Will Graham anxiously watched the carnival of masks parade past his post beside the towering pillar rimmed with a crown of golden leaves. As each new mask flit by, his eyes were drawn to the intricate lace designs that echoed the curling spirals painted on the mask. He carefully watched a smiling clown mask waltz past him. Will tried to glance beneath the plump porcelain lips of the mask to uncover who its wearer was. He was forced to give up after the carousel of masks spun the woman away.
The black lace on Will's own raven mask was beginning to irritate his skin, and he wanted nothing more than to remove it. Since Jack had been swept away into the party and left Will alone, the stretched beak of his raven mask grew heavier and heavier with each passing dance. He barely ever knew anyone at these parties, but now the masks made it unbearable. Again, his eyes scanned the party for a sign of Jack's fire-orange rooster mask.
He didn't find Jack, but through the haze of brightly colored costumes he caught sight of a stag mask intently staring at him from across the room. Will judged he must have been staring for at least a few minutes before he had noticed. The stag's stares made Will feel even more conspicuous than he already felt, and he cursed himself for wearing a darkly colored costume to such a glittery event.
Taking another glance back in the stag's direction, Will noticed that the stag was dressed even darker than he was. His all black attire popped out from the golden gowns of the other guests. As Will kept eye contact, the stag sprung to life and faded into the party. Will was surprised, and a bit envious, that such a black costume could so quickly meld in.
Just then, the waltz ended and Will was debating whether or not to ask the butterfly mask if she'd like to dance with him in the next one. He was half-certain underneath the mask dotted with pink and purple wings was Countess Bloom, but even he could not be sure if that dark-brown hair truly belonged to her.
"Curious, isn't it?" a soothing voice said, halting Will's thoughts on the butterfly mask. The question was barely more than a whisper and Will turned to find where it came from. He already had a hunch who the voice belonged to and he was proven correct when he once again laid eyes upon the stag mask. From up close, the fine freckles of darker brown could be seen and the shading of the mask better appreciated. He could also now see the eyes that peered back at him, dark and focused yet with a slight hint of intrigue. Will wasn't sure if it meant he should be intrigued or if the man was intrigued by him.
"There are numerous "curiosities" here tonight," Will said, daring to engage in conversation with the stranger, even going so far as to add a light jovial tone to his words. "Which do you find is worth commenting on?" Will asked. The man's mask stopped above his mouth, and Will could see his lips twitch in anticipation.
"You," the stag said.
"Me?" Will asked, caught slightly off guard.
"You are Sir William Graham, I assume?" the stag asked. Will nodded.
"Just Will."
"Will," the man said, testing the name on his lips. Will watched a heavy-set man in a pig mask teeter over to a nearby butler.
"I suppose it is rather curious that this masquerade is in my honor, yet I've been lingering on the edge of the dancefloor," Will admitted.
"I'm sure our host would find that a bit rude," the stag said. Will revealed a small smile as he gazed out over the dancers, not noticing the man glance over his mediocre costume made of imposter silk and up to the dark curls of his hair that fell over the edges of his raven mask. If a person was looking closely, the high quality of the mask was clearly out of place with the rest of Will's attire.
"If our host were here," Will pointed out. "So perhaps I'm not the most curious person here tonight."
"I'm sure there are many here that find your methods of catching the Scarlet Shrike to be curious," the stag said as they both watched the dancers twirl by.
"Only curious because they don't understand," Will said.
"Quite unfortunate that society's first instinct when met with something it doesn't understand is to denounce it as mere witchcraft," the stag said. Will looked away from the dancers, his lips thinner than before.
"Quite unfortunate," he said, barely audible. "How curious that now they dance in my honor?"
"They dance because with your victory they think they are safe," the stag said. "You gave this to them."
"I didn't give them anything. They're still not safe," Will said, eyeing the pig mask who was slobbering on the poor butler. "The Scarlet Shrike is not the only killer loose in the night."
"Are you referring to the Ripper?" the stag asked, his eyes glinting beneath the mask. Will tugged at the lace of his sleeve.
