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Act I - Land of Nod[]

Prologue - Friday, August 31, 1888, 3:25 a.m.[]

Above in the starless sky was the moon, its weak light the only source of illumination, apart from the street lights that adorned the sidewalks of London. The unsettling silence made this usually bustling street feel abandoned and empty; only the footsteps of a man walking broke the silence.

He was dressed very formally in an expensive suit underneath his long overcoat and his fair hair was hidden underneath his top hat. As he walked, his menacing blue eyes observed everything that he could about this street; the rows of houses that were cramped together, separated by the occasional alleyway, the clouds beginning to form in the dark sky like phantoms, and the lack of people in this usually bustling street. He should not be surprised.

It is three in the morning, after all, he thought.

He turned a corner into Buck's Row with a small smile. He was almost to his target. The person he was looking for was one of several of their enemies. From the streets, they listened for word regarding their activities and report it to them. And it was decided by his superior they were to be killed. And he will be the one to do it.

As expected, he found his target on the other side of the street. She was obviously intoxicated by the way she walked. He knew he would find her here. He has been following her to her home and observing the path she took to get there for several nights. Without wasting time, he walked to the other side of the street and, with a fake smile, approached her.

"What do you want?" she said aloud in a slurred voice.

"Excuse me, but are you Mary Ann Nichols?" he asked.

She straightened up and tucked her brown hair behind her ear. She replied, "I am. Who's asking?"

Without another word, the man grabbed her by the neck. He looked around to make sure they were alone, and then covered her mouth with his free hand. The woman tried to shout but to no avail. The man's grip was so strong that his fingers were pushing her teeth back. She stared back at those blue eyes; the eyes of a madman. The man, releasing his grip on her neck reached into his overcoat, and the woman's eyes widened at the sight of his knife, the blade kissed by the moonlight. She stopped fighting back, and knew this was the end for her. The man's smile turned into a large grin as he thrust his knife into her neck.

Chapter I - Friday, August 31, 1888, 3:50 a.m.[]

After seeing the two policemen on the sidewalk and the flashing lantern, David Sharp knew he was in the right place. He recognized the men as John Neil and Jonas Mizen, both officers and members of the Order. He walked to the other side of the road and noticed a figure illuminated by the lantern John was carrying.

"It's good you made it, Dave," Jonas said as he shook his hand.

"What happened?"

"The body was discovered here by two carriage drivers a little after 3:30. The man who did this was not seen, unfortunately. Nice uniform, by the way." Jonas pointed at the uniform of John Thain that he was wearing.

"Thanks. John got it for me." He turned to John. "Are you sure Thain won't notice?"

"No problem. That's his spare uniform. You need to relax. You've had that uniform for a month now," John told David.

"A month?" Jonas asked.

"For some special assignment the Mentor needed him to do."

"You're a surgeon, aren't you? No one would suspect you being here examining the body", Jonas said to David.

"I'd rather not have my name all over the newspapers. Can you bring that lantern a little closer, John?" replied David as he knelt down to get a closer look on the body, and he was shocked by a familiar face he knew.

"A woman who was probably in her forties. Her throat was slit twice and her abdomen sliced and stabbed. Whomever did this to her is a complete madman. Her name is Mary Ann Nichols, one of our few informants."

"She was one of our informants?" Jonas asked.

"Be quiet, Jonas," John replied, noticing the growing crowd of people, and then turned to David, who had a grim look on his face.

"So that's why you called me so early in the morning," he told John.

David was awoken by the ringing of the telephone on top of his bedside table. Forcing his eyes to open, he grabbed the speaker. "Hello?"

"It's John. No time to explain. Get in your uniform and meet me in Buck's Row as soon as you can."

"Wait, what?" he asked but the line went dead. He decided to hurry outside. John wasn't the kind to rush someone unless there is a good reason.

"Yes. I knew the Mentor instructed you to keep an eye on the informants, and that you had Thain's uniform. When Jonas and I found her body, that's when I ran to the police station to call you. I was lucky that there was a telephone. I just wanted to know if she really was one of the informants."

