Ripper ! (standard:horror, 2039 words)
Author: Michael Lance Kersting	Added: Mar 17 2013	Views/Reads: 3031/2159	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
The infamous "jack the Ripper" is back even more vicious than ever.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

We will have to spread out our search" A few days later. 

Spitalfields, London, November 9 1888. 

1.00 am. 

The night was cold and foggy. The street was almost deserted ,but for a
few coaches passing by occasionally. A tall, lone figure was walking 
hastily, his head bowed . He was carrying a black bag.  His footfalls 
echoed on the cobblestones. The thick mist swirled around him as he 
made his way along the deserted street. "Feeling naughty, sir?"asked a 
seductive, husky voice coming from the shadows of an alleyway . The 
tall man stopped. From his bearing, having a top hat and a long 
overcoat the prostitute figured he was a "gentleman" possibly on his 
way home. she emerged from the alleyway near a a street lamp. . She was 
a bit on the plump side in her twenties, wearing a fur collared , well 
worn brown frock that fell to her ankles.  Her hair was a light red.  A 
small artificial dot was on the right side of her red pouted lips and 
she smelled of cheap liquor. The man stiffened at her sight. "It is 
her," he thought , " At last I've found the slut" In a well modulated 
voice ,he asked "How much?" The prostitute, Mary Kelly, smiled, showing 
a missing tooth, ‘For you, Sir, two Shillings!' she responded hopefully 
with a slight smile. "Slut!"He thought furiously. "Where shall we go?" 
He asked bluntly. "I have a room at the back "she replied softly," 
Follow me ". The man clutched the handle of the little black bag he 
carried tightly. 

The room was approximately 12 feet square. Opposite the door was a
fireplace. On the left of the door and at right angles to it were two 
windows, one of which was close enough to the door as to be able to 
reach through it and unbolt the door. To the right of the door was a 
bedside table so close that the door would hit it when opened. Next to 
the table was a bed with the head against the door wall, its side 
against the right wall. The room contained two tables and a chair and a 
cheap print entitled "The Fisherman's widow" hanging over the 
fireplace. Opposite the fireplace was a small cupboard which contained 
cheap crockery, empty ginger beer bottles and a little stale bread. 
"The money first, please" she requested politely. "Money? ah yes." the 
man replied evenly”. You bitch!" he thought bitterly. He set the bag 
down on the bed and turned his back to her, she began undressing. The 
man rummaged around a bit, then turned suddenly." You?' she cried, 
recognizing him. " Yes, me, Slut! , Remember?" she then froze with 
terror at the sight of the long blade knife he held in his gloved hand. 
She tried to get away, but the man quickly grabbed her, covered her 
mouth with his other hand, and with a deft stroke, slit her throat.  He 
then threw her squirming body on the bed. 

"Slut!”He screamed as he began slashing at her face "You must die,
whore" he raged. He went into frenzy.  He began cutting off her pair of 
still warm breasts and placed them on a bedside table. Then he gutted 
her from her breasts to her pubes in a single gash and ripped out her 
intestines, enjoying the gurgling sounds it made. Muttering to him, he 
then piled them up beside the breasts he had amputated on a nearby 
table. Searching around the body cavity, he found her kidneys and cut 
them out .He then took out heart and began eating it, enjoying the 
texture.  Afterwards he licked the blood that ran from between his 
fingers, and continued the mutilations. Cutting off her ears and nose, 
he placed them on top of the pile. Exhausted, he got up, wiped his 
brows, then slashed her face several times again and finally spat on 
her in disgust before he left and disappeared into the night. 

The Ripper was in his flat sitting before the fire place sipping some
Port. He was deep in thought. "Somehow, he's got to end this torment" 
he thought .He knew what he must do" .He got up went over to his 
writing desk and began writing. Dear Sir.... 

Just then came a loud knocking at his front door. "Who is it?"Asked the
killer. "Police!" came the sharp reply. His heart pounding, he quickly 
threw the letter in the fire place, then composing himself, went to the 
door and opened it. A pair of uniformed police officers stood on the 
threshold, one tall and thin, the other short and fat. "Yes, Officers, 
what can I do for you?"He said trying to keep himself calm. " I am 
Officer Percival," said the tall one,” and this is Officer Newton,” 
indicates his friend who nodded. "We are checking the neighbourhood, we 
saw that your light was on, so we came to tell you that should you hear 
any unusual sounds, please note the time and description. We have 
reason to believe the Ripper is here about. The net is closing in on 
him," "I see, is that all, Officer?" "Yes, sir, Just be careful."The 
officers wished him a good night mad left. The doctor thanked them for 
their concern and closed the door gently. 

A few days later, the Chief Inspector received a letter addressed to
him. He opened it and began reading: 

Dear Sir, 

"By the time you read this letter I will be dead.  I cannot go on like
this. I must confess the torment is too much and weighs heavily on my 
soul. I cannot carry this secret for the rest of my life. I must now 
put an end to it. I confess that I am responsible for the last five 
recent murders here in Whitechapel namely that of Mary Nichols ,Anne 
Chapman, Catharine Eddoes ,Elizabeth Stride and finally ,Mary Kelly in 
Spitalsfield ,the woman I was searching for, who made my only son to 
commit suicide because of her rejection of him. I do not wish to live 
any longer so I had do what I had to.rid the world of such bitches. I 
was bent on revenge. Last Friday I found her again and I killed her. I 
also killed the others to prevent them from warning her when they heard 
someone was looking for her., but it later proved too strenuous for my 
conscience and may all forgive me." 

Signed, John Hanbury, F.R.C.S. Alias: Jack the Ripper. 

“Damn!” He was right under our noses." said the Inspector, shaking his
head in disbelief as he handed the letter to his deputy. Pims took it. 
‘Dr. Hanbury? I-I can't believe it, why –why, he is our own Police 
coroner!”-stammered Pims “Yes,” replied the Inspector still in shock, 
“no wonder we couldn't catch him, he knew our every move.”!He looked up 
at Pims and said, " The public must not know about this, it would make 
us and the department look like fools.  Destroy it!" He ordered. 

Pims did. 

Later that night, the doctor stood on a bridge, heavy stones in his coat
pockets. He took a last look around, climbed the barrier and jumped 
into the murky waters below. 

End 


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