Memories

Chessmaster

Disclaimer: What do you think?

If you want to use Tora, or any of my other characters, PM me.

Very early morning- 9th November 1888- Whitechapel, London

'Jack' walked slowly down the street towards Primrose Street. Never run from the scene of the crime. This one had been easy. Then the woman stepped out of the alley. She was wearing a long woollen cloak that obscured her face, and woollen gloves. She tilted her head forward.

"Good sir, would you be able to escort me home?"

Fool. With the Ripper at large, asking a stranger to walk her home. Another victim tonight. Her accent was foreign; Slavic, or even Asian.

"Where would home be, my good lady?" Mocking, making fun of her precise English.

"Bonhill Street. Is too great a detour?"

"No miss. Not too far out of my way."

"Toda."

"You foreign?"

"Forgive me. I spoke Hebrew."

"You Jewish?"

"Ken. That means yes."

"How Jewish?"

"How can you have shades of a religion?"

She sounded posh. Her clothes weren't fashionable, simply practical. Yet she spoke with perfect grammar.

"You a nob?"

"No. I was raised in a simple farming family. My birth parents however? A different matter entirely."

"Whatcha mean?"

"It's complicated."

She was walking down the side alleys now. Jack wondered why she was going this way. Bonhill Street was west, not north. Then she turned.

"We are here."

"This ain't Bonhill."

"You are guilty of murdering Mary Ann Nichols, Annie Chapman, Elizabeth Stride, Catherine Eddowes and Mary Jane Kelly and mutilating their bodies."

"I ain't!"

And then the cloak fell off and Jack couldn't run, couldn't scream as the black angel stood before him. Solid silver eyes stared at him; midnight wings sealed his escape routes. Silver hair was pulled into a tight bun. A knife was passed from the demon's tail to her left hand. Another cack-hander, just like him. Was this thing an angel, come to avenge the women? Or a devil, come to take him home?

"I am the Shadow, Mr 'the Ripper'. Or to give me my full name, Justice's Shadow. I deal with the things my dear old master can't with the blindfold on."

And the knife was plunged into his chest and Jack fell to the dirt ground, lifeless.

Etana began cleaning up quickly and efficiently. And then she stopped and when she spoke again, there was a warmth in her voice.

"It's been a while."

"A little over fifty years. Since that little…debacle with the Hellfire Club."

Etana raised an eyebrow.

"Why are you interrupting me while I'm working?"

"The Ripper? Good one. I was actually here to suggest you take a holiday."

"What?"

"Oh, you know, a decade or so out of the job? I'll take over if you want?"

"Why?"

"What? Does there have to be a reason? I just think you deserve a break."

"There's always a reason with you. Everything is one big chess game for you."

Tora laughed as she stepped out of the shadows. She held up her hands.

"Oh, it's so much more than chess I'm playing. Seriously, I do think you should go on holiday. That place in Canada, isn't it meant to be nice at this time of year?"

Etana wiped the knife clean and slammed it back into the sheath in her boot.

"If you tell me why you want me to do this, I'll consider it. I've still not forgotten the Kabasi incident."

"Are you still upset about that? I rescued you, didn't I?"

Etana glared at her.

"And I limped for eight years. You could have got there before they started the torture."

"Fine, fine, the Kabasi wasn't my best day. I need you to go to Canada because a boy will need tutoring."

"Another piece in your game?"

Tora laughed.

"Shall we walk and talk? The police will be on the alert this morning."

Etana nodded sharply and the two walked off together as Tora explained exactly what Etana had to do.

"Circles within circles. Tora always liked chess. It looks like she took to something even bigger."

"Oh, during this time she was doing this, she began a master."

"You know, I always suspected Tora to have a secret manipulator deep inside her."

"She tended not to rely on plans. Plans got the way of real life. Much better to see what happens and then turn it into a victory. She was spectacular at that."

The young man of about 17 screamed in the forest. Etana felt a flash of kinship and flicked her wings to land beside him. The boy didn't seem afraid. His eyes stared up at her.

"Are you here to kill me?"

"And why would I do that, little one?"

"I want to die. Rose chose Smitty. He's like my father but I love her. Will you kill me?"

"I don't kill, little one. I protect. But I'll teach you if you want me to."

The boy turned to look at her and she saw the ice-blue eyes boring into her with an intensity that surprised her.

"Why?"

"Because we are the same. Because you would be the best student I could ever take."

"You're a teacher?"

