Times (London)
Friday, 16 November 1888
THE WHITECHAPEL MURDERS.
The police received another letter from "Jack the Ripper" yesterday. It began "Dear Boss" and went on to explain that the writer always addressed his cousin in those terms. He threatened to commit another murder in the locality on Wednesday next, on which occasion he would inflict injuries on his victim identical with those inflicted on the last.
Sirius Black l sneered at the paper in his hands, folding it into a crisp grey square and handing it to the person next to him. "Stupid Muggles," he muttered. "It's obviously some wizard gone a little mad in the head, with all the disappearing before being seen- it's obvious they're appaperating- and no weapons found- you could just use a scourgify and tada, no one's ever caught by the Muggles."
Elladora Black looked at the paper for a moment, before letting her arm fall to her side. "You need to stop being so bitter, Sirius." She replied quietly, watching the people- Muggles, as Sirius had said- walking around the two siblings. "It's not healthy, and besides, Scotland Yard is on the case, there's bound to be a couple wizards trying to figure it all out."
The black haired man snorted, walking a little bit faster as he noticed their coach waiting by the road side. "You're too nice, Ella, one would think you're a sympathizer." Sirius hopped up into the coach with a nod to the driver.
Ella wrinkled her nose and accepted the shotgun's hand up, sitting across from her older brother. "Of course I'm not, Sirius, but I'm just stating the obvious. There has to be a bunch of wizards on the case."
Sirius sighed. "Fine then." The coach set off toward the Black London estate, as Sirius didn't have his apparition license yet and everyone knew that females didn't (not couldn't) apparate.
The ride was quiet.
ANOTHER WHITECHAPEL MURDER
Another murder of the foulest kind was committed in the neighborhood of Whitechapel in the early hours of yesterday morning, but by whom and with what motive is at present a complete mystery.
At a quarter to 4 o'clock Police constable Neill, 97J, when in Buck's Row, Whitechapel, came upon the body of a woman lying on a part of the footway, and on stooping to raise her up in the belief that she was drunk he discovered that her throat was cut almost from ear to ear. She was dead but still warm. He procured assistance and at once sent to the station and for a doctor-
"Yet another murder?" Phineas Nigellus sighed as he set down the London Times. "That's the second one this month. You would have thought they would have caught Jack the Ripper by now."
"I don't know why they haven't," Sirius mused out loud to his siblings. "All you have to do it put up wards on the house-"
"Yes, but they don't know where he'll strike next, Sirius." Isla told him, picking up a small finger sandwich elegantly and taking a light bite. "Mmm. Delicious."
The oldest scowled. "Fine then, wait at all the possible places he might strike and catch him in the act. It's simple."
"It's not simple, Sirius." Phineas spoke up from his spot next to Isla, scanning the Jack the Ripper article. "Jack the Ripper is striking the filthiest, ugliest, and less likely to be noticed parts of London. Most people don't care about who lives there, they're all lower than even the peasants."
Isla blinked as she processed the words. "…But aren't all Muggles peasants?"
"Well, yes, but these people are even lower than peasants. Below peasants."
"So sparrows?"
Phineas looked at the young girl questionly. "What in the world are you talking about, Isla?"
The black haired girl shook her head and adjusted her skirt. "Oh, never mind."
Elladora sighed as she snapped her fan closed, bringing the attention to her. "Well, enough about this murder case. It'll be solved soon, there's no need to worry about it."
The conversation soon turned to the end of the summer ball that the Lestranges were hosting.
THE WHITECHAPEL MURDER
Up to a late hour last evening the police had obtained no clue to the perpetrator of the latest of the three murders which have so recently taken place in Whitechapel, and there is, it must be acknowledged, after their exhaustive investigation of the facts, no ground for blaming the officers in charge should they fail in unraveling the mystery surrounding the crime.
The murder, in the early hours of Friday morning last, of the woman now known as Mary Ann Nicholls, has so many points of similarity with the murder of two other women in the same neighbourhood - one Martha Tabram, as recently as August 7, and the other less than 12 months previously - that the police admit their belief that the three crimes are the work of one individual. All three women were of the class called "unfortunates," each so very poor-
"Everyone's getting very antsy," Phineas noted as he watched the Muggles hurry from one store to the next, worried that they would be the next victim. "As if they think they would be killed. There has to be something that connects them. Something important, why else would Jack the Ripper murder these people?"
"They're all women also, that's very worrisome." Isla piped up from her spot in the corner, absentmindedly embroidering onto a cloth as the sights of London flew by. "I'm a bit afraid, myself, for if this is a wizard-"
Sirius snorted. "You have nothing to worry about, Isla, these are all Muggle women and you're a Black, no one would dare touch a Black."
