A Copycat.// Or The Ripper Himself

Crafted by Renzo Pascotto in Maniago, Italy.

    [Madwoman]- She wasn’t alone.

    And this time, she was certain that it wasn’t her own vivid hallucinations playing more of their cruel games with her. After all, hallucinations don’t cause rats to scurry away. At least Nanny was home safe- the streets of Whitechapel were no longer safe for such worldly women. A young woman like herself, dressed in middle-class rags and walking with the confidence only a fallen woman could carry with the weight of the world on her shoulders, was surely a prime target for the Ripper to sink his claws into.

    But Alice has faced monsters before. And emerged victorious, blade in hand and a trail of bloody corpses behind her that no one would ever find. It was rare, to face any that existed outside of her own headspace these days. While no Vorpal blade, she clutched at the small blade concealed in her pocket as she sped up the gait of her walk, turning down a dark ally quickly to peek out from behind the wall. The mists hung heavy this evening, it was hard to see anything.

    Holding her breath, she waited.

@ofwhitechapel

The dark streets were welcoming, the thick fog entwined with the smoke of the factories mingled &. danced in the winding streets. Everything was still. Quiet. The sound of hundreds of little feet scurrying around &. the occasional squeak echoed, sounding louder than natural. But apart from that, quiet. Foot falls later followed. A dense shadow forming in the ever growing thick of grey. The shadow stood about 5′5′’ &. moved with the speed of a human who knew where they were going.

Jack had been working hard that day, he had multiple patients that he needed to deal with &. after such a grind he desired a drink or two at the local pub. It was almost routine. Almost. Some nights he opted out of the drink, wishing to keep his head on straight. He had his sights set on the figure of a young woman, having kept her company for an hour or so but upon leaving the building, he would leave her side. No need to appear like a stalker.

As he continued on his march, eyes caught the sight of sudden movement. Rats. His feet came to a halt, his head slowly following the direction of the rodents. A smile then broke out, tearing his face almost in half; the shadow cast by his hair obscuring his eyes. “Funny~” The man mused, turning to look toward the nearest alley. “They aren’t this lively on such quiet nights.” Shoulders raised in a shrug whilst one hand slipped beneath his thick coat to sit at his trouser pocket. “Do you know something I don’t?” It almost sounded as if he was conversing with the rats, though he knew they couldn’t actually understand him.