Spot's POV:

Just a whore. Just like a whore. Leading me on. Making me think she was respectable.

What a liar.

What a whore.

I almost hated her...but every time that I hated her, the image of her amber eyes, so frightened and unloved, flashed in my mind.

I doused myself with cold water and tried to think about something, anything, else. Pacing in the main room of the lodging house, I flung my hat across the room and collapsed on a rickety chair, searching my mind for something to take my thoughts off of...of...of that whore.

But all that came to mind was my other problem, Panther.

So now, I was stuck with two problems- Panther and "Miss Eleanor".

The image of her eyes flashed again in my mind...and I sat up bolt upright. I closed my eyes, holding the mental image of Ella's eyes up...

...And then held the image of Panther's eyes up next to it.

My eyes flying open, I shot up out of the chair and flung my burning gaze around the room in search of something to destroy.

Chairs are extremely good for breaking; especially the one I had just been sitting on. I smashed it to bits.

Why the heck had I not seen it before? Panther and Ella...their eyes...exactly the same.

Identical.

Could they really be one and the same?


Ella's POV:

In my few sane (or partially sensible) moments, I would or could remember that I could never kill Panther.

But when I became furious...I really thought I could destroy him; although, of course, nobody could until Spot was killed.

And so I tore wildly through the streets, in desperate pursuit of...

Myself.

Yes, myself.

But no, not myself.

How could I be the same person as that monster?

Yet I was.

But I wasn't!

I couldn't be.

But...but...

If I could explain it to you, I would. Mostly, this is what it's like:

Imagine that you're doing something horrible...like stealing something. And you're in a long, long hall; it's rather dark. There's a mirror at the end of the hall.

Suddenly, you look up and catch sight of someone robbing the house you're in.

And suddenly, you're filled with righteous indignation; horror; anger. You storm down to the end of the hall to stop the person...only to realize that it's yourself.

I really can't describe it any better than that. It's really like I'm a totally separate person...it's strange. It hurts.

Since I am Panther...you could say I'm the one who has been doing horrible things to Spot. But when I'm doing them, I really am Panther. I'm not Miss Eleanor.

But then...all I was intent on was finding Panther and killing him. I was unaware of the fact that no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't.

My wanderings brought me all through the streets of Brooklyn, and then, unwittingly near the Brooklyn Bridge.

Spot Conlon's territory.

I didn't think of that, though. I was only thinking of one thing: Killing Panther.


Spot's POV:

I needed to cool down, so I headed to the docks. Being at the docks always made me calm; the water was so beautiful and it was all so... not exactly peaceful, but just so right.

As I walked, I tried to sort out my thoughts. I couldn't succeed.

My main thought was that I had to kill her somehow. Or get her in jail. Something.

I took my usual seat on my "throne". Cane resting atop my legs, I stared pensively out into the water.

Suddenly, I was disturbed by a scream.

I looked up quickly...

...To see Ella...

...Killing herself.


Yeah, the chapters just keep getting darker! I wish I could keep them from being dark...*sigh of frustration* But yeah. I'm sorry. So...tell me what you think about the mystery!