1. An opponent from the abyss
The second one.
Warren's brows twitched slightly, looking at the deadly female body in front of her eyes.
The deceased was a prostitute, Mary Ann Nichols, 43 years old. She was found inside the Bucks Row near the White Church. The abdomen of the deceased was opened, the intestines were dragged out, and the lower body was also hit hard.
Because the death of the deceased was too miserable, many Scottish police officers who rushed to the scene of the crime scene spit.
Warren didn't vomit. He just frowned and examined the body. This is so much like Martha Tabram, the deceased in the East Side of Whitechapel on August 7. The location is near the White Church, and the deceased are prostitutes. This is most likely a serial killer. In any case, if it is a serial killer, then this must be just the beginning.
Warren put forward his own ideas to the authorities, but the authorities did not announce the idea of "serial killers" - fear of causing unnecessary panic in society, but the media, which gave the two cases a "white church murder case" (the name of the Whitechapel murders). Under the pressure of public opinion, the authorities have put in more plainclothes police patrols, which has led people to believe that such cases will not be repeated.
Warren doesn't think so. The coming will always come, he is almost certain that this serial killer must be the strongest opponent he has ever encountered.
Born in a middle-class home, Warren is now the mainstay of the Scotland Yard. His character is persevering, calm and extremely mindful. He broke through a few seemingly undetectable cases - all inspired by some clues. His credit has always been taken away by his superior Rachel, who is always an unknown policeman. Warren doesn't care about the gains of fame and fortune, but he is more addicted to the thrill of breaking the case - yes, pleasure, Warren can always get a special pleasure from all kinds of difficult puzzles. When they saw the two murders, Warren was bloody and his body shivered. Rachel thought he was scared, but not. Warren just felt very excited.
When Annie Chapman's body was found in the backyard of No. 29 Hanbury Street, Warren confirmed his guess. This is a wonderful crime. The murderer committed crimes near the house for the first time, and it was only 8 days away from the last time of committing the crime. The technique is becoming more and more sophisticated and more and more cruel.
On September 27th, the news agency received a letter signed "Open Jack". Since then, this ferocious serial killer has his own "art name."
Jack the Ripper. Warren smiled. It’s crazy to dare to provoke the police.
The pressure on the authorities is enormous and various speculations have been raised. Some people have concluded that Jack should be a butcher, and some people say that he is a doctor, and some even suspect that he is on the head of the royal family.
Warren saw all the reports about Jack. He just laughed. No, Jack is not a butcher. He has a certain culture. Jack is not a doctor, he has the atmosphere of an artist. Jack is more unlikely to be a royal family - he has the qualities of determination, perseverance and cruelty, which is not something that the spoiled royal family can have.
Jack's crimes are art – yes, dark, perfect art. No one saw the dark night, under the cover of London's thick fog, he quietly appeared, leaving a cruel, chilling crime scene.
Warren suddenly had inspiration. Yes artist! Look at the connections of the dead! Are prostitutes! Yes, the artist-painter, they have the opportunity to contact the girls on the lower level, because sometimes they need to find a woman to paint the body. And they have excellent knowledge of human anatomy.
This thought made Warren excited. He didn't tell anyone, he knew that if he spoke now, the credit would be snatched away by others.
He wants to grab him by himself, yes, this sinner, this ripper, the most powerful enemy of his history! Even if he uses extreme means, he must catch him!
Warren looked at all the relevant information all night and night, repeatedly recollecting the scene of the murder, a thought suddenly appeared in his mind...
2. Elegant prisoner
He smiled slightly when he saw the news of the murder of Elizabeth Stride.
Oh, this is not what he did. He is an artist and the other is just a ridiculous imitator. Why is the other party doing this? Jack gently tapped his temple, perhaps emulating, perhaps provocative, perhaps planting, or maybe... just that he couldn’t wait to come out.
Yes, Elizabeth was not killed by him, because at the time, he was dealing with Miss Catherine Eddowes.
