Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Bloodstained Noble ❯ Crime 2: Elegant Criminal ( Chapter 2 )

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Bloodstained Noble

Crime 2: Elegant Criminal

By: Melissa Norvell

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She walked down a dark alleyway. It was night and the sky was riddled with smoky clouds that dumped pouring rain on her form. It was miserable, and the weather had transformed quite suddenly after Madam Lafayette’s death at the prince’s party.


Raindrops beat down on Rosillia’s pink umbrella as she made her way further and further down the alley. Her thoughts were concentrated on the events of the party. No matter what she tried to do, she could not get her mind off of the lady’s corpse, hanging hauntingly from the rope. The looks of the spectator’s faces had been seared into her mind. ‘That prince…’ Her thoughts trailed as her memory took her back to that very moment in time. The time when she was standing by Yaris’ side as they wheeled out the woman’s body, ‘he didn’t sound too sincere at all. I didn’t see him at the time of the display unveiling either.’


“Something just isn’t right,” Rosillia said aloud, immersed in thought before something dashed past in a nearby conjoining alleyway. The pink-haired girl turned swiftly, only to come face-to-face with a wild-looking man with pointy, black hair and bandages around the middle of his face. Red eyes lit up in fear as she could only stare into the man’s features. His face twisted into a demented grin of pleasure as Rosillia attempted to step back and dropped her umbrella in a puddle.


All of the thoughts ran through her head as she took a couple of steps back. It appeared that her assumptions about the prince had been wrong. “You must be…Jack the Ripper. So, I was wrong about Prince Yaris-” Rosillia cut herself off as she attempted to dart away, but her hand was caught as she felt her assailant’s hand cover her face.


Before she could make another move, a strong arm was wrapped around her waist, which immediately caused the young girl to struggle against him. No matter how hard she tried, Rosillia could not get away. ‘This smell…it’s…’


Her thoughts stood still as she slipped into darkness.




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Yaris sat on his finely polished desk as he read a local newspaper that had been passed around town. The noble rested a hand on his chin as his blue eyes scanned over the title: Jack the Ripper Strikes Again! This time, he may have possibly claimed the life of Lady Rosillia Elaine Progmeyer. Yaris seemed a little perplexed upon seeing what looked like a familiar name plastered on the headlines.


‘Why does that sound familiar?’ The prince thought as he continued to read the article.


Rosillia Progmeyer was on her way home late last night when she was said to be abducted by the same man who’s been trying to resurrect the Jack the Ripper name. However, no body had been found….


“Wait a minute!” The prince’s head snapped up from the newspaper as he made a connection. He remembered bumping into the blue-clad girl at his party. ‘That was her! Miss Progmeyer was the only woman who spent a good amount of time with me at the ball. She also stood beside of me when Madam Lafayette was being wheeled out of my mansion. So…She was abducted by Jack the Ripper, huh?’ The blonde thought with amusement. ‘That just doesn’t seem his style. He’s far too dirty of a criminal to simply take in a captive.


I wonder who this man is who abducted her…and if I have any ties to him. How interesting…He’s trying to mock my name by pulling some sort of charade. How childish. I suppose I’ll have to hope that he killed Lady Progmeyer, that way I don’t have to kill her myself when she finds out that I was also responsible for the death of Madam Lafayette and the prior Jack the Ripper killings.’ Yaris sighed to himself as he folded the newspaper and sat it down on a nearby table and pouted.


“Why must I always play the hero?”


He’d much rather play the part of the Grim Reaper.




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Everything was pitch black, Rosillia lay swinging on a sheet of wood that was attached to chains. Her long pig tails dangled over the edge of the platform as she slowly cracked her eyes open to see the faintest of outlines on the metal bars of her giant cage.


She slowly lifted herself into the sitting position as the haze of sleep cleared and the smell of death and mold overthrew her sense of smell. As she directed her sights around the room, she could make out an opened door with a small amount of light that reflected off of a tall figure.


It was a muscular figure who wore a grey, army-type uniform. Their head of spiked hair was cocked unnaturally to the side. Rosillia’s glance shot from side to side as she spoke up.


