The Blood on the Tombstone

“Stop! Get away!” Screamed out the poor middle aged woman as she was shoved into the unlit part of the alley. She fell, and couldn’t get back up because of the heels she was wearing. What use would it have made anyway? There was no escape. It was quiet that night, in the East End. The year was 1888 in London, England. The air fresh, The paveways lit by streetlights. All interrupted by this terrible event.

The man, standing tall and motionless, looking down at the poor woman.

He was wearing a top hat, what seemed to be a bandana covering his nose and mouth, a black chesterfield coat, and was holding a briefcase in his left hand. The man kneeled on one knee, placing the case on the ground and pulling out a knife. The woman, with a face of utter shock started trying to crawl away, even though the direction she was going was a dead end.

The man, now standing tall once again, held the knife high and had at her.

The knife, stabbed right through. The woman, now with only a few more moments of life, looked down and saw the knife injected into her stomach, looked back up, and closed her eyes. The man was looking at her, into her eyes, menacingly, as she took her last breath. The man then pulled out a towel out of his case and wiped the blood off of the knife. Looking back at the woman’s corpse, the man calmly walked away.

Get quality help now

Writer Lyla

Verified

Proficient in: Jack The Ripper

5 (876)

“ Have been using her for a while and please believe when I tell you, she never fail. Thanks Writer Lyla you are indeed awesome ”

+84 relevant experts are online

Hire writer

Later that night, a homeless boy was walking along the sidewalks. He passed by the alley and heard the screeches of a street cat. He went over to check out what was happening. At first the boy couldn’t make out what the thing on the floor was, but once he got a closer look he burst out into a loud scream. The police was notified about the body that was found in the alley and began an investigation. Thus, begins our story.

It began with a man named Harry Smith. “Mayor, I don’t think I have ever seen anything quite like this” he said to former Mayor George Davies. “These bodies, they were all left distorted, mutilated.” said Harry. The mayor replied “What does this mean, detective?” “It means that whoever this killer is, they have knowledge in human anatomy” said Harry. “Oh my, you don’t say” said the mayor. “Don’t worry, I’ll get to the bottom of this case, and put this butcher is a cell” said Harry. “Well, that’s very relieving to hear Mr. Smith, but if you are going to take the case, then we have something that you need to see” said the mayor.

That night , Detective Harry Smith had been called over by the mayor himself to see something that was “apparently” very important. On the way into the mayor’s office, he passed by several policemen, who all gave him an ominous look. He noticed that the door to the mayor’s office was different from all the other doors in the building, it looked, classier, in a way. He then gently turned the doorknob on the door, and walked in, turning around to close the door behind him before saying anything.

The mayor was sitting behind his desk with a set of candles in the corner of the desk giving off plenty of light. The mayor told him to have a seat, and so he did. Harry sat down in the unusually shaped, cushioned chair that was next to him. On the mayor’s desk, the mayor had a bottle of Black Label Whiskey and two glasses. “Would you like a drink, Mr. Smith?” Said the mayor. “Sure, thank you” said Harry. The mayor poured the whiskey into the two glasses. It sounded loud, you could hear the slight waterfall sound when the whiskey was poured in.

The mayor grabbed one of the glasses and gave it to Harry by hand. “Thank you” said Harry as he took a sip. “So, what was that you needed to show me?” Said Harry after he was done taking the first sip of the drink. “Why yes, of course” the mayor opened up a cabinet in his desk and pulled out a piece of paper. He set the paper on the desk, facing so that I would read it. Harry took a quick second sip of whisky before leaning forward to read the paper. The paper read:

“Dear Boss,

I keep on hearing the police have caught me but they wont fix me just yet. I have laughed when they look so clever and talk about being on the right track. That joke about Leather Apron gave me real fits. I am down on whores and I shant quit ripping them till I do get buckled. Grand work the last job was. I gave the lady no time to squeal. How can they catch me now. I love my work and want to start again. You will soon hear of me with my funny little games. I saved some of the proper red stuff in a ginger beer bottle over the last job to write with but it went thick like glue and I cant use it. Red ink is fit enough I hope ha. ha. The next job I do I shall clip the ladys ears off and send to the police officers just for jolly wouldn’t you. Keep this letter back till I do a bit more work, then give it out straight. My knife’s so nice and sharp I want to get to work right away if I get a chance. Good Luck. Yours truly

