Hell is Empty
~What is hell? I maintain that it is the suffering of being unable to love.
Dostoyevsky
Lest we forget, the women walk.
They walk, for they are too poor to stay still.
They walk, and no one looks at them. No one loves them…
Save one.
Mary Kelly was a fireball, so said many. She was headstrong, and that was her downfall, for in that time, a headstrong woman must be silenced.
She heard things, she spoke of them, she cared not who heard her.
And perhaps she should have, for the streets were comprised of many souls, most of which possess ears.
This was what started the interest in her, for she was quite lovely, but she talked. She enjoyed attention, at least marginally.
And yes, she knew that more than one bloke fancied her.
Just how many, she couldn't rightly say.
Though Fandral, she was certain, was among them.
Poor sod.
She wasn't afraid. She didn't understand Fandral's intense fear. After all, what would happen, would happen whether he was afraid or not.
In hell he dwelt. And he had no scruples, he couldn't afford them. He had no heart, he was too broke. He knew of the need the American had, and he pounced on it, for when one is desperate, one is rash.
And he knew that no one would attempt it, because no one had the guts to.
He didn't care.
And the apathy dripped like acid from his lips…
He knew Mary Kelly…he knew that she was on to him, but he wasn't certain if she realized it. So close…too close…she had come.
He had fucked her once.
And he thought that she was lovely.
He would sometimes dream of her…and the night, red and dark, and moans and fingers, the taste of salt and the warm embrace of young Mary.
He followed her occasionally…seeing what and whom she was up to.
And he was coiling with ferocity and envy, for he knew what he was.
…there is nothing more pathetic than a monster who realizes what he is…
…and that a young maid would never look at him unless he paid her to.
But work was scarce. And he needed to eat.
He hadn't really eaten the kidney. But it was a laugh to think that there were those who believed him capable of it.
He had to send it…to think, some newsman was out there, assigning him an identity! That man had no idea who he was…what he was…what he could do if he allowed himself…
He lived in hell. A dreadful place, to be sure.
He lived there, and it had no food, no reliable bed, no blanket for warmth, nothing but black walls and hard floors and scary sounds and empty passageways.
Hell was empty.
Save him.
Messrs Stark own "Stark Industry" in the Philadelphia region. The company, still relatively new, is known for its advances in such areas as locomotion, agriculture, and biology.
Biology.
Jane read it again. Yes…it definitely said biology.
Two of her other names were disposed of, Nathan Cobb and Anthony Stark the only names remaining.
Cobb was a biologist, but he dealt mostly with the naming of species.
Stark, though…he was more exploratory and radical. He might actually be someone to seriously consider…
Jane took some notes and shoved them in her bag. She was at the Times archive.
She put her head down and left the place.
Jane made her way back to Spitalfields, her mind racing. Was she onto something here? Was she on the precipice of defining the motive?
She was positively light with excitement.
She unlocked her door to the apothecary and opened up in earnest. She had better start keeping more consistent hours…her clientele were already complaining about her inconsistency.
She smiled all the while she tended to her tasks, thinking that she should visit Loki later on.
And they were to go out that evening, comb the streets for clues.
How suddenly different everything seemed when one was…
She stopped herself.
What was she?
Her heart knew, but Jane wasn't quite ready to admit to anything just yet…she needed some time. It had been but a couple of days since he had walked her home, thanking her for being, well…her.
They had decided to wait until that evening to roam.
It was November 8th.
Jane had spent the past week going through the motions, doing what she could for her father, avoiding walking with Loki…it had been frightfully cold. But he continued to visit, and most nights, he walked her home.
But the weather was suddenly a touch warmer that day, and Jane thought that to walk about that evening would be all right.
They hadn't been discussing their project much, as nothing new had occurred.
For three months they had lived in uncertain terror, and the lull had made her lax. She didn't mind. She needed to exhale, to breathe deeply and for just a short while, not be consumed by the murders.
She enjoyed Loki's company, and that was the extent of her reprieve.
He was much more amiable than she gave him credit for.
She decided not to do herself up in any remarkable fashion when they went out that evening. She would simply go, and try to remain calm, the way she had been heretofore.
But what was going through her mind as of late was nothing that would ensure her composure…
She almost felt guilty about it. Almost.
When Loki would walk her home, she would fantasize about him taking her into an alley and kissing her, pressing her against a wall, much the way their first kiss was.
Or sometimes she would lie in bed, and think about him appearing, maybe because he couldn't stand to be away from her…and he would crawl into bed with her…
However, her being a virgin, in the strictest of senses, disallowed her reverie to take her terribly far.
She was frustrated by it.
Jane saw to a few customers, and the evening could not come fast enough. She found herself the past few days, just waiting for Loki to arrive.
And when he did, she was embarrassed, and she would be silent until he spoke.
Childish tendencies!
She blushed.
…and the door opened.
Jane turned and saw Loki there, hands in pockets, heading for the fainting couch. "What a day," he sighed.
"Indeed?" said she, sitting across from him.
His head was back, and he then lifted it and looked at Jane…
…was it possible that she had grown lovelier since he had seen her some eighteen hours previous?