“Where am I? What is this place?” She asked as she placed a hand to her forehead. The smell was making her a little dizzy, not to mention, she had the worst headache.


“Thank you for coming to my wonderful little world. Granted, it may be too dark of a world for a wonderful lady such as yourself, but you may learn to like it.” A male voice spoke, detached and crazed in tone. It was the voice of someone who’s mind had long since left the world of the coherent.


“Are you Jack the Ripper?” Rosillia asked strongly. She wanted to know, at least before she died. The girl had good reason to want to find Jack the Ripper.


“You think I’m Jack the Ripper?” The man nearly laughed at her assumption. “How interesting, I wish I was, but alas, I am not quite that talented in the medical profession.”


“Who are you and what do you want from me?” Why keep her alive in a pit like this? What was he planning to do? She doubted that she would get her answer, but she couldn’t help but hope for the small possibility that she would.


“If I told you my name, I’d have to kill you.” As cliché as that line was, Rosillia had a feeling that he wasn’t joking.


“That sounds like a line from a cheap horror novel.” Even if he wasn’t joking, Rosillia was far from impressed.


“You don’t believe me?” The spiky-haired man asked as he lit a nearby torch, which gave light to why she had smelled that putrid stench. There were piles of dead bodies- all female, that littered the room, stacked up in piles. They were all maimed and bloodied. It looked as if they had been tortured to death.


Was that truly the fate that she was to meet?


“What have you done to them?” She asked, trying to look strong.


“You see…They were never happy with the fact that I had spared their lives, so…I killed them!” The voice intoned happily, nearly bursting into laughter. “It was either that or sell them on the black market as slaves.”


“So…What are you going to do with me?” The pink-haired girl dared to ask. If this strange man was telling the truth, then she would gladly play the part of a slave until she was able to escape somehow and tell the world of such a horrible creature.


“Depends, really, you could…stay here and keep me company, or,” the man held out his arm, gesturing to an old, ragged-looking electric chair. “You could sit like a princess, perched in this electric chair and suffer the same fate as the others before you.”


“Why? Why would you do this?” She tried to stall, making casual conversation with the man. She hoped that she could find some way, any way to find out a loophole or a way that she could convince him to save her.


“Because I wish to see women suffer. They are such irresponsible, cruel creatures. They bring children into the world, only to kill or abandon them. A mother’s love is shady and fickle.” The unstable man spat with very sincere hatred to his voice. His eyes dilated and his frown was steep. He looked as if he’d go berserk just talking about the subject.


This man was a psycho.


“So, that’s your aim? You hate women because you were abandoned as a child?” Something like that wasn’t hard to read. He had made the fact quite clear. Even if he had not outright stated the fact, Rosillia was sure that she would have guessed it just by his views on women.


“My parents died before I got the chance to know them. As a child, I was sold into slavery, so I’ve had my experiences.” That certainly threw off everything that Rosillia had thought about the strange man before. It seemed that his story was not the cliché image that the pink-haired lady had etched in her mind.


“You’re wearing a soldier’s uniform. Are you affiliated with the army in some way?” If he was, then Rosillia could pin him easily. If he had gone AWOL, then she could use the army to track him down and arrest him. Such a demented man deserved to be locked away to never see the light of day.


“I’m an ex-soldier. I was honorably discharged because of my developed mental condition. You see,” the figure trailed as he picked a large chainsaw up from the floor and held it up to his unstable features. “I’m a little crazy in the head…So, no one wants to spend any time with me for too long.” The blades of the saw began to rotate as a loud buzz filled the room. It sent vibrations of fear down the girl’s spine. “I like the thrill of the chase and the color of blood. Nothing makes me happier than this moment!”


If she didn’t do something fast, Rosillia would die in that dank pit of despair.


‘What’s going on?’ She shrank back as the spiky-haired man slowly walked up to her. ‘He’s going to kill me.’ Red eyes glanced wildly about for any method of escape. ‘This is just a cage. There are iron bars everywhere. There’s no place to go but around in circles.’


