A/N Chapters with smut: 8, 9, 10 (I will keep updating this as more are added.)

T/W Mention of self-harm and drugs.

You had met Alastor at a New Year party. Welcoming in the beginning of the 1920's. The country had been recovering from the world war and the 1920's welcomed in an era of decadence and indulgence. You were what the British tabloids would refer to as 'A bright, young thing'. A term that had been used to describe those coming from wealth who enjoyed the finer things in life. Some might say a hedonistic lifestyle. However, your taste for champagne and cocaine had not come from a wish to enhance life but to numb yourself.

From a young age, you had thoughts that could be considered 'unsavory'. When you had been only 11 years old your father had walked in on you slicing open your fingertips with a broken glass. Something about blood had always fascinated you, you loved watching the crimson beads form and would watch them roll down from your fingers to your wrist. The deeper you cut, the further down they would roll. Apparently, this was not the behavior of a lady and he sent you to a private school, a catholic school. The sisters that ran the school had administered strict, physical punishments. That never bothered you, in fact, you quickly grew to enjoy it. Maybe this is what had led to your string of failed relationships. They could never handle your appetites and you would leave behind you a trail of broken hearts. Moving on to the next man, hoping they would be able to satisfy you. But they never did. That was until you met Alastor.

You hadn't remembered most of that night. A cocktail of alcohol and drugs often leads to nights you do not remember. But something about him had stood out, as though you had met a kindred spirit of sorts. He had been handsome, charming, and well-educated. Although you had not heard him on the radio, you were later informed he was making waves in the medium, quickly gaining a large following. Especially from the ladies who would swoon at his voice. You would admit it was pleasant to listen to but you weren't the kind of lady to swoon so quickly.

However, you did find yourselves bumping into one another more frequently. A friend's party, a charity ball, a wedding. Each time you would talk briefly before someone else would come ask him to join them to dance. You were just waiting for an invitation to his engagement party that never came. For all the attention he garnered, and all the ladies he danced with, he always went home alone. Something about this intrigued you. You made it a mission at the next event to find out why. As a socialite, that next event came swiftly.

When you arrived, all eyes were on you. You wore a loose scarlet dress embellished with intricate patterns of black beading around the bust that followed into the beaded fringe. That was the new style of the era and you loved it. As you would walk, the fringe of the dress sways with your steps, giving you an ethereal fluidity to your movements. Throughout your first hour at the party, you had a handful of men come to ask you for a dance but tonight you had set your eyes on another.

At first you bided your time, waiting for him to come over and make the pleasantries but found yourself quickly growing impatient when he didn't. You finally took it upon yourself to walk over to him. He had just finished talking to Anna so now was an opportune moment before another girl cut in. "Are you not coming to talk to me tonight?" You'd almost snapped at him which had caught him off guard as during your previous conversations, you'd always been courteous. "Well, I saw you when you walked in and dressed like that, I assumed you'd have the attention of every other man here tonight." His flattery quickly defused the annoyance that had been bubbling up. "Well, I can always make time for you." You said keeping your voice light and breathy. "Well, then it should be my honor to talk to you since you've made such an effort to make time for me, perhaps over a dance." He offered and you accepted.

However, whilst he had impressed you with his moves on the dancefloor, it was hardly the place for conversation. You relayed this to him and the pair of you slipped through the crowds. Finding a quiet place was near damn impossible and the two of you eventually settled on slipping outside into the night air. The burning question lingered in the back of your mind but you were certain to keep your cool as you had done with all men. Neediness was something you found unattractive in a man and so you had figured it was in women too. "So was there a particular topic you wished to discuss or just small talk." Had he seen through your ruse?

"Well, we always find time to catch up at such events. When I can pry you away from the other ladies, that is." Speaking of such things with a casual offhandedness. "Well, i'm all yours now." He purred out. You were not certain but when he spoke there was always a flirtatious undertone to his voice. "When you talk like that I can see why the ladies love you. However, I can't help but notice that you manage to go home without any of them on your arm come the end of the night." You trivially drop into the conversation. "I didn't expect you of all people to be noticing me. Especially considering I rarely see you go home without a gentleman on your arm." He taunted back at you.

"Would you expect a lady to walk home alone when there is a killer on the loose? I have been listening to your broadcasts after all. You do like to go into all those grizzly details in your reports." You wouldn't admit it aloud but you had found yourself enjoying those parts the most. "Well if you like I have a solution to both our issues." He had piqued your curiosity. "And what would that solution be." You ask. "Well, I could always escort you home." His honeyed tone and bold statement stirred something inside you. Most men danced around such a topic with you. Maybe your family name, they thought you were a respectable lady or maybe they just viewed you as too fragile to be so forward. "Hmm and how do I know you're not the killer? You do seem to know all the gruesome details to all the cases." You jested. "You'll just have to let me walk you home and see if you survive the night." He kept his tone light and humourous but there was a glint to his eyes. A hint of danger.

The night went on, the both of you danced with multiple different partners but somehow would end up working your way back to one another, joining for a dance until someone else wanted to cut in. However as the night drew to a close, the music slowed in tempo and usually that was your sign to leave. If your mother had taught you anything before your father had her locked up. It was that you should always leave a party earlier than you want to. It was bad form to outstay your welcome and it was a rule you always followed. You looked over the room, trying to locate Alastor but he proved to be elusive. You were not going to go seek him out.

