The last months had been crazy for her. Toying with the Source Blood had been a mindless thing to do, in the beginning, but the benefits of it had overcome the consequences. Mostly everyone had adapted to the transformation- James was acting like nothing had really changed, and it mostly hadn't, except for the fact that he was now being even more infuriating than he used to be, being a smartass all the time, John actually began enjoying to teleport, and so had she in a way, after all travelling from one place to another wasn't that bad if she did it in his arms, and Nigel... Nigel was doing great too, if she overlooked the fact that she had ran into him naked a lot more times than she had wanted to, and that she had also ran into him hiding paintings that were clearly not supposed to be there.
Nikola however... Nikola was another story. John kept insisting that she should keep her distance from him, that he was dangerous now, but he was getting better at controlling his transformation, and deep down she trusted him. Like sure, he wasn't very happy with the animal blood diet she was keeping him on, kept saying that it didn't satisfy him enough, but he had promised he wouldn't feed on humans and she had believed him. She had to, because him being this way was completely her fault, and she couldn't do anything to hurt him, despite John's advices. But she knew that if it ever came to it, if she had caught him trying to hurt someone, she was going to have to stop him. Because she could overlook art theft, but she crossed the line at murder. It was lucky she had some sort of a calming effect on him and that he had agreed to take part in every test she had proposed. In short, given the circumstances, her life was pretty good, and it would have been perfect, if it hadn't been for her dreams.
They started sometime in late July, and at first she brushed them off as something inoffensive, as scary as they were. But then, by the half of August, they had got worse.
She could feel the rain on her face as she walked in the night, wind surrounding her. She should have been cold, but the way her body trembled with anticipation was not because of the weather. She was following someone, a young girl, and she could feel herself laugh at the girl's stupidity. She was out there, all alone in the night, displaying herself like the pesky human that she was, unaware of the fact that she was being watched from the shadows. It would have been so easy to take her on the spot, but where would have been the fun in that? No, preys were always tastier when they were scared. She craved the thrill of the hunt, the way she would most certainly try to escape the second she would suspect what was planned for her... Not that it would do any good to her, of course. She knew that running would be completely useless for her victim, that she was going to catch her before she even had the chance to run.
She felt her victim's pulse quickening and something dark stirred inside of her. So her victim knew that she was being followed. Good. She was going to do it quick, after all screaming would only give her away, and she didn't want that. Just a cut or two across her neck and her blood would flow. She could feel herself not being so sure about how the blood would spill out of her, like she didn't have too much training on the matter, but in the end it didn't matter that much. All it mattered was that her victim suffered, that for one second she would feel exactly what had been in her soul for a very long time, not being wanted, being sometimes rejected even... and dying because she couldn't bring herself to hurt the one who had hurt her, not even for a second. So this young woman had to do.
She was so close to her victim now that she could feel her heartbeats. She was scared, and she quickened her pace, but it didn't do her any good. She extended her arm, grabbing her victim's shoulder, and that was when she had turned to face the one that was following her. She felt her own heart rate quicken as she prepared to attack. This was going to be over quick. She raised her hand in the air, ready to strike, and the screams of a woman filled her ears.
It took her a while to realize that it wasn't the woman in her dreams that had screamed, it was her. She was alone in her bed and she clutched her blanket, trying to get rid of the feelings her nightmare had left her with. It was just a dream, she tried to tell herself, but this time it had felt too real. She tried to go back to sleep, but she was too scared that the dreams would come back to be able to fall asleep again.
"Rough night?" James asked her when he saw her the next day.
"Just some really bad dreams." Helen shrugged. There was no need he had to know the truth, after all. It would only make him worried.
"I know the feeling." James sighed. "Had some of my own. And if this wasn't worse enough, we have a new case."
"I hope it's nothing too serious."
"I hope that too." James said, but he wasn't so sure about it. "Scotland Yard only called me because the murder is a lot more violent than what they are normally used too, or at least so they say, but I have a feeling they fear they're dealing with a serial killer. This doesn't look like a one time thing. I doubt they will stop here."
"Who's the victim?"
"A prostitute named Mary Ann Nichols." James replied. "Her throat has been slit twice, and she also had her abdomen ripped open, like the killer wanted to remove her organs. But he was sloppy, like he didn't know exactly what he was looking for... Helen, are you alright?" he asked when he saw her face. "I'm sorry if I went into too much detail."
"I'm fine." Helen snapped at him. It was the only thing she could say, after all. Because how do you confess to your best friend that for the first time in many years, you felt something from your soulmate, and that he also happens to be a killer?
