Prologue
Whitechapel September 30th 1888:
Catherine was sitting in a cell at Bishopsgate police station; she had fallen asleep about 20 minutes earlier, and when she woke, she was shocked to find herself still there.
She was detained for public intoxication; she was lying on the pavement, and it took two constables to detain her.
No wonder these coppers can't find the madman going around killing her fellow prostitutes; it's too much for the poor police.
Catherine knew about the killer and how he started calling himself "Jack the Ripper" through letters he sent to the papers.
She should be worried, given her profession, but she wasn't. She knew that the killer, or Jack if she were to humour him, was smart enough not to go near her. She wouldn't let fear get in the way.
They asked for Catherine's name earlier, and quite proudly (and still drunk) she gave it as "Nothing." It does sound like a fictional character, doesn't it?
Little Miss Nothing, back at it again
When she was sober enough, she asked a constable thirty minutes ago how long they planned to keep her, and he responded, "When you are capable of taking care of yourself."
If she could slap him through the bars, she would. He has no right to judge. If he were going through what she was, then he would have kept his mouth shut.
Does he think that she woke up one day and suddenly decided to become a prostitute? She didn't have a choice, and yeah, she takes a few drinks because she earned it.
That's why she doesn't like coppers. They don't understand things like this. They should be hunting this Jack the Ripper fellow, but instead they're wasting hours keeping her in a cell because that's their top priority.
To every part of London, they're just street trash to them.
Then the cell doors opened, and the same constable who detained her and told her to "take better care of herself" was on the other end, holding it open.
"Alright, miss, you're free to go." He said.
Finally, she thought as she walked out of the cell.
She met with the constable at his desk to collect her things, but before he could give them to her, he said, "I'm going to need a proper name and address of yours." Catherine gave him a slight smile and gave him a name and address.
"Mary Ann Kelly, of 6 Fashion Street", she responded while flipping her hair. Even though it was clear the constable didn't believe her and wasn't in the mood, he gave her her things anyway.
"Have a good night, ma'am." He said unenthusiastically; it was clear he didn't mean it and wanted to be rid of her. "All right. Good night, old cock." Catherine said as she walked out of the station.
There was a menacing air to the street Catherine was walking on. She was never on edge easily, but this made her jump at the slightest cricket; she couldn't explain it.
It's not like the street was deserted; he walked past at least three men and another constable on patrol.
Maybe all this Jack the Ripper rubbish was getting to her head; rest in peace to his two victims and all that, but he was still just a man who people are turning into a legend because of their fear.
The killer is just a man, nothing more, nothing less.
Then, in front of her, a man stood at the end of the alleyway. She was a good few feet away from him, but the man was just staring.
"Excuse me. Are you alright?" She called out. She couldn't see the face, but he had a top hat on and a long jacket. Underneath it, he was wearing a suit with a red tie. The sight of the man slightly unnerved Catherine, but she had met creeps before.
Then the man pulled out a knife from his pocket, and instantly she knew who this was.
Jack the Ripper
Catherine felt her heart beat out of her chest as the man marched forward towards her. At first, her feet were stuck to the ground, but as he inched closer, she found the strength to run away.
As she ran, she saw the constable whom she had previously passed and quickly ran up to him while still checking behind her. "Hel-help me, please help", she stumbled over her words while holding on to the constable.
"Ma'am, ma'am, please calm down. What's going on?" He asked, trying to keep her calm, so she took a few deep breaths as soon as she started talking; again, her heartbeat quickened once more.
"I-it's The Ripper. Jack the Ripper. Please help, he's going to kill me." She pleaded
But the constable's face shifted from a look of worry to an evil grin after she told him what happened. "I know", he responded.
He then grabbed her by the arms, facing her towards Jack as he slowly walked towards her, the knife shining in the street. Catherine tried to break free, but the constable's grip was too strong. Catherine tried to scream, but the constable had his hand over her mouth. All she could do was let Jack inch closer until the killer finally dug his knife into her
Jonathan checked his uniform, making sure the woman's blood didn't get on it; even if it did, he could make the excuse to his colleague that he tried to save her, but he still didn't need any suspicion on him.
He looked at the body of the girl they had just killed; this one was definitely his favourite. Even if he wasn't the one who got the kill, it was still a satisfying turn of events. Besides, he had already killed one a few streets down, so he couldn't complain.
This night will definitely make people fear the Ripper. Two victims in one night.
Jonathan looked up at "Jack the Ripper" and gave a nod, signifying that this was all for tonight. As "Jack" walked off, Jonathan stayed with the body, letting the cold air seep into the corpse.
When he was satisfied that this was enough, he blew his whistle and yelled out to whoever was listening, "There's another one over here."