The other party is indeed an admirable opponent. On the same night that Jack was going to start, he actually acted. Jack laughed. Perhaps the other party has already noticed his identity, perhaps this is a secret code.
It’s just not elegant enough and not perfect. Jack caressed his portrait for his wife. Everything like this is not what Dear Bella wants to see. He knows deeply. Oh Bella, his lovely, but unfortunate wife. She couldn't see it at the end, but everything he did was for her.
The follower also crowned Jack and wrote a postcard to the news agency. Exaggerated and vain words, and included Catherine's death. Jack took a smile this time.
People regard his ritual as an evil crime, and he can forgive them. The imitation of the emulating person made Jack feel slightly angry. His ceremony was tarnished. And it was tarnished in a funny, exaggerated way. The soul of his birth as an artist is very abhorrent to the act of "plagiarism", and it is obvious that the follower is doing this.
Jack decided to get rid of that disgusting emulator. This time, the president of the Security Committee received another letter. Still written by the followers. "From hell" is the title of the letter, and several words in the letter were deliberately misspelled. He is confident that this letter will be published, the real Jack will see it, and Jack does see it.
And he understood it. The other party is telling him that I will commit the crime next. Can you stop me, it depends on you not appearing.
The other party let him jump out of the dark.
It’s really interesting, but unfortunately you are going to die. Jack closed the Times and took a sip of vanilla tea.
3. Offenders and followers
His real name is of course not called Jack, but we call him this way.
He is an ordinary artist and has a very happy family. Bella, his beloved wife, once lived happily together. If painting is the first important thing in his life, then Bella is the love of his world that is better than anything else.
Bella is weak, but he wants to give birth to the children who belong to them. Jack didn't end up with her persistence, but in the end, because of this insistence, Jack lost her forever.
Jack, who lost Bella, was almost in the abyss of despair. He began to plan and eventually started. He killed the prostitutes who met in the daily contact, and then took their uterus. Bella eventually died of uterine bleeding. He then took these fresh and healthy uterus down to pay homage to her.
Maybe Bella will come back. Jack is innocently confident.
Jack helped him with his mask, and suddenly everything about Bella came out of his mind. In such a dark room, I really can't see it clearly.
The smell of blood is scented, and on the bed is the dead niece Mary Jane Kelly. When he arrived, people were dead. I can't see it clearly in the dark. Obviously, this is what the followers do. He wants to plant him, or he just wants to find him.
"Come out," Jack said shortly. He knew that the man must be here. If it is not for meeting him, why bother?
Suddenly a short laughter came from the darkness. Through the mask, Jack sees his emulator in the darkness that has gradually adapted.
The man was wearing a dress similar to him - perhaps listening to his dress description from the rumors. It’s hard to worry about it, and it’s hard for him. Jack thought this way, just waiting for the man to speak. He will definitely speak because he is doing it all to see him.
"You are very good, actually know that it is here." The voice of the imitation is ridiculous. "It is my strongest opponent."
"I don't think you are worthy of my opponent. But since you have worked hard on such a grand gauntlet, don't take it seriously, it seems that it won't work." Jack sneered.
"I didn't guess wrong, you are a painter. You may have had contact with these prostitutes long ago. You have been educated. You are proficient in anatomical knowledge. You think your crimes are a gorgeous performance art. "The imitation person said this.
"Yes, not all right." Jack took a knife from his arms and put it in his hands. "This is not performance art. This is a ceremony dedicated to Bella!"
In the dark, Jack shot. He swiftly and silently rushed to the emulator. The two twisted together.
This battle is silent. They didn't make a sound, they just used their own weapons to fight hard.
And this fierce battle is coming to an end soon. Jack was injured by the imitation of the abdomen, fell to the ground, no sound.
The followers rushed to breathe – he was also traumatized in the fight. I did not expect a painting home to have such amazing fighting ability. Under the hustle and bustle of the moonlight, the imitation person took a sigh of relief and slowly took off the mask.
