Jack

My version of the events that led to the creation of one of the most notorious men in history...

"I'm sorry mother, yes I know mother, but you should have seen those eyes mother...oh those eyes they were sapphires. I couldn't help it. I had to have them...Oh God...I know, I'm so sorry mother." Yet as he stared at the picture clutched in his hand, the unresponsive, uncaring face of a woman with a plastered smile and heavily painted face just stared back at him with no words to comfort him; so he curled up in a ball and began to cry. The next day Jack got up at 6am as usual. He put on his best suit, cleaned his golden pocket watch and left his house by 7:30 am on the dot. This had been his routine everyday for the past five years, ever since he got his job as a banker, a job which elevated his social status to that of a near aristocrat. Last night's events however were still fresh in his mind and as he walked to work letting his feet lead him he thought upon it once again. "How did I even get there?" fo Mercer street was on the other side of town. He had been walking to evening mass when suddenly he was at the alleyway. One which was famous for its homeless, gambling, and women of the night. That's when he saw her. "Those eyes..." he couldn't help himself. He pushed her into an open doorway, pulled out his pocket knife and...but before he could finish his thought he was brought back by the slight touch of a hand on his pocket. "Damn pick pocketers!" he yelled as he shoved the boy away. "That's funny, they've never bothered me outside the bank before." He looked in front of him expecting to see the tall brick building and instead he found himself staring down the alley; that all too familiar alley, Mercer street. "My God" he whispered. His nostrils burned as the smell of the mold on the buildings and the body odor of every uncleansed sinner in the city became one in his nostrils. "Why have you brought me here again?" He let his hand reach up and grab the cross that hung around his neck. He clutched it as tears began to well up in his eyes; then he saw her. Her golden hair glistened in the sunlight. His hands began to tingle and he let go of his cross. Now he began to weep. She walked slowly over to him. She was beautiful yet as she got closer all he could focus on was that hair. "What's the matter sweet heart?" He could say nothing. His mouth began to water at the thought of touching that heavenly mane. "I bet I could make you feel better," She said with a wink."just follow me." As he followed her into a doorway he searched inn his pockets for his picture of his mother. It was gone. "What should I do?" he thought aloud. "Why whatever you like darling." He clenched his fists. "God guided me here" he reasoned "I'll let him guide me." She smiled as his hands ran through her hair. "It seems I got me the sensitive type." She said with a giggle. He hated it when she spoke. If he could just have the hair. It felt so good in his hands; he began to pull harder. "Will you calm down." She said frightened. "Please, be quiet!" He begged. "You're hurting me!" She cried, but before she could push him away he had his hands securley around her neck. After she was dead he took out his pocket knife. He could not contain his happiness as he looked at her brilliant hair still shining in his hands. It seemed even more alive now, disattached from the unworthy body littered at his feet. "Jack" said the pastor, the patience in his eyes completley diminished. "If you're not going to repent you can't sit in the box." Jack thought about this for a moment before he responded, "But I'm talking to God." The pastor just smiled at his ignorance. "Now Jack you know you're not at liberty to establish a personal connection with God. That's why I'm here. God speaks through me and tells me how to guide you." Jack wasn't sure if this was true but at this point he would take what he could get. "I've been doing bad things lately and yet I don't feel completlely responsible. I can't control myself. Something just comes over me and I can't help it." "Well my son, we can't question God's plan for us. We must trust in him and his divine will." "So you're saying God's been guiding me this whole time?" "Well what does your heart tell you?" Jack closed his eyes and waited but his heart said nothing. When he opened his eyes the pew door was shut. As Jack walked out of St.Peters he realized what he had to do; God was the answer. He smiled, and took out the picturre of his mother. He gazed into in lovingly and said softly, "I'm sorry mother but I don't need you anymore." He knew what he had to do but it was so hard. He gazed on those eyes, "Oh those eyes" they were like sapphires, "and that golden hair" how it glistened even after all these years. He kissed it one last timeand then tore it up. He looked up and saw three women huddled together standing over a news paper. They seemed frightened. He walked up behind them and peered over their shoulders. "Man Kills on Mercer Street!" was the headline. He grabed the paper and hurried away. He felt sick at first as he read the article. "Two woman were found dead on Mercer street. One on Tuesday and the other Wendsday. Authorities believe the man is deranged and dangerous. They also believe he will very likely strike again. It is encouraged that all womanstay indoors after night fall. Becuase of the culprite lack of identity police have nick named him the..." He couldn't help but smile as he read his new alias. Yesterday he had been lost and ignorant but now he was enlightened. He could finally see the path God had chosen for him. He was going to give them exactly what they wanted. Now he was "the ripper".

Reviews

[Bare trees]

Another well written story Ashley. I didn't suspect Jack the ripper. You caught me with that one. Your a good story teller. Keep writing.

[Wildecat]

Wow, this is an amazing story, most of us remember Jack the ripper, very descriptive, superb imagery an excellent write.