"You were the captain who almost caught him after the murders on the Rue Norman?" the stag asked. There was a slight ring to the way he said Rue Norman that made Will pause.
"Almost," Will said. "And then the trail went cold."
"You got closer than anyone else to catching him," the stag said. "Using your unorthodox methods."
Will felt a new unease at the stag's words. This was a different form of discomfort from what he felt because of the party. Working with the King's investigators had taught him to recognize his suspicions. For the first time, Will examined the stag, who was gazing out at the crowd. But Will was unable to notice anything beyond the mask and he was forced to pause when the stag returned his gaze. He tilted his head slightly and smiled, as if encouraging Will's curiosity.
"You seem terribly interested in my job," Will said, his voice hard with distrust.
"Your job? No," the stag said. "There are plenty of investigators to converse with here. But there is only one Will Graham."
At this, Will hesitated and his instinct faltered. He realized he must have mistaken his gut feeling. The many unknown faces of the masquerade must have put him on edge. He regretted drinking as much wine as he did, but he had needed it to survive this party.
Then, a rooster with a flaming headdress appeared among the zoo of masks. The beak of Will's raven mask tilted up and the man with the stag mask noticed this.
Suddenly, Will's head whipped around as a silver plate clattered on the marble floor near them, also gathering the attention of a few of the dancers, including the butterfly mask. The glasses of red wine the butler had been serving had shattered and tendrils of wine crawled across the shards of broken glass. The man in the pig mask harshly reprimanded him, as he profusely apologized from his knees. Will's eyes narrowed, but his focus left as he felt the brush of the stag's long cloak brush past him.
The man stood in the dim light just beyond the pillars. Will paused before deciding that his desire to discover what lay underneath the stag mask was worth having to find Jack again. So he left the room illuminated by the crystalline chandelier, which carefully watched the dancing floor, to join the stag in the darker hallway.
"I thought perhaps night air might lighten your spirits," the stag explained. He continued down the hallway, his cloak bellowing out behind him. Will followed and the light voice of the violins faded away.
"Don't you think our host might find this rude?" Will asked. The stag smirked.
"I think he would understand."
"You speak as if you're good friends with the king," Will said, walking side by side with the stag. Their synchronized footsteps echoed down the long, empty hallways as they passed portrait after portrait of long dead rulers and court officials. "And you certainly seem to know your way around the palace."
"A good king should be on good terms with all his citizens," the stag mask said. Will couldn't disagree. He'd never met the king, but it wasn't hard for Will to imagine him after walking down the expensive hallways that the king must have found mundanely unimpressive. As a man that threw parties and feasts every day it didn't rain, Will guessed that he must be good friends with excess.
The stag paused outside a door framed by two candelabras. He took one and led Will into the dark room. In the dim light, Will could make out a silk-covered bed, a desk with a row of neat books, and a polished dresser. He had the distinct feeling that he didn't belong here, yet the stag mask walked with an air of familiarity. Will cautiously followed the stag through a glass door.
After the stuffy ballroom, the crisp night air heightened Will's senses. With a deep breath, he gripped the beak of his mask and carefully removed it. His vision no longer restricted, he gazed out at the quiet city from the balcony. The few lights that dotted the streets were unimpressive compared to multitude of stars and the crescent moon against the expanse of the black sky. Will followed the city lights as they slowly dwindled away from the houses near the palace and the impressive opera house to the poorer districts. Against his better judgement, he was drawn to the street where the Ripper murders had taken place. His hands gripped the rough stone balcony.
The stag placed his gloved hand on the balcony, close to Will's. Will glanced down at it and noticed that he'd not taken the stag mask off.
"Are you remembering the Ripper murders?" The stag asked. Will brushed a lock of hair from his eyes as he answered yes.
"The view is stunning, yet it is ruined by the knowledge that there is a killer roaming those darkened streets," the stag said. "Looking for his next victim, someone vulnerable, someone young and healthy, someone from the poor district. Did you ever uncover why?"
"He chose from the poor district so as to avoid extreme repercussions. The amount of importance placed on a murder is an exact correlation to the wealth and influence of the victim," Will explained. He swallowed before adding, "And he wanted someone young and healthy because he was eating them."