It is Warren, the mainstay of the Scotland Yard. No, this time it might be more appropriate for him to be another criminal. His face was young but resolute, and his mouth was barely noticeable.
"Jack, you were finally arrested by me. But you can rest assured that I will bury your body and will not let you die after you die." Warren's face was a little distorted. His whole person exudes a faint bloody smell.
He walked slowly to Jack, then squatted down and approached Jack's face: "Want to know why? Because I will continue to continue your art. I will replace the name of Jack the Ripper in criminal history." I will replace you as a legend!"
4. To Bella's love
In the fog of London at midnight, a man is struggling to move forward with another man.
The fog in the latter half of the night was large, and the moon in the sky was already invisible.
The citizens of the entire city have fallen asleep, and there will be no such people at the midnight street. Because of this fog, it is also because of the recent terrible serial killer - Jack the Ripper.
It’s just that Jack will never show up again. Bella, right?
Jack looked up at the sky, trying to see the fog of that layer and seeing the stars again.
He is carrying a comatose man, this man is his crazy follower.
A few minutes ago, Jack struggled with life in the battlefield arranged by the emulator, and he was stabbed in the abdomen, pretending to be fainted and fell.
When the emulator approached him, he suddenly shot and tied the arm of the emulator with a needle.
In the needle is the anesthetic he carries with him. He used it in previous crimes - it would be fainting and unable to make a sound. It was this narcotics that was carried around that saved him at a critical time.
He is going to take this comatose man to a hidden place, then kill him and bury him again, unconsciously. This emulator will disappear forever, and Jack will fade out of this historical stage.
He suddenly wanted to understand. Bella is already dead. No matter how many people he killed, how many fresh uteruses were taken to hold the ceremony of his memorial, Bella would not live.
Jack suddenly felt sad. Not for the case he committed, nor for the dead who were killed by him innocently. He just suddenly realized that Bella was dead.
No one can understand his faithful love for Bella. Even this imitator who claims to understand his criminal art.
He is lonely, lonely, and not understood.
Jack’s incomparable loneliness. He didn't say anything, just a stunned follower, gradually disappearing in the fog of midnight in London.
1.Enemy from abyss
Warren knitted his brows, gazing at the woman who died miserable.
The dead was a prostitutes, Mary Ann Nichols, 43 years old. She was found in Bucks Row near Whitechapel. Her abdomen was incised, the gut was dragged out and her private part was assaulted severely.
Because of her mutilated dead body, many polices at Scotland Yard vomited on the scene.
Warren didn't vomit. He only examined the corpse, frowning. It was nearly the same as Martha Tabram's body, which was found in the east zone of Whitechapel on August 7th. The places were both near Whitechapel, and the dead were both prostitutes Anyway, if so, then it's just the beginning.
Warren suggested his idea to the authorities, however, the authorities didn't announce this assumption----in order not to cause unnecessary panic in the society. But the media, still named the two cases as "the Whitechapel murders". The Nation dispatched more plainclothesmen under great pressure from the public, so that people believe no such cases would happen again.
Yet, Warren didn't think so. The arrival would come. He almost could assure, this series killer, would become the best enemy in his life.
Wars was born from a middle-class family. Now he was a mainstay in Scotland yard. Persevering,calm and clever, because of this kind of character, he had detected many cold cases by getting inspiration from thread of a spider and trail of a Horse. However, his contribution was always owing to his boss Rachel. He always just was an unknown police. Warren didn't care about fame and gain, what mattered was the pleasant sensation he could get from solving a case. Sensation. Warren was addicted to it, which could be got from complicated riddle. When detecting these two murders, Warren's blood pressure was up, he trembled slightly. Rachel thought he was afraid, however, in fact he was just feeling extremely excited.
