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prologue

Jack

December 1888




The rain had subsided leaving the streets slick and glistening in the darkness. The night was filled with bawdy characters happily drinking their dreary existences away. Transactions of sex for money were solidified with quick alley way thrusts and a quick wipe of lady parts. This was Whitechapel, the place where misery came to feed.

This side of life was alien to Jack. He was accustomed to every comfort life had to offer. These streets of despair simply a place where he came for sport. It was his hunting ground. These nightly jaunts were what he lived for.

This was where he made history.

Newspapers clamored to tell the story of his work. The city…no the whole of England gasped in fear at his art yet they couldn’t turn away. Despite themselves they thirsted for more and he would deliver.

The images of his latest victim, Mary Jane Kelly, were all people where talking about. But they hadn’t seen anything yet. Tonight, he would do something so depraved they would never forget.

Jack plucked his watch-chain from his vest pocket and glanced at the time. It was eleven forty-five. Time to start the work. He tapped his cane against the side of the carriage and the driver pulled to a halt.

“I will meet you back here in hour, Kilgore.” He said to his driver as he stepped from the carriage and strolled away. To those who he came into contact with he was nothing more than a well-to-do gentleman dressed in a Chesterfield-styled overcoat with a shoulder cape fastened to his neck. A derby style hat sat rakishly atop his head of dark curling hair.

His footfalls echoed against the cobblestoned street as the gas-light cast against the humorless smile on his lips. The cloying stench of poverty assaulted him when he turned the corner. There four prostitutes loitered outside the brothel.

“Hi luv.” One of the wretched creatures called out to him. She pulled up her skirt exposing fat legs and an unmaintained pubic area. “Lookin’ for a good time.” She cackled.

Jack dismissed her with a glance. She was unremarkable. The woman he needed would have to be special, memorable. Feeling generous, he tossed the wretched woman a penny and she quickly dropped to her knees to pluck the money from the cold ground. He dismissed the others with a smile and tip of the hat and continued down the small street.

Fifteen minutes later, Jack still hadn’t found the right girl. His genial mood had turned dark and he had to fight the urge to slash every whore insight. His usually immaculate hair was damp with perspiration and clung to his scalp beneath his hat. his easy stroll had morphed into a purposeful march. He was heading up a darkened street with teeth clenched so tight they threatened to snap. That’s when he saw her. Like an answer to his prayers. She emerged from the brothel doors and headed down the street.

Long, wavy red hair swished across her back as she sashayed away. The dowdy clothing she wore did little to hide her curvaceous assets. Jack broke into a light jog to catch up with her.

“Pardon me.” He said tapping her on the shoulder. She whirled around, a curious smile on her red lips. Wide, emerald eyes looked at him with amusement from a perfect, translucent face. She lifted a questioning brow.

“I’m looking for a little fun tonight,” he said reaching into his pocket and pulling out enough money to spellbind her. “And I’m willing to pay for it.” Her eyes went to the money in his hand, then slowly rove over his attire.

“All right.” She said, in a foreign accent that dripped with seductiveness. There was something about her that called to him. He wanted her and would do anything to get her.

“We can go to my place.” She murmured and turned without another word. He did not hesitate to follow her. The man whose sole purpose in life was to control others, here he had abandoned all to follow her. Sure, she would feel his scalpel before the night was over, but this one, he would enjoy first.

Jack thought about the last murder. He’d had all of the time in world alone with Mary Kelly to conduct his master piece. He rubbed his hands together salivating at the idea of being alone with this beautiful creature and being able to take his time with her. This was going to be a night history would never forget.

This would be another perfect opportunity. The hours would linger as he peeled back layer after layer of her porcelain skin. An erection stirred just at the thought of the things he was going to do to her. Jack nodded and followed her down the darkened path towards her domain.

Elizabeth was the name she answered to and she was clever and witty and surprisingly knowledgeable about the world. It was clear she was more than our average street urchin. The desire to know more about her competed with is equally powerful desire to carve her up like turkey.

