What in the world was I thinking?...Wait…IVY!’ Korra jumped up in a flash, worry overtaking her.

“Korra? What’s wrong dear?” Anne’s soft voice questioned, her hand resting on Korra’s shoulder as she stood as well.

“Ivy, she’s all alone at home. I must get back to her immediately.” She replied, ignoring the shouts of the young couple as she slipped out of the house and cautiously dashed towards her own home.

***

Bam. Bam. Bam.

Ivy started as she looked up from the book she had been reading and glanced towards the front door. Heavy knocks sounded from the door as she slipped out of bed and walked out of the bedroom.

“Korra, you’re such a child sometimes. To this day, I do not understand how you fail to remember your key each and every time you leave the house.” she huffed to herself.

Bam. Bam. Bam.

Swinging the door open, she glared, “Have you finally decided to quit this silly game of yours and listen to me for once?”

Her eyes widened as a deep chuckle sounded and she backed away from the door, “No, I don’t believe I shall quit this yet, love. I so do love these games of mine.”

Metal glinted as a bout of lightening struck outside.

***

Charging up her street, Korra dashed to her home. Busting through the door and into the darkness of the house, she froze. The door…it was supposed to be locked. Ivy always locked the door. She reached a shaky hand out to the side, flicking on the light to the living room. Coffee orbs widened at the carnage before her, tears streaming down her cheeks, her face drained of color.

Sirens wailed outside as she stood there, frozen. Her eyes remained glued to the scene even as police hurtled into her home, bustling all around her. Her eyes remained glued to the scene even as they questioned her on what had occured and attempted to pull her from the room. Her eyes remained glued to the scene…she couldn’t look away. Even as her vision blurred…even as everything sounded so far away now…even as she gagged at the destruction and the blood and the mutilated flesh.

The world around her darkened, her heart and head pounding in sync with one another, ‘Ivy…’

***

Along darkened streets, slipping through the shadows, a lone figure skipped along, whistling a sinister tune. His thin lips spilt wide, curving into a wicked grin.

"May God have mercy,
On my soul,
For I alone,
Must fill this role.

To slash the throats,
Of those who lie,
To send their spirits,
To the sky.

I split the skin,
And watch the red,
Escape the wound,
And leave them dead.

Jack the Ripper,
They branded me,
A son of Death,
And hostility."