Yes. Yes it was.
He swallowed and rubbed his face, and then leaned forward. "Fandral is insisting that Mary is in some sort of danger, so he wasn't at the shop today."
"He is? Do you think that she is?"
"I think she has always been, Jane. She is a prostitute, and what's more, she continues to walk despite the recent…events," he paused. "Fandral also reports that she has not paid her rent in over a month despite the fact that he gives her money quite regularly."
"What…?"
"Drink."
"Ah."
"Yes. He is very concerned," Loki continued.
"Yes…" and she sat back. "What is giving him this fierce newfound concern? There hasn't been a murder in a month."
"I'm not certain, but it seems to him…" he paused. "I think that he fancies himself being followed, or else watched when he is around her flat."
Jane considered this for a moment. "What if he stayed with her? Moved in? Or better yet, had her move in with him? He obviously…"
"He won't."
"Why ever not?"
"Because…" Loki glanced at her and then the floor. "He doesn't think that she reciprocates."
Jane's brow furrowed. "But…Fandral…he's a handsome man…"
"Is he now?" Loki looked at her, brows creased.
"Well, yes. Of course he is. Why wouldn't a woman enjoy his attentions?"
"Perhaps there is more to a person than their outward appearance, Jane. How shallow you are! Perhaps she desires something more substantial in her mate. Perhaps, while he is handsome enough, he lacks intellectual dexterity and humor…these are desirable traits as well," he finished in a breath.
Jane was staring at him, smirking. "You are quite right, Loki. It is fortunate that you have all of these desirable traits in excess," and she stood. "Shall we walk?"
He collected himself, feeling a bit silly following such a display, and rose from the couch. "Well, where do you suppose we should venture this evening, Jane?" he buttoned his jacket.
"What if we remained relatively close to the Market?" she put her wool jacket on, abandoning her wrap for the heavier garment.
"Have you a reason for this deviation from our norm?"
"Well," she finished closing up the windows and followed him out the door. "It's been a while since we walked. And perhaps we should open our possibilities a touch."
He nodded, and they made their way across the square. "There has been a slight increase in traffic the past few evenings," he observed. "I noticed on my way home last night."
"I've never been to your home."
"Well," he turned and smiled at her. "We should see to that."
"Yes…'tis only fair. You've been to my home several times now," she smirked. "Shall we go to the Ten Bells again?"
He hesitated a moment, as that was the place she kissed him…"If you like."
The place had a good deal of ladies in it…it appeared that they had begun work inside due to the chill, and were all chatting loudly.
One lady was alone at the wooden bar. She looked especially forlorn.
Loki went to her. "Do you need some food?" he asked her.
"Na, guvna. But me babe does," she smiled softly.
He nodded, and gave her five pounds. "Get ye home," he said.
She took it gently, as though disbelieving…"Ya sure?"
He nodded, and turned away.
The woman looked at Loki retreating, and a tear formed in her eye. So seldom was anyone genuinely kind to her…
He went to Jane and sat opposite her after retrieving two ales.
No whiskey that evening.
Well…he looked at her a moment…perhaps, if it gets very late…
No. Stop it Loki. You are her friend, at least for now…
And a smirk played upon his face.
"What?" Jane asked, smiling.
"Hm?" he snapped out of it. "What?"
"You were smiling."
"Oh…nothing…just thinking…"
Jane looked at him crookedly, "What were you saying to that woman?"
"Woman?" his eyebrows creased.
"Just there… a moment ago…" she indicated with a glance where she was referring to.
"Oh…evidently, she had a child, and I gave her a few pounds for food," he sipped. He glanced at Jane. "Look, Jane …I believe we've had this conversation before. You are looking at me in a most frustrating manner. I cannot read minds."
"Loki…"
He raised his eyebrows in question.
"You are…incredible."
His gaze fell, and he actually blushed. "I'm not," he muttered.
"No. It's true. You…helped her."
"Is that incredible?" he said softly. "I find it painfully paltry. These people…" he looked around. "They have nothing, or next to it. And I have…means. Would if I could give them more…"
Jane swallowed. "This is unlike you. Not that you were ever unfeeling, but that you…you never felt compelled…"
"To help?" he interrupted. "No. But spending this time with them, despite the fact that I work alongside…I never truly understood what fear they live with. What uncertainty. The pathos…" he shook his head.
"Loki…"
He downed his drink. "It is," he continued, finishing it. "The most unfair of circumstances…our killer…he thinks them all dispensable…and you know? They are."
She furrowed her brow.
"It's true. I don't feel that way. But the rest of the world does. And they are treated accordingly."
Music began to play, a fiddler stood and started playing his fiddle, stomping his feet…
"It doesn't need to be that way," she was looking at the fiddler, and now another violin player rose…"We don't need to be this way. We can start something."
"Something?"
She drank deeply and Loki ordered two more, and then she looked at him. "A revolt."
He stared at her. "How?"
She shook her head. "I don't know…"
And a bass began to play.
She smiled. "Let's dance, Loki."
"Dance?" he looked at the fiddlers.
