Author: Thanks, my cousin. Your bet made me wrote this when I just broke my right hand. Good job.
Anyway, a 450-something words little one-shot for our loli Jack the Ripper's murder of her first canonical victim.
1888. East London, England. Dark alleyway of Whitechapel
"You again, kid?" Mary Ann "Polly" Nichols, the prostitute, asks the strange little girl in front of her. She was just on her usual routine of her job; mainly standing in this foggy night to see if any men will request her services.
"Mother…?" The child mutters innocently. She was young, very young in fact. But she had white hair for some reason. She was dressed in ruined brown burlap. Those clothes probably had never seen the light of day. This was the second time that prostitute had met this little bugger and it seemed she had mistaken her as her own mother, once again.
"How many times do I have to tell you? I AM not your mother!" Nichols shouted loudly to the annoyance. While she was already the mother of five children, she had no sympathy for this abandoned soul. She had neither the time nor the resources to keep her. "Now scram before I get angry!" The woman turned away from the child before taking her leave.
This was the biggest as well as the last mistake Nichols will ever make.
"Mother… I want to return to your warmth…" The poor soul whispered with killing instinct. From her burlap, she drew out a sharp scalpel. "I'm sorry…" She vanished with incredible speed, the kind that shouldn't be possible for her starved metabolism.
Nichols didn't even manage to walk a meter before her throat was sliced, twice in fact. She fell to her back and gasps in agony, her hands clutching her deep wounds as her body went into shock.
Her attacker walked toward her with her dirty, bare feet. She was nowhere near done yet. Skillfully, she cut open the lower half of her dress. "Mother… Warmth…" The child began gutting her like a pig. The blade sunk into Nichols' abdomen repeatedly and the prostitute couldn't even scream due to her ruined throat.
In the end, Mary Ann "Polly" Nichols suffered until her last breathe. All because she refused to help an abandoned child and only cared about her own survival.
Her killer left with the prize, back to the darkest part of the Whitechapel. A waste-filled den she called home. She placed her new treasure on the ground, and slept on it like a pillow. Her mind dreaming of a better tomorrow with her mother's warmth.
That night, pitiful girl had her comfort with the blood dripping vagina of Mary Ann "Polly" Nichols. Later on the following months; with organs she harvested from Annie Chapman, Elizabeth Stide, Catherine Eddowes, and Mary Jane Kelly respectively.
Eventually this tragic soul succumbed to naturally causes and vanished into black smog of Whitechapel's alley ways. But her activity became a legend, and was later known as the unsolved mystery of the unknown serial killer of England; Jack the Ripper.
Author: I always think Nasuverse's Jack the Ripper is a little broken when back stabbing a female servant with low curse resistant. Oh wait... That is not broken.
Happy Halloween everybody, see ya all next time.