Rain fell on Brooklyn's streets. The dim light of the lamps and the water made it impossible to see. Two hooded shadows huddled together in a street corner whispering. The onlooker felt a smile tug on his lips. The street was entirely empty. This would be so easy. New Yorkers were so foolish and mindless. So used to the constant noise that they had learned to ignore it. That was their biggest mistake.
He wasn't planning on hunting tonight but when it started to rain he knew the rain would wash away his fingerprints. He was so tired of being ignored by them. He needed to get their attention, every morning he would scan the newspaper for anything mentioning him but nothing and he was tired of it. Tonight they would notice. Yes, it would be tonight.
Slowly he made his way across the street, reaching into his pocket for his new knife. Like always, he had to buy a new one after every hunt. He couldn't risk the type of cut the knife left being recognized if the police ever did enter his lodgings.
The man across the street looked up. Confusion was overtaken by fear when the knife reflected the moonlight. He reached over to his companion's shoulder to warn but it was too late. I was already close enough to throw my knife. The knife carved itself into the strangers shoulder. A cry of shocked pain escaped. I relished in that sound, it brought me so much pleasure.
The stunned companion turned. He looked me up and down in a horrified way. Good, I wanted them to feel terror.
I was not crazy, I was not crazy. I had a purpose, a very important purpose. No one understood that.
I kicked the unharmed man. It was a quick and low blow. While he scuttled on the floor, I took the lodged knife out of the wounded man. Making sure to twist it in the process. His cries would bring attention. I had to finish him quickly.
"Ain't that something" Race muttered to himself. Brooklyn just kept getting worse.
"What are you mumbling about?" Skittery asked, hanging his head over the bunk.
"Two men were found in the middle of the street" Race answered, glancing up at his friend before turning back to the newspaper.
"So? It happens all the time" Skittery commented.
"Yeah but this time the guy carved his initials on the dead body and cut all his fingers off"
"That wasn't in today's paper" Bumlets countered. Coming over and taking the newspaper.
"No, I picked it up in Brooklyn on my way back from sheepshead" Race snatched it back.
"Do they have a Suspect?" Skittery asked.
"No leads. Just a bloody knife"
"Lights out boys!" The command came from Kloppman, the lodge keeper.
The boys abandoned Race and went to their bunks. Oblivious, to the menace that lurked nearby.
"That's going to be sixty cents, mam" I said, leaning over the high counter to hand the woman her bread.
"Thanks Violet. You be careful now" Mrs. Patmore said handing me the change.
"I will. Have a nice day" I called out as the bell jingled signaling her departure.
I turned the till key and threw the money in, shutting it forcefully.
"Violet, I want you to clean out the pantry before you leave today. Find some time" The owner's wife, Mrs. Frinsger, shouted from somewhere in the back of the store.
I groaned. What did she think I did all day? Just sit around and gossip?
"I'll do it during my lunch break" I shouted back.
"All right, but don't expect any bonus"
I never did. I squatted and opened the metal hatch behind the counter. Poking my head in, I noticed that the bread was getting cold. Great. Closing the hatch I stood. We needed more coal. Underneath the counter, was a bed of hot coals that kept the bread warm. Spinning on my heel, I headed to the back of the store where the oven was kept. I picked up a bucket and small shovel. I sighed before I stuck the shovel in the hot coals. Red ashes flew up around my face. Squinting against the heat I poured the coals into the bucket and stood back. The shovel clattered against the ground when I was finished.
Carrying the heavy bucket with me, I headed for the front. The bakery was rather small compared to others. It consisted of four rooms. The pantry all the way in the back, followed by the kitchen in which two ovens were situated. After that, came the shop. The Shop had two rows full of bread, or ingredients for bread. A big window gave sight to the inside of the building. The till and the counter where we kept all the specialty bread was right in front of the kitchen door. We had a bathroom out back and it was the most disgusting thing ever. I couldn't really complain about my job, I was paid decently and I wasn't overworked like they were at the factories.
*Ding*
Customer.
I looked up and began my rehearsed ritual "Hello, What can we help you with?"
"I want a cake for my husband. It's our anniversary" I looked at the woman. She was dressed plainly, her light brown dress was covered by a dark green shawl.
"Oh. All right. If you could give me a second I'll go get the owner and she can help you with the rest"
Before I gave her anytime to answer. I left the front of the store and headed to the pantry where I assumed Mrs. Frinsger was.
"Look at this lass! How horrible! Who would do such a thing?"
Mrs. Frinsger was holding yesterday's newspaper in her hand. She had probably just been to the loo. Nasty, I wasn't touching that.
"Some poor man was murdered in the middle of the street" She said, holding a hand to her plump chest.
"In my day, when someone died they would at least hide them under a bridge or something of the sort. Folks now a days just leave them lying them in the street. How inconsiderate" Mrs. Frinsger slapped the newspaper against the pantry counter.
"There is a lady up front asking for a cake" I deadpanned.
"All right then. Better get there before she leaves" She wiped her hands against her apron before bustling past me.
I looked down at the paper. Hmm, it probably had to do with the trolley strike. Everyone would forget about it soon enough.