"You're all questions tonight. Yes! Come on!" Jane got up, and took his hands.
"Get up an' dance wit dis girl," came a voice.
"Mary!" Jane exclaimed.
"'ello, Miss," she smiled. "Well, ya sorry sod. Get ye off yer arse…go an' dance wit 'er!" she clapped Loki on his back, and she smiled broadly. "Go on, den!"
Loki looked at her, and returned her smile. "All right, all right…let's go," he followed Jane to the floor.
And they began to dance…
…the noise of the room pulsed as they moved to the quick step.
Jane twirled and twisted around in his arms…she had no idea what she was doing, she hadn't danced in ages.
The room's inhabitants were stomping…there was glee…joy…laughter…Jane was being swung about, she was mad with laughter…
…and Loki joined in. It had been so long since he had laughed so hard. His face hurt from it…
Jane twirled into his chest, her palms against it, her forehead rested on his shirt. She didn't look up, but the music suddenly slowed. She swayed in time with it without looking up her partner, but he moved along with her.
And he wrapped his arms around her.
And she wrapped her arms around him.
They were very close, nary a chink of light could be spied between them. He rested his head on hers, his jaw on the side of her head.
And she felt safe.
And he felt safe…
"Jane," he whispered.
"Hm?"
He swallowed. "I…" he swallowed. "Nothing…"
She pulled away and looked up at him. "What?" she said softly.
He was looking from her mouth to her eyes and back again…"I…"
They stopped moving, the music had stopped.
"Loki!"
He stepped away from her, then looked in the direction of the voice.
It was Fandral.
"Fandral?"
Jane tore her gaze from Loki to look at him…"Fandral?"
"I'm sorry…" he looked at them both…had he just inadvertently sabotaged something important…? "Ah. Look…I was wondering if you might walk Mary home, Loki. I think that it's suspicious that I keep doing it."
"How did you know that I was here?"
"Mary mentioned it."
Loki nodded, then looked at Jane. "Would you stay here? I'll return and see you home…"
"I…" Jane didn't want him to go. She felt a pang of jealousy. "Of course. She doesn't live far, right?"
"Only ten minutes. And I'll stay here with Jane," Fandral smiled.
"Oh all right," said Loki. "Where is she?"
"Just out front."
Loki smiled at Jane and took his jacket. "Stay here. I'll be back momentarily."
"I'll be waiting…" she smiled.
Loki left, and Fandral looked at Jane. "Did I interrupt something?"
Jane smiled, shrugged, and went back to the bar.
"Ya like 'er, don'cha?" Mary asked Loki as they walked.
"Whom do you mean?"
"Don' play wit me…I've seen it before…"
"Seen what?"
"Ya luv 'er, eh?"
Loki's gaze snapped to her. "What?"
"Don' be 'fraid, guvna. Plain as day, dat."
They reached the alley Mary's door was in.
"Well, Miss Mary. Have yourself a good night," he tipped his cap.
And he left for the Ten Bells.
Jane was at the bar, and Fandral was standing next to her.
"I need to use the outhouse, Fandral," she said. "If I'm gone a bit, tell Loki I'll be right back. There tends to be a queue."
"All right, Jane," but he wasn't really paying attention…he was playing with his mug, thinking about Mary and whether Loki saw her home all right and if he had put her in danger for hanging about too much.
Jane went outside…
"I heard his name was Stark…"
There were a couple of men talking just outside the pub. Why didn't the Ten Bells have indoor plumbing yet? Most places did…
"Is that right?" came a raspy voice.
Jane hid in the shadow.
"He's been looking for a brave person to do some…experimental work on corpses."
Neither of them had cockney accents…but it sounded as though they were both foreign.
"…and I'm just the fellow."
And now she was scared.
"You are something, you know. You think because you're…"
"I'm what," he hissed.
"That you're desperate…"
There was a thud. "You're damn right. I'm desperate. And what of it."
Jane put a hand to her mouth.
"…and Stark is my ticket…" their voices faded.
And Jane was shaking like a leaf…
The killer! There! Not six feet from her!
…and she didn't see his face..
Jane whirled around. She needed to get back inside…tell Loki. Tell Selvig…
…but she never got the chance, for her mouth was in that instant covered, and no sound escaped…
"Well Fandral, I saw her home as you asked," Loki sat across from him, folding his hands.
"Thank'ee Loki. She was all right, then?"
"As far as I could tell."
He nodded. "Very good," he sighed and rubbed his face.
Loki smiled at him. "So, my man. Where is Jane?" he looked around.
"Oh…she went to the outhouse. Told me to tell you she'd be back in a moment."
His brow furrowed. "How long ago was that?"
"Erm…" and Fandral thought. And then his gaze snapped to the door.
Loki felt his heart sink fast. He paled. He stood abruptly, his chair falling behind him…and he went out the back to the outhouse…
"Jane!" she's here she's here she's here…"Jane!" he banged on the door to the small wooden structure….
Nothing.
"Jane!" his voice cracked…
Fandral was standing in the doorway, horror struck.
Loki looked at him, pleading…his hands were shaking. "She's gone."