Chapter 21: Mistakes

As she entered the kitchen she was met by candles flickering from the cold air that passed through the door with her, there was no one in the room with her but she felt a presence in the house, she shivered and pushed the door over so it was slightly ajar. She crossed the kitchen slowly remembering the last time she had been in this room, it still smelt, a mixture of damp and rotting meat, and the metallic taste filled her mouth again, she could hear the neighbours children crying, shouting and laughing, and yet the house almost seemed to refuse to acknowledge any existence of anyone around it, it remained quiet as though it was in a deserted area not bustling London. She opened the kitchen door and stared into he hallway, a cloaked figure stood at the end near the staircase, a candle flickering in it's hand, it beckoned her towards it and began walking up the stairs. She didn't know why but she took a deep breath and began to follow, fairly certain she was walking to her own death, she reached the foot of the stairs and watched the flickering light from the candle dance across the walls, she began to climb the stairs one at a time slowly, her eyes always on the light ahead of her. When she reached the top of the stairs she followed the figure down the hallway to one of the rooms, her old room, she walked into the room, refusing to show any fear, she kept her head high and promised herself no matter what if he removed that hood she would always maintain eye contact, that is what Styck always taught her;

"Keep eye contact at all times, the eyes are always a give away"

She heard his voice in her head and repeated it over and over to stop her thinking about what would surely come next. She stood in the middle of the room and heard the door slam behind her, there were two chairs facing each other in the centre of the empty room, she assumed thieves had removed everything they could from the house after the massacre,

' Sit' the voice wasn't commanding, more inviting as though there was a silently implied please in the request and she found herself obeying, she watched as the figure circled the room lighting candles as he went, she remained silent, she would not be the first to speak. She waited until the figure sat before her, she watched as two gloved hands raised and removed the hood from his head, she didn't know what she was expecting appearance wise from the man massacring half of London, but he wasn't what she expected. He was young, probably only a few years older than herself, his hair was as blonde as hers but his eyes were dark, almost black and his skin was pale and almost translucent, he removed his gloves, his hands held scarring, like he'd been the worst behaved boy in his class and had received record breaking numbers of canings, she only glanced at his hands before reverting back to eye contact. He stared at her unblinking before he spoke,

' I suppose you have several questions, ask and you shall receive answers' she thought for a moment before asking,

' Who are you?'

' My name is Robert Burton'

' I didn't ask for your name I asked who you were?' she saw his lips twitch into a slight smile before he composed himself,

' Well you certainly have got guts haven't you, though I have to be honest I never doubted that fact, you really are nothing like him unlike the rest of them'

' Like who?'

' Your father, he asked me the same question, I gave him the same answer and do you know what he said?'

' Well obviously not if you remember I arrived after your…conversation' he let a small laugh escape him before continuing,

' He said I don't know any Burtons, not very sharp was he?'

' So you killed him for not knowing anyone with your surname? Seems like a perfectly good reason' she was sarcastic and it only seemed to make him smile more,

' You know Nancy I watched you the longest out of all of them, you who intrigued me so'

' If this was your way of getting my attention congratulations you succeeded though I'm sure there were ways that didn't involve slaughter'

' No in the beginning I just wanted you dead, but now I'm not so sure you really do intrigue me, you play my game so well Nancy I'm not sure I want it to end'

' Why my family? Did you just randomly pick us or was there a special reason?'

' You do like to keep eye contact don't you, I like that, to answer your question yes there was a very specific reason why I chose a certain member of your family'

' My father?'

' No he was of no use to me, he was more an obstacle, something I had to overcome to succeed in my goal'

' My brother or my sisters?'

' No again no use to me at all, they just cried at the sight of a strange man in the house'

' Me?'

' Very unselfish of you to not think it was yourself I was after first, no not you Nancy, I quite liked you, you were the only one to put up a fight so by the process of elimination you now know the answer'

' My mother' his grin widened

' No Nancy, no, not your mother'

' What do you mean?'

Noise from out in the street interrupted their conversation; he ran a hand through his hair ignoring it,

' Do you know what your mother did before she married your father?'

' No I never asked'

' She worked in a large town house right here in London for one of the wealthiest families'

' What does that have to do with this, did she steal from them? Are you the last member of the family and she stole something that you want back?'

' No, by all accounts she was the perfect maid, polite, kind, good at her job and very hospitable, always catered to the masters needs'

' You don't like to make yourself very clear do you?' he smiled again, she was getting frustrated,

' Your frustration is clouding your ability to use that brain of yours, where's the smart girl who remembered to remove her shoes when running from her attacker in the cobbled streets to allow her to make a quiet getaway, your mother and the master were having an affair' Nancy's mouth gaped slightly in shock,

' No…she wouldn't do that she was a good woman'

' Oh yes when you knew her she was a good woman probably learned a lot from her…mistakes' he spat the word mistakes out venomously, and for the first time she saw his eyes fill with rage,

' What do you mean by mistakes?' though Nancy's brain was now working and she felt fairly sure she knew the answer,

' Remember when I said she wasn't your mother?' Nancy nodded feeling her body go numb,

' That's because she was not your mother…she was our mother'