Jack the Ripper

Chapter five- Mary Jane Kelly

         Yet again the house became a lonely place once Stan had moved into a house of his own with his new wife and Alexander was almost always out trying to steel things.

         On the night of the eighth of November, Alexander decided that he was ready to pull off a robbery at one of the nearby manor houses.

         It was rather idiotic and way above his experience, I was sure that he would be caught so I went out too.

    “I can handle this, I live for the moment. I know you must understand that.” He said as he left.

         Certain that my first born son would be facing the death penalty by morning; I decided “Jack the ripper” would go out on a bang as well.

         I took to the streets in search of my final victim; I hurried towards Whitechapel carefully considering every streetwalking, disease-ridden prostitute I saw.

         Then I saw something that took me by surprise, Alexander was not breaking into some rich person’s house. He was leaving a prostitutes house on Miller’s Court.

         I stayed back watching him hurry away while she waved him off as though she had nothing to hide.

        A fire of fury and anger filled my thoughts. I warned him of the dangers and she was going to die because he wouldn’t listen.

        I waited a while for her to return to her bed in her squalor house, then I crept into the room without disturbing her.

        Undoubtedly she was a thing of beauty but it was too late to make exceptions especially not for vanity.

        With no need to rush, I stood and watched her sleep for a moment or two; unfortunately for her the idea of leaving her unharmed did not cross my mind for even the tiniest of seconds.

         I took out the knife that had become so accustomed to taking lives rather than its purpose of examining those who are already dead and edged closer to her.

         She awoke as the cold metal met with her delicate neck, she made no attempt to scream or make any kind of sound at all, instead her bright blue eyes shot open so that she could see the man that would remove her from life.

         Disappointed by her un-fearing reaction and fuelled by wrath I slashed my knife right through her neck, almost severing her head from her body.

         Her head fell to the left as her blood drowned her bed sheets.

         The room was so dark that I made a fire just to be able to see what I was doing; she had been sleeping naked so I lit the pile of clothes that she had left on the floor with the flame of the single candle available.

         I dug my knife into the abdomen revealing the cavity then I removed the intestines, the kidneys and the liver came free easy enough, I threw them to the side too.

         The uterus, (all scared and damaged from disease and pregnancy) I ripped that out as though it was meat for a dog.

         Next the blade cut her face, over and over again, she didn’t deserve to be pretty and she didn’t deserve to be remembered well either.

         Once I was done I looked around the room (I had turned it into a bloody mess) and I saw a necklace that I recognised to be one that Alexander had said that he was going to give to the girl he was seeing.

         I took a horse and cart ride home this time, it was a great risk as I was covered in her blood but the driver believed the “bad delivery of birth” story.