The girl jumped off of the swinging platform and picked up her elaborate dress as the man opened the door of the cage and began to walk towards her. Rosillia began to slowly make her way to the back of the cage. She had to keep away from him and try to devise a plan for getting out of the cage without being caught and slaughtered.


A twisted smile graced the man’s face, laced with excitement. “Come and have some fun.” Before he could take another step, the man was jerked back with great force as he produced a ‘gyah’ and jerked back. He stumbled backwards and fell into his own electric chair.


This wasn’t anything he had anticipated. The only ones that were supposed to be in that cage were he and his prey. He had checked every lock, and left no evidence behind. Who could have possibly caught on to him that fast?


The man glanced wildly around, furious that he had been found out and deprived his opportunity to viciously slaughter the young woman and add her to his heaps of dead females.


“What? What’s going on?” The crazed man inquired and soon got the desired answer to his question as his hands and legs were shackled down by the device.


His own electric chair was being used against him!


“Huh?” Rosillia produced a barely audible noise as she cautiously made her way through the cage door. She wasn’t prepared for who her unlikely savior was. Upon seeing that blue coat, lined with black feathers, her red eyes widened in shock. ‘It’s that prince!’


“That is incredibly rude…To simply hack up such a beautiful creature and place her in a location so riddled with death.” Yaris’ voice was calm, yet held a casual cheer to it as the spiky-haired man struggled violently against the electric chair restraints.


The young prince picked up the discarded chainsaw and held the device up as he examined the speed settings. “This speed you have it set on…It’s far too low to inflict any major pain. Shall we turn it up a bit?” He asked as he set the speed to its fastest setting.


“What in the hell are you going to do with that?” The demented man asked out of fright and reflex. His eyes widened as he watched the blade rotate at high speed.


Yaris simply smiled. “I want to stain the white roses red…with the color of your blood.” He raised the chainsaw and cut the man deeply on both of his shoulders. Rosillia watched in horror as the man released agonizing screams and blood doused the chainsaw, as well as the prince’s attire. Yaris didn’t seem like the type to be blood thirsty or crazed in any way. It all was like a normal function. He killed with precision and handled the situation casually and he was certainly a smooth criminal.


Blue eyes glanced to the rose in his breast pocket as he turned off the chainsaw and plucked the delicate blossom from its resting place. He examined the blood-stained petals closely and kissed the flower, remarking on its perfection.


Rosillia clung to the iron bar, not truly knowing what to think. ‘I can hardly believe this! The prince…Could he be Jack the Ripper? I mean, I knew that he was suspicious before, but there were times when I second guessed myself. The only thing I want to know is why? Why would such a highly-ranked political figure do such a thing? If this ever leaked out into the masses…’


The girl could only think of the horrible possibilities resulting from such an act. Yaris would be dethroned, beheaded or any other means of torture and execution.


“Does it hurt?” Yaris asked in false sympathy as he plunged two metal clamps down into the man’s wounds. His victim released a pained groan in response. “I’m sure that it must be painful. You must suffer so much.” The noble pouted as he flipped on the switch to the electric chair, letting his victim fry where he sat as he walked casually to his second future victim.


Even though they had been friendly before, Rosillia would also have to die. It was such a shame that he had to change his mask from that of a hero to that of a villain once more.


“Lady Progmeyer, so we meet again,” he greeted her as casually as he had at the ball. Rosillia could hear the gargling screams and the searing electrical noises from that dreaded chair.


“Prince Yaris Adair Staffordshire III,” the girl glared defensively, ready to bolt at any moment. She knew that the prince would be no easy person to get away from, but she was going to attempt it if he tried anything funny. Rosillia did not want to die like her killer. “You’re Jack the Ripper, aren’t you?”


“Now, why would you think such an incriminating thing?” Yaris tone faked innocence, “especially after I just saved you from being a sick man’s dissection project.”


“What’s going on? Why are all of these women dying? I know you have something to do with it.” Even if she died, Rosillia wanted the answers to all of the deaths that had been occurring around London. There was no doubt that Yaris had a part in it. Even if he wasn’t Jack the Ripper, he was too shady not to be weary of.


