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Rated: 18+ · Other · Other · #1777997
Prequel to The Terror of London. How Jack got to how he is now.
Lilly walked out of her 'job'. She wore a frilly skirt, and a lowcut blouse. She was a prostitute, and needed to find a costumer fast. She walked her usual route, and saw no one. She sat on the curb, and buried her heard in her hands.
"Is there a problem, miss?" A voice with a heavy East London accent came from the alley behind her.. Lilly jumped up. She turned and saw a man emerge from the alley way. He wore a tuxedo, white gloves, and a top hat. He was obviusly rich.
"Yes. I'm bored." She said seductivly. She flatened out her skirt. "Can you help?" The man smiled.
"No, I'm afraid not." Lilly frowned.
"What are you, a cop?" The man chuckled.
"No. I am the one you should be afraid of." He stepped toward her. Lilly stepped back.
"Why should I be afraid of the like of you?" The man removed his hat, and grinned. Pointed teeth gleamed in the moonlight.
"Oh, you'll see soon enough." The man leaped foward and grabbed Lilly by the throat. "I'd suggest you keep quiet, or this will be one Hell of alot more painful." He whispered. Lilly whimpered. The man jaw lowered. A black abyss widened and rank breath rolled out. "My name is Jack. Surely you have heard of me?" Lilly almost screamed, but her windpipe was crushed under his grip. This was the man who killed the others, she thought, and now he's gonna kill me! Jack snarled. He pushed Lilly onto the ground, and removed his gloves. His fingernails were sharpened into claws. Jack slashed at Lilly, but missed slightly. Lilly's skirt shredded, and a bit of blood stained the material. Jack chuckled. "'Tis a shame. Your quite pretty." Jack slashed Lilly's throat and started to dine.
The next day, Jack read the newspaper, sipping coffee.
Jack The Ripper Strikes Again! was the headline. He crumpled the paper and tossed it. He loved his life. He was the infamous Jack the Ripper, and he wiped the scum of the streets off the planet. He also got a free meal. His door shook suddenly. "Open up! Police!"
Jack was stunned. The cops found him? Bloody hell! He grabbed his satchel and started stuffing clothes into it. The door splintered and several officers rushed in. Jack ran to the window and jumped.
He landed on his feet and ran. Cops were everywhere! What the hell was going on? Jack bolted into the nearest building. It was a chapel. He ran and hid behind a statue of Jesus. Cops barged in, overturning every thing looking for him. Jack cursed silently. He was screwed. He did the one thing he thought he would never do: pray. He prayed that the cops wouldnt find him. He almost laughed at himself. He slouched against the staute. He was done for. A cop overturned a glass table. A shard slid near Jack. Jack smiled. He grabbed it and sliced his wrist.
"I, Jack the Ripper, sell my soul to Satan in return that I safely evade the cops." A wooden floorboard creaked. Jack glanced at it. He kicked it. It crumbled beneath him. He slid through the hole, and ran. He was in a basement. There was a tunnel. Jack laughed. He was a servant of Satan now. He jumped over a fallen wooden beam. He was faster. He felt stronger. He could get used to this.
Jack the Ripper was dead.
The Spring Heeled Jack was born. And it was hungry.
© Copyright 2011 Xavier Kazi (xavierkazi2 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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