Jack the Ripper

Dont mind me giving the trade name

PS Wasnt good enough to post this before I got all the red ink off my hands curse it. No luck yet. They say I’m a doctor now. Ha ha”

( This is the real letter that the real life Jack the Ripper sent to the authorities in the 1800s, I copied and pasted it from Wikipedia)

“Oh, oh god” said Harry. “It’s an anonymous letter we’ve received, appears to be from a man who calls himself Jack the Ripper.” Said the mayor. The mayor looked at Harry. Harry was just sitting there, looking at the paper, just immersed into it. “Whoever sent this letter is so far our only suspect for all these murders, so I want you to take it with you and inspect it, see if you can get any valuable information on who the killer is” said the mayor.

Harry sat back down in his chair properly and looked up at the mayor. “Don’t worry, I’ll find them, no matter who or what gets in the way’ Harry replied. Harry stood up from his chair and walked over to the door. As he turned the doorknob, the mayor said “You know, we’re giving out a reward for whoever turns in the ripper, 30,000 pounds for whoever turns him in with proof, big money if you get this job done” Harry just looked at him for a second and opened the door, then walked away.

When Harry got home, his fiancé, Olivia Taylor, was sitting in the kitchen. “Oh, you’re back” she said as she got up from her chair and walked over to him. Once she got close, she crossed her arms and said “So what was this important thing that you had to go to?” Harry replied “Well, I got a big case, and they gave me some clues” “A big case? What happened?” Said Olivia. “Murderer, several victims so far, all women, all stabbed” Harry replied. “Only female victims? That’s strange” Olivia said. “I know, sign that he has some particular motive behind his crimes” said Harry.

“How much money?” Said Olivia. “30,000 pounds, a lot of money” said Harry. “Well, I hope you solve it” said Olivia. She yawned loudly and started walking away. As she was turning the corner into the hallway, she stopped and said “Just, next time you’re coming home late, tell me ok? I’ve been up all this time waiting for you so you could tell me what this big important thing was.” “Alright, you should go get some sleep, I’m gonna stay up” said Harry. Olivia gave him a smile and walked along.

Harry, still standing right in front of the door, looked down at the paper. Then he looked up, thinking about what the mayor said. A slight moment of silence passed. Harry and Olivia were quite wealthy but they weren’t exactly millionaires, 30,000 pounds was quite a lot of money. Harry, now sitting down in front of the living room fireplace, inspected the paper.

He noticed, there were some errors in punctuation, he used red ink to resemble blood, he stated in the letter that he couldn’t use real blood. The handwriting looked quite neat though, but it’s not like that would make for solid evidence. Harry sat there, staring at the fire for a few seconds. He decided to set out and look around the locations of the murders. He walked out of the house, waving the back of his coat like a cape as he walked out.

It was cold outside. There was also thunder, but no rain. A dry thunderstorm, he thought. The most recent murder connected to the case, a middle aged woman, in her 30s, stabbed to death in an old alleyway. The body was still there, covered up with a black cloth. He uncovered the cloth to reveal the body. The woman had cuts in her stomach, torso and throat. He also noticed, the fingers had been cut off. They were laying atop her stomach.

Harry felt a shiver go up his spine, what kind of monster so something like this in such a barbaric manner? It made sense no one tried to help, no one lived near this rundown area. He looked around the alley for clues for a while, before it started to rain. He didn’t find anything. Harry looked around. He saw it. The thunder, it made him see it. The lightning flashed a beam of light, and made him see inside the window of the warehouse up ahead.

He saw a dark figure standing in front of the window. He stood there for a second, processing what just happened, then ran straight for it. An abandoned warehouse that used to be active just a few years ago. Harry broke open the door. He saw a man, just about as tall as he was, ominously standing in the distance. There were black sacks hanging everywhere. Harry assumed that they were meat or something, and he couldn’t check to see, not now.