Phineas nodded. "Yes, and you'll always have myself and or Sirius to accompany you, so you'll be safe."
"Glad to know you care so much about me." Elladora's dry voice came from next to Isla, making Sirius and Phineas turn to look at her. "You know, if I die, I'm blaming you two."
Isla laughed as she put her hand on the older girl's shoulder. "You have nothing to be worried about, Ella, for no man would like to cross you and your temper!"
The Black men laughed and nodded. "No one would dare hurt Elladora!"
ANOTHER WHITECHAPEL MURDER
During the early hours of yesterday morning another murder of a most revolting and fiendish character took place in Spitalfields. This is the seventh which has occurred in this immediate neighbourhood, and the character of the mutilations leaves very little doubt that the murderer in this instance is the same person who has committed the previous ones, with which the public are fully acquainted.
The scene of this last crime is at No 26 Dorset Street, Spitalfields, which is about 200 yards distant from 35 Hanbury Street, where the unfortunate woman, Mary Ann Nicholls, was so foully murdered. Although the victim, whose name is Mary Ann (or Mary Jane) Kelly, resides at the above number-
"It is final." Lyra Black's voice was stern as she looked at her two only daughters. "You are not to be let out of the house without a group of five or more people with two adults accompanying you. You will have body guards at any official meeting where your presence is mandatory, however you cannot go over to anyone's house, go to any parties, or anywhere where you might be in danger. This 'Jack the Ripper' is mad and is on a killing spree, you shall not go anywhere without my and your father's approval."
Isla looked shocked. "B-But Mum-!"
Lyra looked at Isla with cold grey eyes. "Do not, 'but mum' me, Isla, or I shall ban you from ever seeing that beau of yours again."
Isla sat back down quietly.
Elladora nodded grimly, her gloved hands resting on the tops of her knees. "Yes Mum."
Lyra raised an eyebrow but jerked her head. "Good." With that, she stalked out of the room.
The youngest Black daughter turned to Ella with a curious but sad look on her face as soon as she was positive that they're mother had left. The parlor room was silent for a moment, before-
"You're not even going to fight her? We're stuck in here- this is a trap, no, a cage, and you're not even going to do anything about it?" Isla's voice steadily grew louder by the end of her rant, until she was nearly yelling- that wasn't proper for a Black women, oh no, no, no, no!
Elladora shook her head. How terrible was it that Isla was forgetting all of her training? "Keep your voice down, Isla-"
"No I will not keep my voice down!" Isla stamped her foot, her grey eyes- exactly like Mum's, oh yes they were- furious, wide, and emotional. "This is something important, Elladora, this is not-"
"Yes, this is something important, Isla, now sit down quietly or I will have to gut you, got it?"
The youngest Black looked wide eyed at the knife her sister had pulled out from her petticoat, and whimpered when she saw a few messy splatters of blood on it. Elladora smiled sweetly. "I said, 'got it?' little sister?" she pointed to the couch. "Now, sit."
One look at the bloody knife had made Isla sit quickly down.
"Good." Ella seemed pleased. "I see you do remember your proper Pureblood etiquette.
Isla blanched. "Wha- what are you-?"
"The curse has been in our family for generations, Isla." Elladora sounded completely calm as she polished the knife on her black glove, the old blood- oh no, still fresh dearie, the murder only happened yesterday you know- "What curse you might ask? The curse (or love) of bloodlust. Generations upon generations there have been one- only one - who has thirsted to have people's blood upon their hands, and I just so happened to be the one cursed with it."
She smiled, a warm smile, a fake, insane smile that didn't belong on quiet, snarky Elladora's face.
Isla straightened up, her eyes still wide like a deer who knew they were going to be shot, and asked quietly, "So it's you?"
Ella looked up from her polishing and hummed. "What?"
"It's you who has been murdering the Muggles? Who is the infamous Jack the Ripper? Who- who-" her eyes were wide as she replayed the conversation- the one that Sirius had told his suspicions about Jack the Ripper one day after dinner. "Y-You apparated? But-"
"It's against the law?" Elladora smiled sweetly. "Yes."
"But-"
"Unless you want me to gut your soul out and send you prematurely to hell, Isla, I would stop being so loud and annoying."
Isla shut her mouth with an audible snap and watched as Elladora carefully snuck the knife back inside her petticoat. The older girl gave a small, slight grin as she smoothed out her skirt, before carefully walking towards Isla, a wicked gleam in her eyes.
"Are you going to tell anyone?"
Isla shook her head. "No, no of course no-"
Elladora tilted her head to the side, no longer looking so innocent or cheerful. "I don't believe you."