When Annie Chapman's body was found at 29 Hanbury Street, Warren's assumed was confirmed. It was a wonderful murder. The killer committed the crime near uptown, and it was only eight days away from his last murder. At the same time, his technique was More skillful and inhumane.
On September 27th, news agency received a letter whose signature was Jack The Ripper. From then on, this cruel series killer, had his unique nickname.
Jack The Ripper? Warren smiled. Be dare to challenge the police, so mad was he......
The authorities were under really great pressure. Various conjectures began to come out. Someone concluded, Jack should be a butcher. There were also people who thought he was a doctor. Someone even related him to royal household.
He is not a doctor, well must have educated to some degree. He was not a doctor as well, for he was artsy actually. Even less so Royal household, as he was purposeful, persevering and ruthless. Royal household who was spoiled couldn't have that idiosyncrasy.
Jack's crime could be enjoyed as art----Yes, dark and perfect art. At the dark night, as London covered with thick foggy, in somewhere people couldn't see, he, appeared stealthily,left a diabolic scene, where people Would tremble, with fear.
Yes! Artist! Pick up the same point of the dead! They were all prostitutes! Artists----painters, they had chance to contact with Streetwalkers who were in the bottom of society, because they Needed to find them for body painting. What's more, they had got the knowledge of human anatomy.
This discovery made Warren excited. He didn't tell anyone, he knew, if he said now, his contribution would be owed to others as used to be.
He wanted to capture this criminal in person, yes, this criminal, Jack The Ripper, he was the biggest enemy in his
Though he may need to use drastic measure,he wanted to catch him too!
Warren read all related materials, overnight and overnight. He also thought back the scene, again and again.
An idea began to form in his mind.
When he knew the news that Elizabeth Stride was killed, he smiled slightly.
Oh no, it was not done by him. He was an artist, but that person, was only a ridiculous imitator. But massage that his did that? Jack massaged his temple, maybe it was a imitation, maybe it was a provocation, maybe , it was a frame, or maybe... He only wanted to get him out.
Yes, Elizabeth was not killed by him. Because that time, he was busy killing Catherine Eddowes.
That imitator was an opponent worth respecting. Because he took action at the same time when he planned to act. Jack smiled. Maybe that person had known his identity already.
But it was not graceful enough, either perfect. Jack touched the portrayal he drew for his wife. This was not what Bella wanted to see. He knew deeply. Oh, Bella, his lovely and unlucky wife. She couldn't see at last But what he did was all for her.
That imitator wrote a letter to news agency in the name of Jack. It was flatulent and windy, which also included Catherine's death. This time, Jack didn't smile.
He could forgive people who apparent his fate as an evil crime. But that imitator's ridiculous action, really annoyed him. His fate was sullied. Even worse, it was sullied by a ridiculous and exaggerated method. As an artist, his soul abhorred this kind Of plagiarism. It was absolutely that imitator was plagiarizing.
Jack decided to kill that damned imitator. And this time, the president of Public Security Committee received a long letter again. It was still from the imitator. "From Hell" was this letter's title. There were some words which were misspelled on purpose. He was sure this letter would be published and the real Jack would see it. And in the fact, Jack indeed saw it .
And Jack understood, the imitator meant he would keep committing crime. The only way to stop it was----he appeared.
The imitator wanted he to come out of the dark.
It was interesting. However, you would die, unluckily. Jack put down the Times and drank a mouthful of Vanilla Tea.
3. The criminal and the imitator
His real name was surely not Jack, it was only an appellation.
He had his his wife, and they had lived together happily for a long time. If drawing was the most important thing in his life, then Bella was his true love Above all other things.
Bella was weak, but she really wanted to have a child. Jack couldn't disobey her insistence, however in the last, because of this instance, Jack lost her forever.
Jack was caught in despairing abyss after he lost Bella. He began to plan and take action, he killed familiar prostitutes and took away their uteruses.
Bella was died from metrorrhagia, thus he used these fresh and healthy uteruses to sacrifice her. Maybe, Bella would come back in one day. Jack believe this naively.