“How presumptuous of you, I didn’t even get a thank you,” the prince smiled.


What? Did he think this was a game? What kind of crap was he trying to pull?


“I’m not saying that I’m not thankful. I just don’t trust you.” Rosillia was no fool.


“Because you don’t know what I’ll do to you, do you?” Yaris was well aware of the nature of his game. It was only natural that she would shy away after seeing what he was capable of.


“It’s probably better than what he would have done,” judging the factors at hand, Rosillia had to admit that this was the better outcome.


“You want answers?” Was this a trick question?


“It depends,” Rosillia was cautious. “What will happen to me if I find out?” She wasn’t stupid enough to think that this would not be without consequence.


“You’d either die or make a pact.”


“Make a pact? What is this, the occult?” It would not have surprised her in the least bit if he was also an occult member, especially by the sadistic way he just killed that man who tried to chop her up.


“If you tell anyone, I get to kill you. If anything leaks out from you regarding my identity, then you shall die. In return, I’ll help you with anything that you wish to accomplish. I’ll give you complete loyalty and be your puppet to dispose of. We’ll stick together as a team. Those are the terms of the pact, if you so chose to accept it.” Yaris explained. For some reason, he didn’t feel as if this girl would present him with too much of a threat if he simply bound himself to her.


He could grant her any type of status or wealth that she wanted. Most people had fickle wishes that were easily granted and perks usually silenced the lips of most. Yaris was confident of his own abilities to kill her off if anything were to go wrong as well. If the maiden was stupid enough to get caught by someone with a disability, then killing her himself would be easy.


A small smirk appeared on the girl’s face as she hid her eyes with her pink hat. What she was about to say next would be something that the prince was hardly expecting. “How can I pass up such an opportunity? I’ll accept the terms of your contract, if you kill off Baron Rutherford B. Hayes.”


That wasn’t anything close to what he thought she’d ask for, but it made things interesting. “So, you want me to murder the baron?”


“He plans on selling me on the black market as a prostitute. At one point in time, he simply wanted to kill me. He’s a deranged man and I want him out of my life.” Rosillia was more than adamant about her demand.


How amusing.


“How befitting that you hire a deranged man to take out another deranged man,” Yaris remarked on the irony of her situation.


“I want you to tell me everything,” this woman certainly knew how to take advantage of her side of the contract. She wasted no time trying to pull the cover the rest of the way off of his dark identity.


“Yes…I am Jack the Ripper. I resurrected his legend. I decided to cover my killings with the murder of a few senseless prostitutes. I assure you that I would never kill anyone who didn’t deserve it.” Yaris didn’t tend to think of it as murder as much as he thought of it as divine justice. Sometimes, you had to take the law into your own hands, and this was a marking time for him.


“What is your real goal then?”


“My family was murdered by seven conspirators who were closely tied to them.” Yaris began to explain his situation to the girl, unsure if she’d understand but a part of him thought that she would at least feel his pain through her own situation.


“I remember hearing about that. It caused a huge uproar among the nobility. No one knew why they were killed or who killed them,” Rosillia reminisced the subject and looked thoughtful.


“I intend to find out. This was all the idea of one person, and when I find them, I will kill them.” The goal was very simple, and knocking out the demented man who tried to kill Rosillia was a simple first step.


“What about him?” The pink-haired maiden questioned as she pointed to the dead man, whose body still jolted from the intense amount of electrical energy that coursed through his form.


“He killed my maid, whom he claimed to love. They were going to get married but he was sent off to war. They often wrote each other and she prayed for him to come back to her. Well, one day Teito did return and they were set to be married, but he ended up dismembering her and hanging her body parts from the branches of a tree outside of my room.” The tale the blond told made the air around Rosillia seem frigid. He explained to her a murder that was more graphic than any horror film she had seen. If that was going to be her fate, she would have rather decided on lying among the mass of dead bodies, never to be found.


“So…You did to get revenge for her sake?” Rosillia asked.


