The Ripper

William Jack Holloway

Though the man wouldn't admit weakness by thanking her for it, the Hunter remained entirely grateful for the way that Vhalla reached out to help pull the blood soaked fabric from his wounds. William despised this. He despised showing any sort of weakness, and yet the sheer amount of blood that he had lost had resulted in shaking hands and the inability to properly move his limbs. The Hunter seemed to have hit his head far harder than he had anticipated, and as such his thoughts were muddy and jumbled at best. He let out a soft groan as he felt her move around to his back. "It's bad, isn't it?" He grumbled, though he already knew the answer without her making any kind of confirmation. He could feel exactly how bad it was. Another scar to add to the many. Why did everyone seem to think blades were the way to hurt him?

The words that she offered him - she needed him? - were lost as he moved her in to sit beside him. He just needed a distraction, and there was nothing more distracting than her. She was beautiful, and he was falling, falling, falling. The smile he offered her was half giddy, half delirious, and yet he couldn't help himself as he nuzzled his nose into her skin and then up to let his lips brush against hers. The kiss was so gentle and he wanted to kiss her for the rest of his life, he had decided. But too soon she was pulling away and reaching up to feel the wound on her cheek. He'd barely noticed the wounds on the girl herself, though he couldn't deny himself the concern that laced his features as he lifted his shaking hand to place it on top of hers gently. "Vhalla, you're hurt," His voice was full of concern as he met her eyes, noting the way that her eye was already starting to blacken. "I'm so sorry." It was all his fault she was hurt, and guilt seemed to gnaw at his stomach as he looked at the woman. "You're hurt, it's my fault..."

He chuckled to her words, however, and he leaned in to give her another chaste kiss before he let her pull away. "It's the blood loss." He commented softly as he leaned into her shoulder. "Your bathroom is so nice though... I'm messing it up..." He couldn't deny how much he loved leaning into her, and he let out a tiny whine as he was finally pushed up to that sitting position once more. "Okay," He mumbled as she stepped away from him, the man focusing on merely sitting up rather than watching where the blonde woman wandered off to. He was only aware of her return when she turned that faucet on and began to dab the scalding towels against his wounded skin. He let out a hiss as he leaned forward, his palms flat against that bottom step of her bathtub.

He was relieved, then, when she spoke and offered him up something to latch on to. "I am..." He broke off, letting out a string of curse words as she cleaned before he finally clenched his jaw and managed to get himself under control. "I am... entirely surprised how much I want to spend time with you." It was true, wasn't it? Every moment of the past several days that he hadn't spent with Sebastian had been spent wishing he could see the girl who was rapidly being rewarded with his affections. He only had a moment to process her warning then before she gripped at his shoulder and poured a liquid on his wound. He tried so desperately not to scream, and as such the noise that escaped him was some pathetic combination of a muffled scream and a whimper. "Vhalla," He whimpered, his fingers attempting to grip at that cool tile to steady himself. He was so weak, and yet if there was anything that he would allow to see him like this, he was surprised to find Vhalla on that list.

By the time she managed to get the bandages around his chest, William was entirely out of breath. He was aware - somewhat - of the way that she had so intimately touched his bare skin. This was not how he'd wanted this moment to go. He wanted her to touch him out of want, not the need to heal him. He let out a sigh as he allowed himself to accept that how he expected his experience with her to go was not how it was going to be. Will did not hesitate as she pulled him to his feet, though he did struggle with keeping most of his weight off the slight girl. His gaze fell to her as she spoke. His body was tense at the words. Deep in his stomach was that overwhelming rage that came with the realization that someone had hurt Vhalla, especially a girl so young. But the reasoning behind it was even more so. "If I could, if you would allow it, I would end your Master's life. I would obliterate anyone who hurt you, Vhalla..."

How he wanted to fall into those blankets that she settled him down into, but the girl kept a firm hold on him to keep him sitting up. He lifted his gaze up to the woman as she spoke once more, his brown eyes softening as he took in her words. "Vhalla..." He murmured, his fingers reaching up to touch her uninjured cheek. His fingers gently stroked her skin as he drew her gaze up to his, a smile forming on his features despite the pain that laced his body. "I could never look at you and see a monster, darling. I know that you... you have been controlled and you have done things you regret but..." He hesitated, the words he was about to say pausing on his lips.

He had never admitted it aloud to a single soul - not even Sebastian - and yet to her it seemed only necessary and appropriate to talk about the horrors in his own life. His fingers stroked her cheek, holding her gaze to his as he opened his mouth. "What I'm about to tell you... it stays with you. I've never... told anyone else this. No one. Ever." He hesitated for only a moment. The man was positive that he could trust Vhalla, even if they barely knew each other.

"You know that I was a Duke in my human life already. I had two... best friends. One night, one of them was getting married and we went out for his engagement party. You know, just three blokes having the time of our lives." His voice was solemn, and he dropped his gaze down to look at the bedding. It hurt to talk about it. Much more than he anticipated. Perhaps this was why he hadn't told anyone this before. Still, he continued. "We were attacked that night. A vampire. She drank and killed all three of us and left us there. A Hunter... he came across me and I guess I was alive enough that he gave me some of his blood and took me home with him and made me what I am." He didn't talk about Sebastian, and how he had became one of those vampires. That, he was afraid, was not his story to tell and even if it was, he was not ready to talk about Sebastian with the woman.

"I spent the next fifty years with him. My maker, my Master. I had inherited his power. I can... make... blades out of energy. But unlike him, I can't control it," He dropped his gaze entirely then, unwilling to look at the woman while unveiling his shameful secret. "I use it, and I can't control myself. I become the worst version of myself. I'm bloody and dark and... demonic at best. And he wanted to use this. He tried to train me for years, but my hatred for him got the best of me every time until eventually... I killed him." He let out a breath then. "I returned to London after that and I was so... distraught. I learned that my parents... my family... my sister had died. The titles that were supposed to be mine passed on to some bloody cousin, and everything I had worked for gone. I... I stopped going by Cavendish after that. It hurt too much to realize how alone I truly was."

He took her hand then, giving it a squeeze as he prepared for the worst part of the story. The shameful part, the part that would send her running as soon as she realized who he was. "I guess in that anger, I... I lost control. I didn't mean to, but I lost control of myself and in the morning I'd wake up covered in blood and with another headline of a murder. Eleven people, Vhalla. Eleven innocent people I ended because I was angry at myself. Those poor people in Whitechapel who had so little to begin with, and I took it from them." He rolled a bit of the fabric sheets within his palm as he considered his words. "That's why the Council wants me. Not for all eleven, of course. Seven of them were supernaturals and... deserved it... as they put it. But four... four were human."

He looked up at her then, a sad smile playing on his features as he waited for her to react. "If I'm supposed to see you as a monster, Vhalla, then you need to see me for who I am too. I would love to be William Cavendish, the Duke of Devonshire, and all of the wonder that came with that title. But I'm..." He hesitated on the title he'd never spoken aloud, one that was given to him by those newspapers and one he'd never considered for himself. "I'm no more than Jack The Ripper. I'm a monster, a demon."

But darling -- it's only human nature.