Page 5 of Taken By the Ripper
However, he’d lost a lot of blood. If he were to survive, he needed care and rest.
She placed a folded, square cloth against his neck and gently wrapped another cloth around to hold it in place. Because she couldn’t apply too much pressure to the wound without blocking his airway, she wasn’t certain he would recover.
But she would try to save him, nonetheless.
Just as soon as she finished cleaning the dried blood from the man’s skin, a woman walked in supporting what looked to be herten-year-old daughter, a wadded cloth pressed to her arm. Likely something needing stitches.
Over the next several hours, she worked tirelessly suturing wounds, splinting bones, and administering medicine to the sick. Her younger sister, Norma, helped where she could. Despite a lack of love for the profession, Norma offered aid without complaint.
All while Mazie was out with friends doing who knew what? When Clara had been eighteen, she’d spent every waking moment at her father’s side learning the craft. At eighteen, Mazie had no sense of direction. Nor did she seem to care.
Clara muttered grumpily to herself as she cleaned her workspace as the sun descended behind the city, and darkness became an unwelcome companion filled with anticipation and dread. Would any of her patients pass in the night? Would someone barge in demanding medical attention when all she wanted was to sleep for more than a few hours at a time? Would another patient sneak around the house, trying to find something to steal?
It wouldn’t be the first time and certainly not the last. Each of them slept with their doors locked in three places and with a weapon beneath their pillows just in case. But she made sure to keep their own side of the house locked to prevent wandering if possible.
After checking on all her overnight patients, she stood in the foyer with a lantern held in her hand. The flickering candlelight illuminated a still and quiet house aside from the occasional hacking cough and creaking cot.
No one called out in pain. No one demanded her attention.
All was quiet.
For a long moment, she gazed out the window into the darkness. City lamps drew her attention to the world outside, away from what had felt like her prison for years. Very rarely didshe leave the house. Because when she left, people died. Not only that, but she and her sisters relied on the money she made doing physician’s work.
Despite her longing to leave, to step into the world outside the hospital, she was stuck. Just like her father had been stuck and engrossed in his work until the day he’d died.
Shaking herself out of the past before she allowed it to consume her, she climbed the stairs to her room and slid all three locks into place.
She turned around.
And froze.
Darkness permeated the atmosphere from the open window. A light breeze brushed against the filmy curtains cascading toward the wooden floors like silky water. But what truly caught her attention…
Three gouge marks lay on either side of the sill as if an animal had dug its claws into the wood and dragged them along the frame.
Her gaze darted toward the wall nearest the window, and she spotted another three gouge marks in the leafy green wallpaper. Something or someone had been in here recently.
“Is anyone there?” she called out. Her shaking hands caused the candle flame to cast dancing shadows across the room, creating what seemed like dozens of monsters clawing their way through the dark corners.
She crossed the room and threw open her armoire. Nothing.
Next, she searched the closet, under her bed, and inspected the outside of the window for any sign of whoever had done this. She didn’t quite know how, but she needed to protect her sisters from…from…whatever this was. It had been in their house, which meant she needed to search the premises for more gouge marks.
Even if her heart trembled at the thought.
She nearly turned away from the window when she discovered something small and sharp sticking out of the corner of the sill, lodged between two pieces of wood. Pinching her fingers over the object, she wiggled it free and inspected it close to her face.
Small. Black. Pointed. With the faintest curve… And impeccably strong, as it didn’t break when she tried to bend it.
It was a claw. Or a fingernail. Or perhaps something in between. But she was certain this was what had caused the gouge marks.
“Ah!” She hissed through her teeth when the tip of the claw pierced her finger. Moments later, a screech echoed somewhere below, sending her heart leaping to her throat in fright.
She rushed to close the window, twisting the locks into place and sliding the curtains together before pulling her robe tighter over herself. Something had been in here. Or perhapssomeone.
And by the look of it… She wasn’t even sure it was human.
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