Chapter 1

LOCAL PROSTITUTE FOUND BRUTALY MURDERED IN BUCKS ROW

1888, November

BY: Edward Whistler

An investigation has begun for the mysterious murder after he killed 42-year-old prostitute, Polly Nickels after she was found on Friday November 13th in a small ally way in Bucks Row. Her body was discovered twenty minuets after she had died by a traveling merchant. She was said to of had been cut with a knife through her neck and abdomen and she seemed to be missing some internal organs. Her bowls were bursting from her wound as if someone had reached a hand inside of her. We believe that she approached the murder to try and get him to pay for her "services" but he overpowered her, raped her and then murdered her. The authorities are still looking for this murder and if you know of any information that could help find this killer the authorities know for a cash award.

My father stood over me after he dropped the article on my lap. The newly printed-paper felt warm in my hands and smelled like drying ink. I knew this story was my father's big break he had been hoping for but it seemed so bland. The stories that made the front page were exciting and had a preppy sound to them, but my father had a professional writing style that always got him writing police reports or obituaries. His story made the second page today and he was overjoyed to see it there.

"Second page today, first page tomorrow," He remarked always making things positive. That's what I always liked and hated about my dad. He never saw the negative side of life and refused to talk about it. He almost seemed too happy. Funny how the happy man is the onecharged with writing about crimes and death. As I start to adjust my prosthetic leg to stand my father stops me.

" Son, can you not look at things in a good way, it's been three years since the accident and your still moping around like it happened yesterday."

As I grabbed my cane and stood I said, " Its terrible being stuck in a job with my father and being held back by a disability. You don't understand. I wanted to be in the army as long as I could remember but the accident ruined all that I have ever hoped and worked for."

" You need to look for something new to focus your life on and stop being the sorry chap all the time. You will never amount to anything if all you do is mope around and give up on life. So you can't do what you always wanted to do look for new adventures and explore new things. That's the meaning of life. Only through trial and error can you find where you belong."

" I have done nothing to deserve this, there was no trial opportunity. I had no chance to even try. The army does not accept cripples."

" No it dose not but neither do most other places you should be happy with what you have."

Irritated I got up and began my paper route. The air was thick and smoggy yet this was normal for this time of year. The breeze swept with it the smell of an upcoming storm. The busy streets were packed with people, hurrying along to start their day's work. Women pass by quickly, dragging their children along; Men of each social class move quickly along to their places of employment. The day seemed like any other and I had absolutely no reason to suspect anything.

But that's not how life works.

As I was moving through the mass of people, I was yanked back by a hand that somehow grabbed my shoulder. I stumbled into a dark ally way, only to be greeted with the sight of a green riders' hooded masked figure. The thick gloves were the last things I saw, as the world blacked out, and I hit the cobblestone pavement.

Authors Note: Thanks to all the support and reviews. I would especially like to thank MarkTheTinyGiraffe who helped me end this chapter and edited my work. Please comment and enjoy my story. -Eliza