DISCLAIMER: I do not know everything that had occurred during the Whitechapel Murders. I'm simply writing this based on what I may already know. I'm also not the owner of Hetalia. That right belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.
Arthur hadn't a clue as to what was the matter with him. An urge. A hunger. Bloodlust. Whatever the mass may call it. Insane? Perhaps, he craved feeling thick crimson on his tounge. It wasn't normal to fantasize about these things. He could be caught, and the asylum is where he'll quite literally spend eternity. But, he yearned- no needed- to see someone bend to the will of his knife. Green eyes scanning his chosen victim as they pleaded for their pathetic existence. Yes, sounds splendid, and Whitechapel is simply crawling with low-life individual selling their bodies or locked within the walls of the blighted workhouses.
So, once dusk overcame the blazing sun, Arthur had suited out to become one with the shadows. And selected a seven inch knife to do his bidding. He hid the knife in his black overcoat, which surprisingly was quite the feat, before boarding a carriage from Westminster heading towards Whitechapel. Surely the ladies of the night were out preying for men to snag. Little did they know, they were to become the prey themselves.
It felt as if years had slowly trudged by before Arthur was released from the stuffy carriage's enclosure. Paying the driver, Arthur's hearing had retrieved the sounds of a pub's door opening and creaking shut. A drunken woman's roaring laughter following closely behind. Jackpot.
"Thank you, sir." The driver said before turning his horse right around and exiting the poor borough. Leaving Arthur and his very first, unfortunate, victim to be alone.
This girl, Arthur didn't bother to catch her name but she had dark hair hidden underneath a bonnet and a rather pompous frame, stumbled about on her feet. Happily humming and heading towards God knows where. Arthur trailed close behind on the cobblestone, fiddling with his noir top hat and he attempted to remain as silent as possible. But the woman's mind seemed not to notice the shadow practically floating behind her. Instead, her mind was focused on uplifting songs and retrieving her money from her clientele.
It was like this for a solid ten minutes, until they had reached Buck's Row, by a stable's entrance that was decorated by a gate. That's when Arthur decided to role the dice and brandish his large knife, hustling up to her swaying body to lightly tap her back with the sharpened tip. "Excuse me, madam." Arthur smirked. "I hope Hell has an opening for you."
"Wot! Wot the bloody hell is that supposed ta' mean?" She slurred, turning her body to become face to face with this man with a knife.
"Exactly as it was said, milady, Hell will become your new watering hole." Arthur's voice crescendo as the sentence lingered on. He witnessed a flash of red before him before he tackled the poor lady down to the cement, straddling her waist to keep her down. "You better not scream. Be a good girl for once, would you?" Arthur grimaced as he saw this lady struggle and wiggle around like a fish out of water. Yet, she had made no peep as to Arthur's request. Placing the knife firmly to the right of her throat, with one vigorous motion, he had swiped left then right, nearly performing a decapitation. A minute hadn't even breezed on by before Arthur swung the knife up into the cool air, and delivering it straight into her torso. Sliding it down, cutting dress and flesh, to reveal the grotesque intestines to the outside touch of air. Arthur could feel his mouth water at the sight.
A few more lacerations, more for show than anything else, amongst the torso later. And Arthur had found himself with a stunning cadaver to kick start his future endeavors. He licked the blood free from his knife and the remnants sliding from his glove. He adored the metallic taste, along with the presentation of entrails spilling forth like a blooming flower from this girl's body. Arthur couldn't find a single word to describe what he was feeling. Even after he'd returned home and was informed of his lovely work of art being discovered. Fulfilled? Not quite there. But, however, there was one thing he could be sure of.
Arthur loved the sight of what was on the inside of the human body. And he wanted to see more of it. He smirked to himself, with a chuckle low in his throat. He thought to himself. 'Let the games begin.'
AN: This may become a continued piece if I get enough reviews asking for it. Detailing the next four of the Canonical Five murders, and how Arthur evaded suspicion from Frederick Abberline. If you would all be so kind, could you private message me or leave a review if you think I should carry this torch forward. It would be greatly appreciated. Nonetheless, thank you all with all my heart for reading. I hope you've enjoyed this!