“Of course, she didn’t deserve to die like that. Plus, I’m looking for the conspirator who formed the band of seven,” Yaris explained.


“Why didn’t you ask him?” It seemed more plausible to ask someone then to just kill them right off like that.


“He would not have told me. He’s far too crazy to rely on and his type would rather die than expose someone who was guilty. He’s no different than Madam Lafayette.” Those who didn’t adhere to giving him information perished a quick death, and lying by telling him that they didn’t know was just as bad. By this time, Yaris was sick of hearing excuses.


“You killed Madam Lafayette?” She knew it!


“Yes, I did,” he admitted as he placed his hand under his chin and leaned close to the girl’s face. Yaris’ lips were so close that they nearly could have brushed hers. A pleasant smile was plastered in his porcelain features. “Madam Lafayette was one of the band of seven. She was involved in the murder of several members of the royal family. There were also many attempts to murder knights, earls and other important political members who served beneath the Staffordshire family.”


“So, you set the whole situation up? You’re the one who severed the chords for the light display?”


“Yes, I knew she’d be the one who went up to fix it. She was the only one who could have fixed it because she designed the switchbox for the display,” Yaris explained the secret of his fool-proof plan.


“You excused yourself when you saw her leave, then you followed her up into the rafters and hung her in the middle of her own display,” Rosillia deduced. When she thought about it, this man was more of a genius than she had originally proclaimed him to be.


“A murder is an artistic display of its own,” Yaris smiled and backed up. He caressed his blood stained rose. “Everything has artistic glory, even the color of blood. Red is the color of sin, guilt and anger. It is often associated with blood or sex. Back in the olden days, a scarlet letter, an adulterous symbol was red. In Catholicism, red is the color of wrath; one of the Seven Deadly Sins. Red is the color of hell and the color of Satan. Red is passion, list and beauty, a color that is enticing to the human eye. It’s danger, sacrifice and courage.” Glassy eyes trailed their sights back to the girl. “It’s a lovely color. Don’t you think?”


“You certainly are intelligent for someone who wanted to become Jack the Ripper. Your state of mind is odd. Most people would think that you’re mad…However, I thought your whole plan was genius,” Rosillia had to compliment his work. She couldn’t dream up anything like that to rid herself of the baron.


Perhaps this unholy union would prove more than useful, especially if she had such an able mind as a puppet.


“Oh?” Yaris was amused.


“You have a strange sense of justice, even if no one sees it but you.”


“How tragic, I thought we understood each other,” the prince pouted.


“I barely know you.”


“Then you will have all of the time in the world to know me beyond this point,” Yaris gestured for the girl to follow him.


Rosillia nodded. “I’ll follow you and help you get revenge.”


“Do you really wish to abandon your humanity and follow me to the depths of hell?” He must not have believed that she was going to take the plunge. A part of Rosillia couldn’t believe that she had just entered a pact with an axe murderer to keep herself from being his next victim. Then again, it was the perfect opportunity for her to get rid of the baron. Even if Yaris killed her when he was done hunting down conspirators, the life she’d lead with him would be far better than one of prostitution or slavery.


At least the prince was a gentleman, even if he didn’t have all of his marbles in one place.


“It’s either kill or be killed and if this helps me selfishly escape fate then I accept the terms of this pace with open arms. I’ll put myself into your hands. Do whatever you want with me as long as I can accomplish my goals. In exchange for your services, I will offer anything I can to you,” Rosillia was more than confident when she proclaimed her conditions to the prince. She’d rather be his whore than a common whore. Being with someone of class would be a delight over whoever she’d run across roaming the street. On top of that, the prince was quite a looker.


Very handsome, indeed.


Yaris took the small-framed woman’s hand and planted a gentle kiss upon it. “My dear, I am hardly the classless type. If you wish to do something with me then that is your decision. Until then, I shall work as your faithful knight and protect you from all hurt, harm or danger that may befall you. We are a mutual pair of killers, and each rose we drench in blood will be another way to beautify our road to hell, that is so generously paved in good intention.”




..To Be Continued