Within the first few seconds of looking at the man, he thought to himself, maybe he’s poor? Yes, and he sleeps here, in this rundown place. No, he’s wearing a classy top hat, and a very expensive-looking coat. He can’t be poor, Harry thought to himself. It’s been about a good ten seconds with both Harry and the strange man just standing, looking at each other. Harry can’t see his face, only his eyes. His mouth is covered up with a bandana or a scarf or something. Harry called out “Hey! Who are you? And what are you doing here?!”

The man took three or four steps forward before standing still again, straightening out his coat, and then steadily walking towards him again. Harry started getting anxious. He bent his legs a bit, and got into a more defensive position. Harry called out yet again “You didn’t answer my question! Who are you, and what are you doing here?!”

The man seemed to be ignoring Harry. He just kept calmly walking towards him. Harry decided to stop standing still, and began to run towards the man. As he was running, Harry raised his hand close to his ear, as if to punch the man. The man stopped walking as he saw Harry running towards him. Harry was planning to punch the man, right in the face. As he was about to, Harry launched at him trying to punch him. The man dodged it, he dodged it clean. All the man did was take a step to the side and next thing Harry knew, he was about to trip and fall. Harry retained his balance, then turned around to look at the man. Harry felt angry now.

In a rage, Harry launched himself at the man once more. Harry was close this time. Harry almost got him, but the man dodged once more. This time, the man punched him back before he could turn around again. He punched Harry right on the cheekbone, and Harry fell backward from it. For a second, Harry could feel himself drifting away, he sat on the floor for a second. Once he got back to his senses, Harry got back up. He had the same expression on his face as when he tried to punch him the second time, but his face looked strange from the purple lump on his face.

Harry calmed down, realizing that he’s not getting anywhere just chasing this guy around. “You know, you’re good. Really good. But you still didn’t answer my question. Who are you, and what are you doing here?” Said Harry. The man brushed off his coat and looked at Harry. They both stood there for a good five seconds. Harry started getting really anxious. Harry was about to talk to him again, then the man did something. Harry had his eyes closed, he didn’t feel it, but he felt it. He just opened his mouth to start talking again, and next thing he knew, he could feel something cold going through his skin.

A blade, a sharp blade. The man had stabbed Harry, right in the gut. Harry was so confused on what was happening, he didn’t immediately feel the pain. He just felt something really cold in his skin. Harry looked down and saw the knife, sunken into his skin. Harry realized the situation, and started to feel it. The pain. Harry fell, kneeling on the floor. Harry started to cough blood, blood coming out of his mouth and spilling onto the floor. The man then grabbed Harry by his hair, then punched him in the face again.

Harry fell onto the floor, laying there, blood still pouring from his mouth. The man crouched down to look Harry in the eyes. The man grabbed Harry by his hair again. This time, he just lifted his head up and let it fall down onto the floor again. The man then put his right foot atop Harry’s chest. He reached down and pulled the knife out of Harry’s stomach. Harry screamed in agony as he felt the knife being pulled out. The man put the knife back into his sleeve. The man then walked up to the door, and looked at Harry. The man then opened the door. He was about to walk straight out, but was interrupted by the faint sound of Harry’s voice. “Wait… please… *cough* tell me… are you the ripper?”

The man gave Harry a strange stare. Harry could see something in his eyes. The man made a different expression. He just couldn’t tell which one it was because his mouth was covered up. The man walked straight out the door and Harry was still lying on the floor, both exhausted and severely injured. Harry tried to get up, he used his last bit of energy to do it. He was going as fast as he could, he was much more limping than walking than running. Harry rushed through the door and went outside. The man was gone.

He was just about to run after him, but he came to his senses and decided to go back home. He was way too injured to walk properly, let alone run after that guy. He slowly but steadily walked all the way back home, covering his injury with his hand the whole way. Once Harry got back home, he went over to the living room and sat down. Harry was just relaxing, just about to fall asleep, but quickly realized that if he fell asleep, he would die. Harry decided to treat his injuries himself, instead of going to a hospital for help.