You said your farewells to Daisy and headed to the door but were startled by a hand placed on your lower back. "Shall we?" Alastor's smooth voice rang out from behind you. "And where have they been hiding you? I hope you haven't been dragged into the cloakroom by a drunken lady with lowered inhibitions?" He chuckled at your statement. "For a lady, you have a filthy imagination. Although should I be offended by your assumption they would need lowered inhibitions?" He had taken your insult on the chin with decorum. "Well you do have your charms, you're pretty easy on the eyes and I can certainly see the appeal but most of the people who attend these kinds of events are from old money. Not working class." You had wanted to see how long he could keep up this gentlemanly facade, how far you could push him. "And old money started with the working class if you go far enough down the line." His response brought a smile to your face as he continued to rise to your challenge and doing it with a smile, a devilish smile at that. "Well then surely your great-grandchildren might have a place at such events." You scoffed. "Well if I were to take your hand in marriage then I would not have to wait so long and our children be invited to such events." He had once again managed to catch you off guard with his response. A level of confidence that almost bordered on arrogance.

The january night air was cool, not uncomfortably so but still enough to the point where a breeze would bring goose pimples to spread across your arms. You pull your hands to the tops of your arms trying to bring some warmth to them. For a moment you don't notice Alastor had stopped walking alongside you, not until you feel something placed over your shoulders. "I said I would get you home safely, can't have you catching a cold now can we?" You had to admit it had been a sweet gesture. You slip your arms into the jacket and button it up, placing your hand in the jacket pockets to keep them warm.

However, you brush against something hard and cold. You pull it out of the pocket to find a case trapper knife with a bone handle. "What's this?" You softly whisper. Alastor who was now a few steps ahead of you. "I think the proper response to such a gesture is to say thank you." As he turns, his eyes focus on the knife in your hand of which you have now flicked out. "Oh, that! Well as you said, there is a killer on the loose, can't be too careful." You look him up and down, his slender, wiry frame. "Mhmm, I'm so sure you and this tiny little knife are going to do so much damage." You jeer at him. "It's not the size of the weapon, it's how you use it." He replies not missing a beat. "I'm sure I'm not the first lady you've told that to." As the words leave your mouth you see the corners of his mouth twist up into a smile.

He takes the blade from your hand and pushes you up against the alley wall. Placing the knife to the side of your neck. "This is the carotid artery, even a small stab here would lead you to bleed out rapidly." He moved the knife down, resting the point between your cleavage. "This would be your aorta, just above your heart. However, not a good place to stab as whilst it is where the main blood flow of the heart is. It is protected by the sternum." He trails it further down, catching on the beads of your dress. "Though if you move to here, this is the thoracic aorta. Another quick way to bleed someone out." He traces the blade lower still, now reaching past the hem of your dress as he lifts it slightly and places the blade on your inner thigh. "And finally, the iliac artery." The sensation of the knife on your skin was intoxicating.

"Do you often spend nights telling women who you could cut them open and bleed them out in dark alleyways?" He pulls the knife away from you, flicking it closed once more. "I can't say I've ever made a habit of it and I certainly don't give demonstrations. So consider yourself very lucky." He flashes you a smile and you had to admit you had grown quite fond of his smile. "Perhaps I'll get lucky again tonight." You whisper salaciously. "Luck is like lightning, don't expect it to strike twice. At least not tonight." He replied with a playful wink.

As you approached your house, a spacious 3 floored, colonial home with intricately detailed entrances, cornices, windows, and lavish manicured gardens. You caught an expression on Alastor's face that you couldn't quite place. Something akin to surprise. You were aware he was of humble beginnings and he was most likely aware of your station in life it was perhaps just dawning on him, the kind of wealth your family had. You were stuck with dread that the playful Alastor that you had grown to like, would now fade away. Like so many other suitors, the conversations would dull as they felt they now had to act a certain way around you.

You reach the door and he dips into a bow with a flourish of his hand. "Well, I believe I have escorted you home now. So I will wish you adieu." He turns to head towards the gates of the property but you grab his sleeve. "You forgot your jacket." You unbutton it and slip it off, roughly folding it in half as you hand it over. "Oh and I suppose I should give you your payment for escorting me home safely. Even if I was briefly held at knife point by a dangerous man. Your voice was soft and flirtatious. "There is no need for payment, i'm just glad you didn't get into too much trouble with this 'dangerous man'" He chuckled. You lean into him. "I think I would have quite enjoyed getting into trouble with him though."

"Keep talking like that and maybe next time you will." His Trans-Atlantic accent slipped slightly. You proceed to lean in closer until your lips are just a breath away from his. "So will you let me pay you thanks?" For a moment he seems as though he is going to lean into the kiss but instead places one softly on your cheek. "You've provided me with quite the entertaining night, that is more than payment enough." He pulls away and this time you don't stop him but instead watch him walk away.

You entered your house, the silence was deafening. For all the fine furnishings you had placed, painted figures in frames. None of it could shake the hollow desolation that plagued the halls. 'An entertaining night' You thought back to yourself. He had provided that and then some. Your fingers traced over each point his knife had touched. Thoughts of blood flowing, passed through your mind, they had been absent for so long now but tonight they came back in abundance. You tried to shake them but even as you settled into your empty bed they were your last thoughts before drifting off to sleep.