Autumn of Terror || h.s. au

Chapter 1: Dear Boss

     Warning: This might get really super scary.

     --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

     I take a deep breath and straighten my back as I process Freddie's words. He wants me to help him find Jack the Ripper. I've heard of him, the man who has been murdering countless women for the past few months. Of course I'm going to accept, it's just a bit nerve-wracking.

     Before I respond, I take a glance at the young man who accompanied Freddie. He obviously works with him, maybe a lower level detective. He seems to be in his mid-to-late twenties, and his dirty blonde hair is tucked neatly under his top hat, which he hasn't taken off yet. The light bruise on the left side of his neck is a clear indication of a right handed violin player. I can tell he doesn't have a strong woman in his life, judging by the way he reacted when he found out I'm the detective he came here to speak to, rather than my husband. He may even be mother-less.

     "You," I nod to him. "What's your name?"

     The man clears his throat as he places a teaspoon of sugar into his tea. "Roth. Detective Wesley Roth."

     "Well then, Detective Wesley Roth, can you explain the details of the Ripper's latest crime to me?" I ask.

     "Um, w-well, it- uh, the latest m-murder," he clears his throat again. He must be new, considering how uncomfortable he is with the thought of murders. "A prostitute was found mutilated on Henriques Street at Dutfield's Yard early this morning. She-She had two severe cuts on her throat but, unlike the Ripper's previous victims, she had no other injuries on her body."

     "That's not all," Freddie speaks up. "You must know by now that the murderer identified himself as Jack the Ripper only two days ago, through a letter he sent to the police."

     "Of course I know that," I reply. "What exactly was in the letter, by the way?"

     Freddie reaches into his inner coat pocket and takes out what seems to be the letter. He passes it to me. "See for yourself."

     I hesitate, but take the letter anyways. I unfolded it, but didn't begin reading it right away. The letter was written in red ink and handwritten neatly. It was dated on the 25th of September, only five days ago.

     "Read it out loud, please," Mr. Roth states.

     I gulp and begin reading it:

     "Dear Boss,

     I keep on hearing the police have caught me but they won't 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