In a dark, stormy night, a man forcefully pushed a prostitute to a chair, quickly tying her down to it before she had time to escape. She was scared for her life, shaking uncontrollably as she tried to scream through the cloth that muffled her. The man felt amused by her struggle, her fear giving him a twisted sense of pleasure. Going to the back of the room, the man grabbed a container of red paint.

Grinning, he turned back to the fearful woman. She looked up at him, her bright blue eyes staring into his yellow-green ones. Delicately taking off the cloth around her mouth, the man then took out the red paint and started to paint her lips, making them as rich and thick as blood.

The woman flinched at the touch of the brush, and feeling irritated, the man quickly took a hold of her jaw and brought her closer to him. The prostitute whimpered and the man glared down at her. Setting down the paint, he reached out to a case and grabbed a small cutting knife, bringing it slowly to her throat...

...No, stop! You can't kill her!

I screamed that in my mind as I saw the man, who I witnessed through his own eyes, attempt to murder the prostitute. This had to stop! Why kill a whore, what could you possibly gain from it? This was wrong, this was wrong!

And yet...why do I deep down feel nothing towards it? Why do I feel that seeing a person murdered as an everyday occurrence? Why does it seem normal to me?! Why...

Wanting to wake from the nightmare, memory, whatever the hell it was, I forced myself to open my eyes and regain consciousness. I was laying on my back in my bed, the room being fairly dark as no sunlight coming from my window.

"Sebastian."

I felt my heart stop for a second as I looked over to see Edna sitting beside my bed, looking down at me worriedly.

"Edna?"

I tried to get up, however Edna immediately put her hand on my chest.

"Sebastian, you need to rest," she said, gently pushing me back. "You have only just recovered after being so dreadfully ill."

"'Ill?'"

I don't remember becoming sick. All I remembered was that Jasper mentioned the name 'Jack the Ripper' and I got an awful headache and then...

"Daniel told me that while you were in the kitchen with Jasper and Simon, you had some sort of mental breakdown and almost collapsed," Edna explained. "Martha was able to give you some medication to help, but you've been lying unconscious ever since."

Leaning over to my nightstand, she grabbed a cup of tea.

"Simon made you that special tea after you had your episode. It is cold, but it is here if you need it."

"Thank you."

I sat up a tiny bit and took the tea.

"How long have I been out?" I asked as I took a drink.

Edna took a moment before answering.

"For a few hours now, though it is hard to say. I've only found out an hour ago after coming out of a meeting with Lord Black, and I've been at your side since I found out."

"I..."

I blushed slightly.

"...Thank you. I appreciate you being worried about me."

Edna smiled.

"You're welcome. I can't have my servants fall ill like this. Like I told you when you first took this job, I care very much for all of you."

She stared at me for a second, her eyes going slightly distant as a loving look appeared in them. But before I could make note of it, Edna realized she had dozed off.

"So, are you feeling any better? Do you have any idea what caused you to have that episode?"

I took a moment before replying, as I wanted to make sure I said my words carefully.

"Yes, I do. Though I am a bit tired."

I finished off my tea and gave a large smile.

"I'm sure it was just a minor thing and I'll be just fine. There is nothing to worry about."

"'Nothing to worry about?'"

Edna narrowed her eyes.

"Sebastian, this isn't something to take lightly. Head injuries are very serious and from what happened today, your side effects seem to be getting worse and worse."

She stood up.

"I'll be making a call to London tonight and see when I can get you the earliest doctor's appointment. Whether you like it or not, you need to get your head looked at by a professional doctor. Hopefully he can get some medication or some treatment to help you."

"Edna, I really don't think that is going to help," I replied. "I'll just be a little more careful from now on as my memory returns."

She shook her head.

"Yes, you will need to be more careful, but I still want you to see a doctor. And as your mistress, you will do as I say. This is an order."

She turned her back on me and made her way to the door.

"Edna, please..."

I quickly got up and grabbed her by the arm.

"Edna, I know you are worried about me, but please-"

I cut myself off.

Edna turned to face me, but she no longer looked like Edna.

Her face has grown older and more experienced, her long red hair now short with only a single bang and her brown eyes becoming brighter and sharper. I blinked, my head beginning to ache again.

"...Sebastian?"

I heard Edna's voice, yet it wasn't her voice. It was firmer, more mature, and the voice brought many emotions within me to go wild.

"...Madam..."

Unexpectedly, I pulled her close to me and held her in my arms. I hugged her close, as if I was trying to hold onto something I had lost a long time ago. Something that was dear to me, but foolishly threw away because of some short time frustration. I could not understand why I was feeling this, why I was acting this way, or why I was seeing this woman.

"...Sebastian...?"

Sebastian...why is she calling me that? That isn't my name, why isn't my dear madam saying my name?!

"...Sebastian, it's alright."

I felt a pair of arms go around me, tightening me in an embrace.

"Sebastian, can you hear me? Can you recognize my voice?"

"...Edna..."

I pulled back slightly, looking down at Edna face to face. It took my mind a bit to understand what was happening, that I had my lady so close to me in my arms...

Shit.

"I...I'm so sorry," I apologized, trying to keep my focus on her in case my mind went ballistic again. "I-I have no idea what came over me. I..."

I tried to pull myself away, however Edna kept me close.

"It is alright. You are not yourself."

Her voice was gentle and soft, her expression loving and kind. She pulled me into a hug, tightly putting her arms around me.

"Take it easy the rest of the night, I want you to rest," she whispered into my ear. "Tomorrow we will go back to London together. There, we will get a doctor to look at you and do what we can to help you. Alright?"

I said nothing in reply, my mind going blank. When I said nothing, Edna released me from her hug and gently pulled my bangs back.

"...Get some rest, Sebastian. I will send for Martha to check up on you later. I will see you in the morning."

Giving me one last hug, in which I felt a longing coming from her soul, she quietly left me in my room.

As soon as she was gone, my headache came back in mere seconds, images flashing through my mind. With the little conscious thinking I could do, I took off my glasses, setting them next to the empty tea cup on my nightstand and fell on top of my bed. I clutched onto the blankets, my senses going wild as memories tried desperately to return to me.

Jack the Ripper, murdered whores, a beautiful woman cloaked in bright red... The sound of a sharp blade moving at a high-speed, cutting into the flesh, muscle, and bone of screaming whores, desperate for their lives. And everything colored in red.

Red, red, red...

From the corner of my eye, I could see my red coat hanging off the edge of the bed. Desperate for some kind of comfort, I took a hold of it and brought it close to me, closing my eyes tightly.

"I cannot kill this child! This child is my-!"

"Ah, you pitiful being."

I felt a rough hand touch my face, however I did not open my eyes. I was in too much pain to care, was too confused to comprehend what he was saying or who's voice it was. I was too mad to tell what was going on, memory trying to take over me.

Suddenly, I felt something was being brought to my face, a stench that was overpowering the smell of death that filled my nostrils. I tried to open my eyes to see what it was, however, I found it extremely hard to do so. The smell...it was numbing my senses, numbing my mind's madness.

"I loved you dyed in the deepest crimson of spattered blood... You don't deserve to wear red at all... The curtain has fallen on your cheap performance of 'life...'"

I faintly heard a soft, deep chuckle, where I eventually fell asleep.

"Farewell...madam..."