When they had reached her tiny flat, she unlocked the door and he followed her inside the darkness. Jack stood just inside the doorway while Elizabeth fiddled with candles to light the tiny room. There was the odd sensation of another presence in the room. His instincts told him to run, but before he could act on it the light from the candles showed they were alone.

“Jack,” she said turning to him with that wicked smile. “I like that name.”

Jack shrugged. If she had known his real name perhaps she wouldn’t have been so impressed. He removed his derby and placed it on the tiny table in the center of room. Elizabeth sat on the rickety bed with her legs spread in a most un-lady like manner watching as Jack remove his coat and vest.

“Take off your clothes.” He said forcefully. “I want to see what I’m paying for.” She leaned forward with narrowed eyes. For a moment he thought she was going to resist, oh how he’d wanted her to resist, but after a suspenseful pause, she leisurely got to her feet and slowly undid her dress and allowed it to slipped from her voluptuous body and dropped onto the floor.

Then she shimmied out of her underwear and stood before him naked. Her pert nipples were encircled by large pink areolas. Full breasts beckoned to be suckled and inviting hips called to him and the dusting pubic hair just a shade lighter than the wavy redness atop her head were purely hypnotizing. For the first time inwhat he consider his life’s work he found himself wanting to have sex with one of his victims.

“Come here.” Jack said huskily. His passion was reflected in her eyes and he found himself wondering if she was this way with all of her customers. He caressed her angelic face, running his thumb over her merlot-colored lips. His hands roved over her body. She remained motionless while he poked and prodded her most intimate spaces. The more he touched, the rougher his handling of her became but she did not wince. Her body was pliant and accepting all of his demands.

“Get on the bed.” He ordered wiping the sweat from his upper lip. Jack pulled down his trousers and joined on her on the filthy bed. He positioned himself between her legs. His thirst for her was met with her curiosity.

Her jade colored eyes didn’t blink as they followed his every move. Jack glared down at her as he roughly entered her. She gave a small gasp, then relaxed beneath her. He pushed deeper inside.

Jack frantically thrusted, taking pleasure in her head banging against the wall as he burrowed deep inside of her. It was the sweetest sensation. Her hips undulating beneath him spurring him on. Jack continued pounding her into the bed until finally erupting inside of her. Exhausted, he collapsed on top of her, his seed spilt inside of her. Elizabeth was quiet, breathing softly in contrast to his panting, his shrinking penis slinked from her body.

“Jack.” The word slipped from her lips like a wisp of smoke. His eyes jerked open, revulsion crashing over him in waves. Jack jumped off the bed and pulled on his trouser.

“Whore!” He snapped. “You fucking diseased whore. How dare you drag me down with you.” Jack rushed over to his coat and removed the double edged dagger. The blade gleamed in the soft glow of the candlelight.

Elizabeth sat up on the bed, a twinkle in her eyes as they went from the approaching blade to Jack’s face.

“What are you going to do with that Jack?” She murmured.

“I’m going to gut you.” He said, his voice dripping with malice. He charged towards her slashing the knife towards her face, splitting the skin on her cheek. His lips curled into a snarl as he swiped the skin and blood from the blade.

Elizabeth dropped to the floor screaming. He attacked her savagely. Elizabeth writhed beneath him, the blade slipping through her effortlessly. Jack was uncontrollably.

His energy spent, Jack glared down at her unsure of when she’d gone limp. He dropped the dagger to the floor and wrapped his hands around her neck attempting to extinguish the faint pulse at her throat. Jack squeezed, then squeezed harder but she would not die.

She started to tremble. Jack jerked his hands away. The guttural laughter startled him. He backed away from the bed. He thought he was hallucinating but reality quickly set in when Elizabeth rose from the bed, blood seeping from the many puncture wounds.

Those emerald eyes had transformed into a green jungle. The innocence in her face had aged. She was up on all fours on the bed.

“What’s wrong Jack?” she giggled. “Tonight I’ll be ripping you.”





















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