"Among other things."

"I had a teacher. Miss Douglas. She was amazing. She made me laugh. At times I thought she was more of a mother than my own mother."

"Then come little one and I will show you. Show you how to protect those you care about."

She held out a hand and glanced over to see the cat sitting in the tree nearby, silver eyes fixed on them.

"How sweet."

"I'd say it was slightly freaky. Would she have done that if Tora hadn't told her to?"

"Probably not. But she grew to care for him."

A few days passed. Then the boy came running to her once more, this time crying.

"Little one, what is wrong?"

"I killed her. I killed her. She got between me and Dog. I didn't mean to kill her, it was an accident."

Etana didn't say anything but simply held the boy close to her as he cried.

"Come. You can stay with me until you are ready."

He snuffled into her chest and she smoothed his hair back, humming an old folk-song to try and sooth him.

"Sad. Sad but sweet."

Cookie shifted through the stuff and smirked when he found the necklace. He flung the diary on the fire and was about to leave when a cold, harsh voice spoke.

"Going through a dead woman's belongings, Mr Malone? Now you can't play Peeping Tom anymore."

He looked up. A woman stood in the doorway, her figure outlined by the moonlight, but her features in shadow.

"Who are you?"

She didn't answer but walked to the fire and plunged her hand in, pulling out the smouldering diary.

"Your cruelty knew no bounds when you cast this book outside. In this whole God-forsaken mudhole, you tried to burn the most precious thing of all. Truth."

But he was staring at the hand which had been surrounded by fire yet bore not marks.

"Who… Who are you?"

And she turned towards him and he saw her face. Four scars ripped down over her eye, cheek and mouth. Her hair was fiery orange, marred with a black streak and her eyes were like liquid gold in the firelight.

"I've gone by many names. Weapon X-ii. Tigress. Dragon. God. Demon. Freak. Human. Marie and Tora. I'm Logan's wife. Well… I will be his wife from his perspective, but from mine, we've been married for quite a while. Now hand over the necklace."

Cookie stepped backwards.

"You can't stop me."

"Mr Malone, I've fought gods. A fool camp cook poses no challenge to one trained to kill since birth. And equipped by Mother Nature with perfect weapons."

Gleaming cold metal suddenly protruded from her hands with a 'chikt' sound. The heavy man took another step backwards.

"You're like him!"

"A little. But he's just human. I'm a few steps further on."

And she flung her hands out and a solid wall of water pinned him to the opposite side of the cabin. She stalked forward and plucked the necklace out of his hands before twisting her left hand in a curling gesture and the water froze to ice, encasing him. She sat down neatly and opened the diary, glancing through it, apparently waiting for something or someone.

Her patience was rewarded when Smitty stumbled into the hut. He looked from Cookie to the woman in confusion.

"What the…?"

She got up and held out a hand, the necklace laced between her fingers.

"I found this turd trying to steal Rose's belongings. I…stopped him. I managed to resist lethal force. I thought you'd like the pleasure of that yourself, especially when I tell you that he used to follow her to the lake to watch her bath."

Smitty's mouth dropped open.

"Who… Who are you?"

"Call me Marie Douglas. Rose may have mentioned me. Or perhaps not."

She raised the hand containing the diary.

"This is meant for Logan. I will take it for him. And you can have her necklace. She would want you to have it."

"Wait! What are you?"

She paused, cocked her head to one side to consider it.

"Finally, someone asks a sensible question!"

He gulped and she smiled sadly.

"I am… I am the Tyger."

"What?"

She closed her eyes and began to chant in a low sing-song voice.

"Tyger! Tyger! burning bright,
In the forests of the night.
What immortal hand or eye,
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?"

She sighed.

"If I could answer that, I would be a whole lot better off than I am right now."

She held out the necklace again.

"Take it. She loved you. Never forget that."

His fingers brushed hers as he took the chain. And her eyes bore into him.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For helping him discover what true honour is. For being the father he needed. For shaping him for the better. You may not know it, but Logan will one day be one of the greatest heroes the world has ever seen."

And she slowly faded away, like a mirage in the haze.

"Er… Am I missing something?"

"Don't worry, Jean. Long story, and I'm trying to keep this to a minimum. Ask Death. She'll be happy to explain, when I'm not as busy. Or you can just pop in every now and then to see me in the new omniverse."

"Yeah… About that… I still think you're making a mistake…"

"Please, don't try and dissuade me. I made my choice. Respect it."