Jack adjusted his mask, all the things about Bella occurred to his mind. In this so dark room, it was obviously that he couldn't see clearly. The nose reveals a concentration of smell of blood, the woman who lied on the bed was Prostitute Mary Jane Kelly. She was already dead when he came. In the dark, all things were vague. Apparently, it was done by imitator, he wanted to plant this on him, or he only wanted to find him.
"Come out." Jack said in short. He knew that person must be in here. If his aim was not ding him, he wouldn't make much ado.
A short laugh came from the dark. Jack was adapted to darkness gradually through the mask, he could see the imitator now.
He had really spent a lot of time! Jack had waited, waiting for him talking. He must would say something, because all what he had done was For seeing him,
"You were really clever, going so far as to know I am here." The imitator said with banter. " You are worth being the most powerful opponent in my life."
"I don't regard you as my opponent. But since you have spent so much time on challenging me, I should guess seriously. " Jack sneered.
"If my conjecture was not wrong, you were an artist. Maybe you have contacted with these prostitutes before. You are well-educated, and you are good at anatomy. You think your crime is a series of magnificent performance art. " The imitator Said.
"It was right, but only a small part." Jake took out a knife from arms and started to play it. "It was not a performance art, it was a rite consecrating to Bella!" In the dark, Jack took action. He snapped the imitator, silently. These two people wrestled together.
This fight was silent. They didn't make a sound, only in struggling to use their own weapon,fighting and killing.
This furious fight ended soon, Jack was hurt by the imitator on the abdomen,he fell down to the ground, rising breath.
The imitator panted urgently. He was also hurt in the fight. He never thought an artist would have so high martial prowess. Under the misty taste of moonshine, the imitator sighed relaxingly, he slowly took down his mask.
Yes, it was Warren, the mainstay of Scotland Yard. But now, it was more appropriate to call him another criminal. His face was young and resolute.
There was smile on his lips which was not easily perceived.
"Jack, finally, you were caught by me in person. But you don't need to worry, I will bury you well, your name won't be mud." Warren's face twisted, he gave forth an odour of blood.
He walked to Jack slowly, then squatted down, came near to his face: "Do you know why? Because I will inherit your art. I will be Jack the Ripper instead of you. I will be the tale in the history of crime instead Of you!"
4. To dear Bella
At the misty night in London, a man carried another man, walking laboriously.
The fog was really thick after midnight. The moon had disappeared now.
Citizens in the whole city had been asleep, no one would appear on street at such midnight. It was not only because of such mist, but also because of a series killer---- Jack the Ripper.
But Jack wouldn't appear again, would it, Bella?
Jack looked up the sky, attempting to see through the mist, seeing the starry sky again.
He carried a dizzy man, this man was the mad imitator.
Several minutes ago, Jack fought against the imitator in the battleground arranged by him. He was hurt on the abdomen,thus he pretended to have been falling into a coma and fell down.
When the imitator approached him, he suddenly acted, using the needle tubing to acupuncture the imitator's arm.
In the needle tubing, it was the anesthetic. He had used it in the crime before-----It could make people faint and lose voice. And that's exactly this carry-on anesthetic,saved him at this crucialmoment.
He would carry this dizzy man to a covert, then killed him and buried him insidiously. This imitator would disappear forever, and Jack would also on his way out.
All of a sudden, he understood, Bella had died.
No wonder how many people he killed, how many uteruses he took away to sacrifice, she wouldn't come back to life.
Unexpectedly, Jack became sad. It was not for the crimes he had committed, neither for those innocent dead, just because he realized the death of Bella.
No one could understand his loyal love to Bella, even that imitator who claimed to have understand his criminal art.
He was exclusive, lonely and not understood by anyone.
This time, Jack felt unparalleled loneliness. He didn't say anything, just carried the dizzy imitator, gradually, disappeared in the misty night of London.
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