"She was. I need to go and tell this to the Mentor," he whispered and ran away from the group of people beginning to crowd around the body. He almost didn't hear Jonas tell him to get a surgeon to officially examine the body.

Chapter II - Friday, August 31, 1888, 4:00 a.m.[]

After bringing a Henry Llewellyn to the crime scene, David ran as fast as he could to the Mentor's location. He had memorized every street and every corner for when he brought him reports on their informants, and he knew the Mentor was not going to like the report he will bring him. He stopped at an ordinary looking block of flats and knocked at the door. Finally, an old man opened the door.

"David?"

"Mentor, I deliver bad news," David said.

The Mentor's face became grim and gestured him to come inside. They entered his ordinary looking flat; there were picture frames decorating the white walls, a small table at the centre with two chairs, and to his left a hall with a door at the end, presumably leading to his sleeping quarters.

"Please take a seat," said the Mentor, and David sat at one of the sturdy-looking chairs. "I assume this is about the informants."

"Yes, Mentor. Mary Ann Nichols, one of our informants, has been killed," replied David.

"They have made their move. It is time we make ours."

"Wait, how do you know this was actually done by them?"

"Think, David! You once said before that Nichols did not know anyone who would want to kill her. They must have found out who our informants are!"

"But the only one who does know of the informants is..." David could not finish the sentence. A long silence filled the room. "You are not suspecting me, are you?" he finally asked. Another wave of silence entered the room.

"Is there something I should supect, child?" the Mentor asked him with a sorrowful tone.

"Mentor, I would never do something as idiotic as revealing our secrets to the enemy."

"I wish I could believe you, David. I really do. But, from this day onwards, you are suspended from your duties and responsibilities as an Assassin until you can show evidence of your innocence to me. Is that cle-"

"You cannot do this!" David stood up from his seat. The Mentor punched him with so much force he fell back down on the chair.

"I can and I did. I do not tolerate outbursts and you will speak only after I have finished what I have to say. Do I make myself clear?" the Mentor said in a firm voice.

"Yes, Mentor," David finally said.

"I will assign you a special mission. If you did not reveal our secrets, find out how the enemy did it. And kill whomever has done this to Nichols before he targets more of the informants."

"I will, Mentor" was all David had to say.

Chapter III - Friday, August 31, 1888, 4:30 a.m.[]

David entered his house, disturbed by the events that has transpired that night. One of many he was to protect has been killed, he did not know who did it and how he found out that their informants are living under the guise of prostitutes, and he was accused of being in league with their enemies. After pondering over it some more, he decided to sleep and check if the rest of them are alright. He switched out of his police uniform into his normal clothing and opened the window to gaze at the buildings and streets before him. He lied down on his bed, and fell asleep before he thought anymore about the matter.

It was midday when David finally woke up. The first thing he noticed was a man who was sitting on a chair right across him. He immediately got up from his bed and examined his uninvited visitor. He could not have been more than his age, with balding hair, blue eyes, and a permanent smile on his face. He was wearing a long trench coat, and at his lap, a top hat.

"I'm glad you're finally awake," he spoke with a deep of a voice.

"Who the hell are you?" David asked.

"Oh, my. Is this how you treat all of your guests?"

"Only the ones who break into my home and watch me sleep."

The intruder chuckled. "I'm sorry. The way you slept reminded me of someone. However, she will not be waking up anytime soon." David immediately realized who this man was talking about.

"So it was you, then. The one who killed her." David said in a low voice.

"You're smarter than you look. Yes, I am the one who killed her. And just as I expected, you and your Assassin brethren were examining the body. If you really were assigned to guard them as I was told by the Mentor, you are doing an awful job at it."

"The Mentor?!" David was surprised. The Mentor was behind this?!

"I take it back. You're not as smart as you look. Just as you have your Mentor, we have ours. Except he is called a Grand Master. Oh, yes. I followed you last night, and thanks to you, I now know where your Mentor is. Guess who will be dead by tomorrow morning."

David was angry now, angry at this madman for killing someone the way he did, stabbing her in the abdomen even after she was dead, and angry at himself for not paying closer attention to his surroundings.