Harry didn’t want any other police to get involved with what happened, he was determined to catch the ripper himself.

The next morning, the news about the money being given to whoever turns in the ripper was flourishing across town. Harry fell asleep in the cushioned chair in the living room after patching up the injury he got. His fiancé Olivia was still asleep. There was no way he was going to wake her up, and especially not after what happened, so he just wrote her a note. Harry went outside and saw the fliers of the 30,000 pounds being given. They were all over. He decided to go to the mayor’s office to talk with him about what happened.

As he got to the entrance, he saw his friend Jacob Evans just casually strolling by. He ran up to him, to greet him. Jacob saw him and called out “Harry! How’s it been pal?” “Jacob! What’s up pal? It’s been so long hasn’t it?” Said Harry. Harry and Jacob had been friends since they were children, ever since they started attending school. Harry ended up telling Jacob everything that happened with the strange man, the murder case, how he got stabbed.

Jacob’s reaction was not what Harry had expected. “Wow, so you think that guy was the ripper?” Said Jacob. Harry responded with “Most likely.” “Are you doing this for the money?” Said Jacob. “He’s a murderer taking innocent lives out on the streets, I would take the case even if there was no pay” sad Harry. “Well, anyone can get the money if they turn the man in, but who has any hope of catching him but you?” Said Jacob. “Well, I guess you’re right” said Harry.

The two just chatted for a while until Harry decided to leave and see if Olivia was awake yet. Harry needed to tell her above anyone else after all. When he came home, Olivia was sitting in the kitchen again. She was shocked to see Harry’s farce. Harry told her all about the incident. “Wow, that’s crazy.” Everything went normally after that. It wasn’t until nighttime that Harry decided to look for the ripper again.

Harry went to search in the direction the man ran off to after he stabbed him. He wondered, maybe he might catch him. The direction the man went towards was a road leading to a cemetery. A cemetery alongside the church. Harry thought, if the ripper was going to strike again, this was the place. Harry went towards the front gate to the cemetery. It was locked. Just as he was going to try to take a different entrance, he heard a scream. Harry thought to himself, “jackpot.”

Harry jumped over the gate, hurting his injury. Harry didn’t care though, he kept running. Harry also came armed with a gun. He ran, and saw the same man as before in the distance. Harry felt excited as he began trying to run faster. He saw the man, he had the knife in his hand. He was about to murder a nun. Undoubtedly one from this church. Harry got his pistol out while he was running across the lawn. Once he got somewhat close, he stopped and stood, held his gun up and pointed it upward and fired.

He did that to make a loud noise that would distract the man and buy him a few more seconds to get close. The man immediately turned around to see Harry. Harry started running towards him again. He got extra-close, and stopped. He pointed his gun at the man and said “Drop the knife”. The man then held the lady closer and held the knife at her throat. Harry said “Drop the knife or I will kill you.” The man raised his arm to the side, and was about to sling his arm back to stab the lady. Harry shot his foot before he could. The man immediately dropped the knife and let go of the lady and yelled out in pain.

The man sat on the ground, with his foot in his hand. Looking up at Harry. “No more, you’re coming with me” said Harry. “Okay then” said the man. That was the first time Harry heard the man talk, use his voice. It sounded eerily familiar. “But before I send you in, I have a few questions.” Said Harry. “What do you want to know?” Said the man. “Are you the ripper?” Said Harry. “Yes” said the man. “Who are you?” Said Harry. “My name is Jacob Evans” said the ripper. Harry looked at him, and thought, there’s no way. “And you are Harry Smith” said the ripper. “Jacob…. why?” Said Harry. “You could never understand!” Said the ripper.

The ripper then snatched away Harry’s gun. Harry got played once again. “Woah there, let’s not-“ Said Harry. Bang. The ripper had shot himself in the head. Harry just felt disappointed at this point. This all happened so fast. Apparently his friend was the ripper all along? Harry went home in confusion, didn’t even tell the police about it. When he got home, Olivia said “What happened?”

“I think I’d rather forget” said Harry.