Jack the Ripper

Chapter three- Elizabeth Stride

         By the end of the month Stan was spending most of his time with Nellie; by the way they were going they could have easily been married by the end of October.

         The house was dark and eerily quiet with no one but me about it, Drakul occasionally flew in but he was mostly a hindrance, smashing up my possessions as he hunted.

         On the twenty-seventh of September a letter was received by the Central News Agency, claiming to be written by me but my hand had no link to such artefact.

         It according to the papers it read:

“Dear Boss,

I keep on hearing the police have caught me but they won’t fix me just yet. I have laughed when they look so clever and talk about being on the right track.

 I am down on whores and I shant quit ripping them till I do get buckled. Grand work the last job was. I gave the lady no time to squeal. I love my work and want to start again. You will soon hear of me with my funny little games.

The next job I do I shall clip the lady’s ears off and send to the police officers just for jolly wouldn't you.

Keep this letter back till I do a bit more work, and then give it out straight. My knife's so nice and sharp I want to get to work right away if I get a chance.

Good Luck. Yours truly

 Jack the Ripper

PS They say I'm a doctor now. Ha ha”

         I was quite honoured that someone would want to taunt the police and the public because of my work but it could quite easily lead to more hoax letters and people copying my killings which I could not allow.

    “What do you think to that letter in the papers?” Stan asked that evening, he seemed to be pleased with it.

    “Did you write it? I think it’s ridiculous that I’d be telling this kind of information to the police. I like the name though “Jack the ripper”, that better be a coincidence.” I said as I realised that it was quite possible that Stan could be the writer.

    “I didn’t write the letter, I’d bet it’s just the newspapers trying to get another story out of it because no one else has died.” He suggested.

    “Well it’s time for that to change I think, I’m sick of being stuck in here or at work doing the same things day in and day out.” I decided.

    “Jack, I thought you were done with it. What if you are caught? Why can’t you leave them alone now? You’ve made your point and nothing has changed.” He questioned.

    “Exactly, nothing has changed, they are still out there every night and they are still spreading their diseases like there’s no tomorrow. I’m the one who has to treat them when they expect the hospital to help them.” I said with my tone filled with frustration.

         On the twenty-ninth I decided that I could no longer sit at home knowing that there were things that would benefit London better to be doing.

         I went to a Whitechapel public house and drank a glass of brandy. This was the best way to spot a victim as most of them drank away any money they earn in these places.

         At around midnight I followed a woman out of the pub, she could barely stand on her own two feet, and she fell flat out to the ground every few steps. She was the perfect victim.

         Unfortunately someone had been waiting for her a street away from the pub (her husband or her brother perhaps) they carried her into their house forcing me to continue my search.

         Just after half past twelve I saw a woman on Berner Street, she was alone and she seemed to have recently finished with a customer. She was going to have to be my next kill because that other got away.

    “Hello Doctor, you after my services?” she asked as I walked towards her and she prepared herself.

    “Shut it, there isn’t time for conversation. The people will be coming out of that meeting soon.” I said in a hurried tone as I slapped her hard around the face.

    “You are Jack the ripper aren’t you?” she said as tears rolled down her miserable face.

         I strangled her and slit her throat, the blood poured from her dirty neck covering my left hand that was stopping her from limping to the pavement.

         Soon I noticed a man walking past on the other side of the street, he looked like one of the local Jewish community that many people were suspicious of.

    “Lipski, get away from here!” I shouted in a successful attempt to scare him away but I fled the scene in case he saw enough.  

         Being unable to finish my work was aggravating, I could have killed the man who disrupted me but he got out of sight too fast.

         The streets were ill-ly lit and the air was chilly, pollution was at a dangerously high level as usual but I wasn’t willing to stop for anything.

         Before long I found my next kill, she was looked quite young (the streets had clearly been kind to her) she was a prostitute regardless of her looks, no one was going to interrupt me this time.