The intruder laughed loudly. "I am only kidding. While you were running to your Mentor, I was in the crowd, examining the amazing thing that I have created." This was the last straw for David, and he tried to punch this man, but he caught his fist only inches from his cheek. "Now, now. There is no need for such violence."

"Tell that to Mary Ann Nichols," David said as he tried to punch with his left hand, but it was also caught by this Templar agent.

He laughed again and the pushed him back to the wall. "It has been fun, but I must go. Be careful. There are only eight of them left," he said as he walked towards the window and then faced him again. "Catch me if you can... Dr. Sharp," he said and he jumped out of the window.

David ran to the window but saw nothing but a bustling street and an ominous dark cloud in the sky.

Chapter IV - Saturday, September 1, 1888, 9:30 a.m.[]

You have done well.

Your work is in the newspapers. What you have done has struck a blow against our enemies.

Though I wish you would tell me how many are left, you will make quite a fuss, so it will be up to you and only you to do this.

When do you plan to strike again?

The killer smiled at the message his Master sent him. He wrote a single word on the second sheet of paper before rolling it up and tying it to the leg of the pigeon who sent him the letter.

Soon.

He watched as the pigeon flew away and couldn't help but remember a time when he used to be one of them. But now, his revenge has begun. He closed the window and went outside. Like yesterday, the sky was filled with dark clouds and the streets were filled with people. He walked into an empty alley and, when no one was looking, started climbing up the building to his left until he reached the top. There he saw a good view of London right before him. He used one of his talents, and the world changed to gray and black, but at the corner of his eye, he saw a shimmer of gold.

He had found his next target.

Chapter V - Saturday, September 8, 1888, 5:18 a.m.[]

"There are only eight of them left."

"He was talking about the days", David thought as he scouted out the street below from the rooftop. "There were only eight days left from that day. Today. This is when he will strike."

David could hardly sleep since he figured out what those words meant. But now, with his dagger holstered on his belt and his hidden blade on his wrist, he knew he was ready this time.

Using his second pair of eyes, he saw Annie Chapman down below, shimmering in gold. He began to follow her.

It was quiet in Hanbury Street. There were a few other people down on the street besides Chapman, and not one of them were wearing the same trench coat and hat the killer wore.

Chapman slowed and turned a corner. David followed when he was tackled to the ground by a shadowy figure.

There was no doubt that this was the man whom David awoke to a week ago. He was still wearing the trench coat, but not the hat, showing his balding hair. David punched him in the face and the man stumbled to the ground. David kicked him at his torso, but the man grabbed him by his leg and countered with his own flurry of kicks and punches. David knew that with power alone, he was no match for this brute. He needed to try another approach if he ever hopes to beat this man.

David pulled out his dagger and swiped at the man, but he blocked David's hand, disarmed him of his dagger and stabbed him once in the arm and twice at the back of his shoulder.

"Checkmate", he whispered to David's ear before he threw him nearly at the edge of the rooftop.

He walked away from David's lifeless body, but from behind him, he heard a loud cry and when he turned around, the only things he saw were a glimpse of a bloodied and enraged man, and the reflection of moonlight against steel.

"Checkmate", David said as he pulled his bloodied hidden blade out of the neck of the lifeless body of the Whitechapel Murderer.

Chapter VI - Saturday, September 8, 1888, 5:31 a.m.[]

Standing over the lifeless body of the man, David began to walk away.

"Are you happy?"

He turned back around. The man he thought was lifeless was still alive. He picked up the bloody knife on the ground and was ready for anything this man had in mind.

"What did you-" David winced from the injuries he sustained in his right arm. That injury was serious; he would consider himself lucky if it would heal after that.

"Leave me. Go to her. She needs you."

David suddenly remembered. The informant! He left the dying man and looked down to the alleyway. He saw nothing from there. He was about to jump down when the pain came back to his arm and he fell to the alley below. David laid down on the ground in pain. From the corner of his eye, he could see the dead body of Annie Chapman.

