?:? P.M.

You were standing in your garden, surrounded by dead plants and the light of the full moon. It was a cold night, but you weren't freezing even though the only thing you wore was a white nightgown. You took one step back on the frozen ground and tried to escape the shadow that was chasing you. It was moving slowly because it knew that it would get to you anyway, even if you tried to escape. The shadow was hiding in a bush, playing with the leaves so the last ones fell off. It played with you. The shadow wanted you to move before it made its next step. Like you were figures in a chess game. The shadow was the black queen and you were the white king. It was able to move in every direction as much as it wanted to and you were only able to make one step at a time. You were captured, like every one of your victim. Slowly, you stepped to the left and hid behind the old tree. The shadow seemed to watch you and for a moment you even thought the bush laughed at you for being so predictable.

You closed your eyes and leaned back on the tree. It made you feel anxious to be so vulnerable and weak but you knew that the shadow was stronger than you anyway. You never saw it's face, you didn't even know if it had one, but it frightened you even though it never showed its face. It was coming closer and closer, chasing you like a snake was chasing a rabbit: patient, focused and silently.

You kept your eyes shut as you felt a cold flow of air on your cheek. Like the shadow brushed over it with its invisible hand. You took a deep breath and knew it was over. The shadow won. Checkmate. You lost. As you were breathing out, you first felt nothing, but then the shadow rushed into your body and it felt like someone pushed shards of ice into your body and into your soul. The feeling was so overwhelming, you only stood there and screamed, but nobody seemed to hear you.

When you woke up, you were still screaming. The cold feeling lasted a few minutes and you were trying to catch your breath while your heart was racing. Your face felt wet like you had been crying and the bedsheets were lying on the ground. It was only a nightmare, you were still alive. After a few minutes, your pulse and your breathing were back to normal, but the feeling of being chased by a shadow still lasted

08:30 A.M.

After your nightmare you washed yourself and got dressed up in a kind of eccentric black dress. It got a black corset and a skirt which was longer in the back than it was in the front. Your black boots were knee-high and the thin heels were making a unique sound as you walked into the café. Four days ago you successfully killed Mister Pomeroy and now it was time to get payed. Your customer wanted to meet at 8:30 A.M. at desk 5 in the "la lune" café.

A few locks of your (h/c) hair got loose of your updone hair and fell on your shoulders so they lightly brushed them as you walked. For a moment everybody in the small café seemed to freeze and looked at you but then the chatting went on and nobody looked at you anymore. Nobody except for one person. A rather ordinary looking man with round glasses and a beige trenchcoat looked at you and you looked at the sign on the table he was sitting at. Table number five. This was the man who was supposed to give you your well-earned money. Your smile deepened as you sat down in the empty chair in front of him. "What a wonderful day. The sun shines, the people are coming out of their houses and it smells like roses.", you said instead of greeting him like every normal person would. He looked at you for a moment and nodded. "Indeed, it is a nice day.", he said with no emotions in his voice and took a last sip of his tea. On the table was lying the newest edition of The Times with the big headline "Black Rose strikes again" and a picture of the peacefully looking Mister Pomeroy at its front. The newspaper was folded in the middle and handed to you by your nameless counterpart. "You should read the cover story. Really interesting."

The man stood up from his chair and nodded in your direction. "Goodbye, Miss Morgenstern", he said rather quietly so only you were able to hear it. "Goodbye", you answered as you took the envelope out of the newspaper. It felt heavy and you smiled over your reward as you slid it into the pocket of your small purse. Now you got time to read the newspaper and drink a nice cup of tea before you left.

About an hour passed before you finally left the café. You took all the time you wanted to either drink tea and read or talk to the waitresses. They seemed nice and you had plenty of time left because there was no new customer. You took the newspaper as you stood up and folded it in the middle like before, then you left the café with a slight smile on your lips. It was still sunny and not as cold as a few days ago which was like a little miracle in London, where it was usually pretty foggy.

You walked along the street where the hotel, that you recently worked at, was. Outside there were standing three men, a child and Mrs. Hoover, who owned the hotel. Curiously you continued walking by but slowed down a bit.

"...so I repeat: the only person who could have been with him at this time, is a french woman with black hair who worked as a maid at your place but is missing now?", one of the men said and looked at his notes. Mrs. Hoover nodded and leaned against the wall. "She was such a good girl, maybe she got killed, too? I would not expect her to do such a bad thing.", she mumbled as the kid stared at her with his cold, blue eye. "Don't underestimate anyone. The ones that look the most innocent are the cruelest", he hissed at her, taking a quick look at the scary, black-haired man next to him. They looked somehow familiar to you but you weren't able to tell why. The man said nothing and looked at you. Just for a moment his red eyes met your (e/c) ones. It felt like the shadow of your dream crawled under your skin and made you shiver. In this short moment you felt cold, like his eyes were staring directly at your soul, and you felt strangely exposed.

The man with the notes seemed to notice that the attention of the rather scary looking guy was focused on something behind him and turned around. In the second he looked at you, you knew him. It was Inspector Abberline from Scotland Yard. You had met him a few times before because like most people he knew the story of your family, but nobody was ever able to bring on the necessary evidence that you all were killers. "Miss Morgenstern. It's a pleasure to meet you here - what a lucky coincidence", he said and closed his notes. You took a quick look at Mrs. Hoover, but she was talking to his colleague, so she didn't notice you. Instead of her the two unknown figures had noticed you and now stared at you. "The pleasure is all mine, Inspector Abberline. Another murder, I assume?", you answered him and smiled innocently.

Inspector Abberline looked not very pleased at you and seemingly wanted to ask you how in hell you knew about it but then he noticed the newspaper in your hand with a photograph of the case on it. Then he found something else to criticise. "Abberline. It's Aberline for Christ's sake!."

You knew that his name was Abberline but you liked to tease him a bit. After losing his temper for a moment, he took a deep breath. "Unfortunately yes, my dear. You got nothing to do with it?", he asked more like a rethorical question than a real one. He seemed to assume that you had to do something with it but you would rather strip from your dress and walk along the street naked than give him an honest answer on this question. "Of course not.", you said, simulated shocked of the offensive question. You even gasped to make your little act perfect. Abberline just sighed subdued. It was pointless and he knew it. "That's it for today. I'm sorry that I worried you, Miss Morgenstern and I'm sorry that you couldn't get any further informations on the case Earl Phantomhive.", he said in a rather dulled tone before he left.

Earl Phantomhive? So this boy was the "Guard Dog"? Abberline clearly spoke to him because the scary guy from earlier now kneeled on the ground in front of a cat and fondled it. Really strange. So you met the Inspector and covered up your tracks a little bit more and you now knew what this mysterious Earl Phantomhive looked like.

"So you are the young Earl?", you asked the boy in front of you and eyed him up and down. He raised his left eyebrow and remained silent until you reached out your hand. "(y/n) Morgenstern. It's a pleasure to meet you." He took your hand and shook it for a moment. "Nice to meet you, too. Sebastian? If you could let go of this damn cat... I would be ready to go. Now." His tone was sharp and determinant and the much older guy called Sebastian sighed and let the cat go. "Yes, young master.", he answered with a small bow. "Have a nice day, Miss Morgenstern." His master started walking the opposite direction of the street as he turned around and looked at you one last time with his red eyes. For a moment you even thought they were cat-like slits but when you blinked, they were back to normal. Maybe it was the sun. You shook your head and walked away from the hotel, back to your flat.