Hi, I'm Lizzie, I'm 23 and I love to write- stories, poems, blogs, anything really- and this is a blog to document all of that, so I hope you enjoy reading some of my favourite pieces. The stories are in parts so you can follow your favourite story as it progresses- they all have specific labels at the bottom so if you click it, it'll take to all the passages from that story- and I promise to try and write the next parts regularly. :)

Monday, 5 May 2014

Rose Manor- Part 6

“Please could you give us more detail, Mr Ferver,” the policeman asked again, exasperated.
Mr H. Ferver had been admitted into hospital a day and a half ago and had been immediately rushed into urgent care, his status described as critical.
He had received multiple stab wounds and his right arm completely hacked off from the elbow down. But it was his split lip which was also slashed at the left corner as was his nostril and his right eye completely gouged out that related the attack to the one gruesome culprit that could be linked with such retching trademarks- Victoria Black.
Signalling to his assistant to continue writing down the conversation, Officer Jacques stated, “So, the attack occurred on the 18th of August 1907, in Grenwich, Yorkshire, England. In the Black Manor of Grenwich. The victim, Mr H. Ferver of Kirkby, Yorkshire, England, was issued into critical care of Grenwich Hospital 49 minutes following the attack and was rescued by police officers, 27 yards from the scene of the crime. Police officers failed to arrest suspects of the Manor due to, erm, the, err, private property, umm,” Jacques sighed and shook his head, adding after a few moments, “private property refusal of entry.”
Disappointment and shame swelled through his body as he admitted that they hadn’t caught Victoria Black, or even tried to, out of fear.
“Could the victim describe the attacker and the attack please,” he continued, addressing the bandaged, bruised man in the bed.
A groan escaped his stitched mouth, “It wasn’t, Vic-” he gasped desperately. “Him, it was him, the whole time.”
Jacques sighed in annoyance, frustration and exhaustion at the man’s inability to cooperate, “You mean she…?” he prompted, his eyes drooping.
“No!” the man argued as strongly as he could manage, but only surprising Officer Jacques a little, for he had been earlier informed that the victim was quite probably in shock. “Sir, man, husband!” he stumbled around the words, trying to get them out of his mouth quickly enough for the last two to leave, “Charles Black!”

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