"No!" He struggled to stand up. But once he did, he took a closer look at the lifeless body.

Her throat was cut deeply by a sharp blade. The abdomen was cut open and her intestines were thrown out. David wanted to look away, and he did. He stood up and muttered, "May death bring you comfort." At that moment, something sharp hit him in the leg, and he fell down.

He looked to see a crossbow bolt embedded on his right leg. He saw another bolt hit him in the left shoulder, and another to his already badly wounded right arm. And in front of him, holding a crossbow in his hand, was a man. He was about as tall as he is, with blond hair tucked underneath his top hat and wearing a trench coat and a smile on his face.

He walked closer to David and said, "So we meet again, Dr. Sharp. Do you like what I've done over there?", he said, pointing at Annie Chapman's dead body.

"What do you mean, meet again? Do I know you?", David asked. He doesn't remember being friends with mad serial killers.

"Oh my. That accident three years ago really did not set your head straight. Never mind, this is not what I am here for."

He pulls out a piece of white fabric, and from his coat pocket, a syringe. David knew exactly what was in that syringe. Without another word, the man sprays the contents of the syringe onto the fabric. David tried to struggle and keep the fabric away from his face, but it was futile. His injuries were too serious. He couldn't stop the man from holding it down to his nose. He could smell the chloroform in the fabric as his body went numb and his vision went black.

Chapter VII - ???[]

Everything was a blur.

He was in the middle of a street, trying to look for his fellow Brother. There were a few drunks on the street, women who were selling their wares in this evening. The one he was trying to find stood out from others by the garments he wore; he was thin, wearing a white coat with a hood covering his head and an ornate mask hiding his face.

"Come" was all he had to say as he started walking down the street.

"A pleasure to meet you too," mumbled David as he started following the man."I thought that was the meeting place."

"No, the meeting place is right in front of us." David looked ahead and saw the Parliament building with the Elizabeth Tower at its side. He wasn't surprised; he heard from his colleagues that Assassins that acted rashly were suspended from the clock tower with a rope. Rumors, he told them. But now, who knows? They might even do that to him as part of his initiation.

David bumped into the man he was following, who stopped at a wall. He could guess what the man was about to do, and sure enough, the man presses his gloved palm onto a part of the wall, which slides in as what appeared to be a wall opened into a dark corridor.

"Follow me," said the man. David followed as the opening coled behind them and there was nothing but total darkness. David used his talent; it did not brighten the corridor but it lit up the man into gold and on the ground, he could see a glowing red trail. He did not know whether the man possesses the same talent as him but then again, the corridor never split into multiple other corridors. He kept on following the man until he whispered, "Stop."

"What is it?" David asked as the man removed his mask and moved his face closer to a wall. He willed his talent away and now saw what the man was actually doing; he was staring through a small hole in the wall.

"Something is not right. All of them were supposed to be there," said the man as he put on his mask while David took a look inside the peephole. It was a fairly, empty room, with a door on the left, and a simple table with a candle on it at the opposite end. Nothing out of the ordinary, until a man in black came into the room dragging the body of someone.

"What the-" But that question was cut short by another man in black entering the room. This man was muscular while the other was wiry in frame.The two of them started talking while the wiry man silently dropped the body on the floor. It was a man in a white coat; David turned to his companion at his side to make sure he was a different one. He was.

"The boss told us they would be here," said the muscular man with an accent. A French accent, if David is correct.

"Boss also said these men were not to be underestimated. Perhaps they found out we were after them," said the wiry man who was British.

He heard another voice from outside the door. The voice said, "Found another one."

The two men hurriedly left the room, which was once again quiet and empty.

"Who was their boss?" David wondered before realizing the man in white was already ahead of him. He caught up to the man.

"Did you hear what they said?" David asked.

"Yes, that's why we must find the others," said the man pressing his palm to yet another doorway on the wall. The light in the room was almost blinding, but David's eyes adjusted back to normal. It was another plain room , just like the other one.

"We will split up. I will search the lower levels, while you search this floor," the man said as he crept out of the room and leaving David to wonder just what is going on.

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