"It must have been difficult to find a liver that had not been rotted by overconsumption," the stag said. Will's hand froze as he brushed a piece of his hair behind his ear. They had never revealed that all the victims had been missing their livers. He quickly replayed his strange conversations with the stag, and found a clarity that had been missing all evening. He let his hand rest on the balcony, but he clenched it.
"A masquerade ball is a curious thing, isn't it?" he said. The stag listened closely. "We don't know if we're in a room full of close friends or strangers. And it gives us a certain freedom, an anonymity. Yet, all of this is negated if we reveal our identities lurking beneath the mask."
"An interesting philosophy," the stag said. Will turned to him and watched the amused eyes behind the mask.
"Tell me," Will said. "What's lurking beneath your mask?"
The man smiled and Will could see crinkles appear around his eyes.
"I think it's only fair that if I show you what's beneath my mask, you show me what's beneath yours," the stag said.
Will's face twitched into a frown of confusion and he was suddenly very uncomfortable with his close proximity to the stag's searching eyes. The stag smiled affectionately as Will stepped backward. But, before he could, the stag grabbed his wrist that still rested upon the balcony. Will was pulled off balanced, and with a firm push, the stag knocked him over the edge.
"It was a pleasure to finally meet face to face," he said, and he tossed the raven mask over. It fluttered past Will, its black ribbons waving in the wind.
Will clutched the edge of the balcony, his feet swinging desperately below him. He watched the feet of the man he'd been pursuing for months effortlessly cross the room, his cloak still bellowing out behind him as a last goodbye to Will. But this only filled Will with determination. As he heard the door open and click shut, he pulled himself up and over the balcony.
He didn't allow himself a moment to breath. Instead, he ran across the room and threw open the door. The cloak was nowhere in sight. He raced down the hallway, back towards the ballroom.
He was surprised to find the masquerade still continuing, as if he assumed they'd stop to search for the killer. Scanning the room, he caught sight of the rooster mask. He ran past the butler from before, the man in the pig mask now gone. Will grabbed Jack's shoulder. He looked up happily, then his expression washed away into one of concern.
"Jack, the Ripper, he's here," Will said in between breaths.
"How do you know?" Jack asked, pulling his mask up.
"He found me. Tossed me off a balcony."
"He tried to kill you?" Jack said. Will shook his head.
"No, I don't think he wanted to kill me. He wanted to reveal himself to me, but I'm not sure why. Perhaps to taunt me," Will said. "But I imagine by now he's fled the party."
"You don't think we'll find him?"
"I think it's worth trying," Will said, already scanning the crowd. Jack, too, looked around expectantly. He started nodding.
"I'll go inform the guards," he said, walking back into the crowd and leaving Will alone.
Once again abandoned, Will started to head back to his familiar pillar and await Jack's return, until the trumpets began to sound. He froze as a squire announced His Majesty's arrival. Will grimaced before trying to sneak away.
"And his Majesty cares to take a moment to acknowledge the guest of honor, Sir William Graham."
Will stopped as the crowd around him transformed into a sea of clapping. He turned and bowed his head respectfully. As he raised it, he looked up to the king and he froze. Horrified understanding dawned on him. His Majesty was walking down the carpeted staircase, his red cape trailing behind him. But Will recognized those smirking lips and sly eyes. Replacing his black cloak with a golden crown wouldn't fool him. He stopped before Will, and raised his staff to silence the crowd.
"Thanks to this man, we can once again safely walk the streets at night." The king said, addressing the crowd. Then he turned to Will. "I'm very pleased to have you in my service Will."
Will tried to conceal his shock and concern. His thoughts raced as he struggled to find a solution to his predicament. But finally, he bowed his head to glare at the floor. He was silent as he rose to face the king again.
"I assure you, the streets will be safe again," Will said, giving his words an edge. A butler offered him a glass of wine for a toast, and he took it. The king took one too.
"To King Hannibal," Will said icily. Hannibal smiled.
"To Will."
I hope you enjoyed this! Please leave a review or comment. I'm also considering expanding this into more chapters, so let me know if you'd be interested in that!