"W-What?"
"I don't believe you're not going to tell on me. As soon as I turn around you'd be off telling Sirius or Mum or someone." Ella narrowed her eyes. "If you don't keep my secret I'm going to have to murder everyone. I don't wish to do that- how would I find any proper Pureblood male to marry me? So I need you to keep quiet, little sister, or else there would be a mighty consequence for you."
Isla nodded, her lips pressed in a thin line. "I-I understand." Her voice was barely audible. "I'll get out of your way now."
The girl dressed in grey shakily got out of her chair, watching Elladora like a cornered animal from the corner of her eyes, just in case the other took out a knife on her because she didn't trust her word.
"Oh, and another thing?"
Isla stopped in her tracks. "Y-Yes?"
"Stop seeing that muggle boy of yours, or else he'll be on next on my list."
Isla gulped and paled, but nodded. "Y-Yes Ella."
A sinister smirk graced her sister's face. "Wonderful, sister. Wonderful."
THE EAST END MURDERS
The man arrested at Belfast on Thursday night on suspicion of being concerned in the East end murders still remains in custody pending the result of investigations. He was brought up at the police court yesterday morning. Constable Carland, who arrested him, deposed that the prisoner first gave the name of William John Forster and then John Forster. He said he had been two days in Greenock, before that in Glasgow, and before that in Edinburgh. He would give no other information as to his movements. He had in his possession nearly £20 in money, a silver lever watch and chain, and lady's necklet and locket. On the locket was the monogram "A.M.R." He had also some keys, and in a bag in his possession were three razors, a table knife, a small knife, as well as some watchmakers' appliances. The number of the watch is 1265. The prisoner was remanded for a week.
Elladora chuckled madly as she butchered her victim- a black haired woman that bared a striking resemblance to her sister, Isla. With almost practiced medical cuts, the other girl sliced out the other's heart, destroyed her face- off the left ear, right barely hanging on, oops, there goes a bloody eye, her lip could use a little but more colour- broke a few bones- "Oh no, I didn't think an arm could bend that way. How far can a leg bend?"- before finally leaning back and looking at the woman. Her latest victim was unrecognisable, blood mattered and gruesome images of bones and muscles being stretched and pulled out of the body. "Oh, just a teensy bit more!"
She hacked at her face, brutally stabbing it seven times, before dicing up her heart with thirty nine messy strokes.
Ella grinned cheerfully as she uttered a spell to clean herself up, before appaperating away a minute before Scotland Yard burst through the door.
Oh how much fun it was, they would never know~!
"You've got the money?" The man jerked his head in agreement and carefully pulled out a small bag full of coins.
"Oh, you don't know how much these are selling for on the Black Market now a days...
Finding human hearts for potions are so rare, ya know?"
"It's a pity you had to die this way, Isla, if only you kept my secret…"
"A-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH- …" snap went the bones in her little sister's neck, gone went the life in her eyes, but the horror remained.
"Now you'll never speak again, will you?"
The sinister grin never left the teenager's face as she hacked away at her victim.
"My, my! So much blood! You could never keep a secret, could you~!?"
The sounds of hacking was the only noise in the room. Pull out her teeth, gums bleeding furiously, snap, crack of her bones- is her nose broken? Oh, no, no, no, no! Never do that, she had to punish her now, oh no, no, no! Saw the face- slicing out her eyes- such pretty ones, just like Mum's remember?-, slitting her neck once more (just for texture, my dears, the blood spurting out adding such colour to the drab grey of her dress) X over her heart, chop off her fingers! Gone with her toes! Maybe a little internal damage would prove to her, that she did something wrong... Maybe slicing her womb would show her...
"Maybe your heart down your throat will properly teach you a lesson, Isla…"
For the Quiditch League (Puddles): Trap, noir, 'the curse has been in our family for generations', and delicious
For the Flower Language Challenge: Bittersweet (write about someone discovering the truth)
For the Gods and Goddess Competition using the prompt: Kebechet Goddess of purification, known as the wandering goddess - Write about someone trying to redeem someone else. Alternatively, write about someone who is wandering (in physical or mental way). (I hope this counts, considering that Elladora wandered around searching for her victims… her mind was wandering)
For the If You Dare: 344. It's a pity…
Different Genre Comp: Crime
20 Fandoms: Harry Potter (1)
Dedicated to the lovely Gamma Orionis, who I know loves the Black family, slash/femslash, and incest, which makes her my role model and god. :) You are who gives me all my inspiration, I'm just really lazy on reviewing, I apologize, I'll get to that… someday.
I don't own Harry Potter.