City of Darkness

Chapter TWENTY-THREE

October 14, 1888

9:05 AM





He has found her. She is younger than the others, prettier, stronger. A better specimen by any method one might wish to employ, a more suitable target for his talents. A bright bird of Africa somehow trapped here among the common wrens.

She looks straight ahead when she walks. In her arms she holds something shocking, the most surprising thing a woman in Whitechapel might possess.

She carries books.

And - although he has not gotten close enough to see their titles, nor their authors, nor even, in this ecumenical part of the city, the language they employ – the very fact she can read is enough to set her above the others.

She is like me, he thinks. She does not belong here.

He has followed her twice, plans to follow her again.