The wind howled through the night sky, sending shutters swinging, doors creaking and the hair of a woman whipping around her pale face. She stood for a minute, looking carefully around before continuing down the street, darkness enveloping her. The tall, shadowy houses loomed high above her, closing in and sheltering her from the wind. As the wind howled through the street once more, the stench of decaying rats and food was thrown over her and she coughed, trying to breathe fresh air through the suffocating fog that surrounded her. She blundered on and finally staggered out into an open street. She breathed heavily, taking in all that surrounded her. The houses were smaller here, and the moon had risen high above them, illuminating damp and festering walls. She straightened up and the moonlight fell upon her.

She was tall, with long, dark hair that hung down her back fell freely in long tresses. She wore a long red dress, the hem of which was wet from dragging along the ground. An old shawl hung across her shoulders and down her arms to keep the cold out and she clutched the top together with her pale slender hands. She shivered slightly as she walked on through the streets, and wrinkled her nose a little as she passed bins and drains. Her eyes took in the familiar sight of the buildings as she walked down past a now silent and empty bar and kicked at an empty sherry bottle. It flew through the air in front of her and shattered as it hit the floor. The girl cursed shrilly as shards of glass flew everywhere and one piece drove itself into her skin. She clutched at her hand, and dug out the splinter. As blood leaked from her cut she walked on, muttering quietly. She was nearly home now, and was just about to turn down the alleyway that lead to her home when she heard something. It sent shivers racing up and down her spine and she shut her eyes tight as though she thought she had imagined it. Nevertheless, the sound echoed through the night, and poured into her ears. Then she turned wildly around. Where was it coming from? Whose shriek was it so full of fear? She ran out of the alley and back up the street she had just come down, clutching the shawl around her shoulders to stop it flying away, she turned again and raced down another dark alleyway. Then she stopped, she was breathing hard and fast, trying to remember where the sound had come from. she turned again and walked slowly down the road that crossed in front of her and looked down another alley. Then she stopped. The breath left her. Her eyes were wide and glowing in the moonlight, and her arms fell limply at her sides, and the shawl fell with them. She was looking down into a cobbled courtyard, at the front of another inn. The smell of alcohol and smoke was still hovering in the air and she could see some rats darting around in the alleyway. But she also saw a woman; she was lying in the centre of the courtyard with an arm covering her face and the other lying on her stomach. She walked slowly forwards, her legs wavering unsteadily. She stumbled into the courtyard and knelt down beside the body her hands covering her mouth, and her eyes glistening. Her mind was frozen with shock and fear, her hands were shaking as she lifted her arm from her face and a single tear rolled down her face as she gazed down at hers. She looked young and pretty, no doubt one of the local brothel girls, but she could barely tell. Her face had been lacerated and torn so much so that the features were barely recognisable. Her arms and torso too had been slashed and ripped and totally mutilated. Blood still oozed from her wounds and her clothes were steadily soaking up the slowly growing pool of crimson blood that surrounded her. She gasped, trying to keep back the tears that were now falling steadily down her cheeks. She staggered to feet and stood for a second before turning and running back down the alley. She ran along the avenue.
“Someone, help me,” she cried, “My God help.”
She retched over a wall and breathed deeply as the tears of fear, pain and shock continued to stream down her face. She walked forwards and turned again, now facing a white building with iron bars surrounding its perimeter and a sign above the door saying ‘Police Station’. She ran forwards and lurched through the door and her head began to whirl. She saw an officer and stumbled towards him.
“What’s this then?” he enquired calmly as she came towards him. The woman tripped and fell forwards. The officer caught her and squatted next to her on the floor. By this time she was almost in complete panic. “Are you alright miss?” He looked concerned and waited patiently as she desperately searched for her voice.
“I found a woman, she’s dead, sir, dead. I couldn’t believe it, she’s just laying there, sir, blood everywhere . . .” But she found she couldn’t go on. She sat there sobbing loudly then shook violently and retched again, but the officer took her by the arms and brought her head back up with a quick jerk.
“What did you say, miss? A lady? Dead? Now listen carefully miss, where did you find her?” The light had gone from his eyes now, and his face held an expression of panic and sternness. “Speak up girl.” He shouted and he shook her slightly. She looked up and spoke again, her voice weak and feeble compared to the officers.
“Up by the Rose and Thorn Inn, in the little courtyard out front. . . I . . .” she trailed off into a whisper as she collapsed in a dead faint.