Been a while, hasn't it?
Reviewer Response:
Freak Apple: A "Frappe" is a milkshake. Isn't it amazing? Raid's just like duct tape.it's SO useful.
Alara-Sirinial-Amalon: Duly noted. I'm on my way to look at them as soon as I finish this.
L, Cryptic, Roquelle: Don't worry, backstory is coming. As in, right now.
DH: I did my best. Marco's got just as much to say as the others, he's also has a few jokes to throw in too.
Bmw, Triple Point: Ummm.did I actually say she died? Think about that one.
Chapter 10: Marco's POV
We were overhead. We saw everything.
We saw Ryan charge out the back door, and his mother fly over the back fence to meet him. We saw her give Ryan a boost over the fence, and get shot in the back.
And now, Ryan's in the neighboring yard, panicking.
[I'm going down there, to fight them off. One of you get him out of there!] Rachel exclaimed. She'd done this before, but I thought there was a flaw in that plan. You know, besides the "go kill everybody" part.
[Wait, he might recognize out thought-speak voices. You're the only one he doesn't know, Rachel. You talk him down, kill later,] I said.
[I'll go get the others,] Cassie said.
[All right, I'll guide him to safety. Don't make me go down there and save you.]
[Fine, Xena. Just don't kill Ryan because you're bored.]
* * *
Ryan's POV
Okay.
Did what I just think happened just happen?
I don't know. I didn't see.
"Mom?"
"Mom?"
[Ryan, right?]
She's ALIVE! YES!
Wait a second.wouldn't my mom know my name?
[Ryan, listen to me. If you want to survive this, do as I tell you. If you understand, clap your hands.]
It's not my mom. It's true. She's gone.
I clapped.
[Okay, run around the edge of this house. Open the gate and cross the street.]
I did as I was told. A few things began to dawn on me though. Mainly, how did this person know my name? How does she know where I am? And how can I hear a voice that I noticed has no sound?
[Listen, this may be hard to believe. A helicopter is on its way,]
Sure enough, there was one in the distance. Quite a ways away, though.
[There's no real way to hide you once the helicopter arrives. Look down.]
At my feet, there was a storm drain. The cap was removable, I'd been down there once on a dare.
[Hide in there. One of us will come to pick you up in a while.]
I did as I was told, again. There were no cops in sight, so they don't know I'm here. I went down into the hole, and closed the lid.
* * * Dear Boss,
I keep on hearing the police have caught me but they wont fix me just yet. I have laughed when they look so clever and talk about being on the right track. That joke about Leather Apron gave me real fits. I am down on whores and I shant quit ripping them till I do get buckled. Grand work the last job was. I gave the lady no time to squeal. How can they catch me now. I love my work and want to start again. You will soon hear of me with my funny little games. I saved some of the proper red stuff in a ginger beer bottle over the last job to write with but it went thick like glue and I cant use it. Red ink is fit enough I hope ha. ha. The next job I do I shall clip the ladys ears off and send to the police officers just for jolly wouldn't you. Keep this letter back till I do a bit more work, then give it out straight. My knife's so nice and sharp I want to get to work right away if I get a chance. Good Luck.
Yours truly
Jack the Ripper
Dont mind me giving the trade name
PS Wasnt good enough to post this before I got all the red ink off my hands curse it No luck yet. They say I'm a doctor now. ha ha
-Letter Received on September 27th, 1888 at the Central News Agency, London
* * *
September 28th, 1888. POV Unknown.
Commercial Street seems to be a simple road upon a man's first look. A few houses, stores, and the Christ Church.
I was walking down the Street with many a thought on my mind. A friend of mine had asked to meet me for tea today. Of course, I was happy to accept the invitation.
It is always difficult to leave the Church, as it is to leave any House of God. When I am in one, I always feel that he is watching over me moreso.
'Twas an average day, by weather. One who looks at the sky alone would believe that the neighbourhood of Whitechapel to be a peaceful section of London.
The neighbourhood of my flock is fouled. Fouled by a man who, in the dark, has been eviscerating women. Many of those I see every Sunday are spending their days gripped by fear.
If you have not yet ascertained my occupation, I am a churchman. A priest, to be proper. As a youth, it was almost clear that I would grow to become a man of the Cloth, for the very mark of our religion I wear across my body. Markings much like the Holy Cross adorn both my back and the rear of my hands.
Today, a friend of mine had called on me. He says that his place of business has received a letter supposedly penned by the scourge of the Whitechapel neighbourhood. He wants to show a copy to me.
If this letter is indeed from the man who slays the people, I must listen. For if I do not protect my flock, I forsake my holy duty.
I will not stand for this. Neither will Him.
* * *
Present Day. Ryan's POV
There I was. Hiding like a rat in a hole.
Well, technically, this was a hole. Some people may call me a "rat".
Anyway, whoever or whatever that voice was told me to wait in here. But how long? An hour? A day? I'll probably be hungry, soon.
Well, going back up would be suicide. I could hear the cop sirens above.
I would just have to wait here, alone.
Reviewer Response:
Freak Apple: A "Frappe" is a milkshake. Isn't it amazing? Raid's just like duct tape.it's SO useful.
Alara-Sirinial-Amalon: Duly noted. I'm on my way to look at them as soon as I finish this.
L, Cryptic, Roquelle: Don't worry, backstory is coming. As in, right now.
DH: I did my best. Marco's got just as much to say as the others, he's also has a few jokes to throw in too.
Bmw, Triple Point: Ummm.did I actually say she died? Think about that one.
Chapter 10: Marco's POV
We were overhead. We saw everything.
We saw Ryan charge out the back door, and his mother fly over the back fence to meet him. We saw her give Ryan a boost over the fence, and get shot in the back.
And now, Ryan's in the neighboring yard, panicking.
[I'm going down there, to fight them off. One of you get him out of there!] Rachel exclaimed. She'd done this before, but I thought there was a flaw in that plan. You know, besides the "go kill everybody" part.
[Wait, he might recognize out thought-speak voices. You're the only one he doesn't know, Rachel. You talk him down, kill later,] I said.
[I'll go get the others,] Cassie said.
[All right, I'll guide him to safety. Don't make me go down there and save you.]
[Fine, Xena. Just don't kill Ryan because you're bored.]
* * *
Ryan's POV
Okay.
Did what I just think happened just happen?
I don't know. I didn't see.
"Mom?"
"Mom?"
[Ryan, right?]
She's ALIVE! YES!
Wait a second.wouldn't my mom know my name?
[Ryan, listen to me. If you want to survive this, do as I tell you. If you understand, clap your hands.]
It's not my mom. It's true. She's gone.
I clapped.
[Okay, run around the edge of this house. Open the gate and cross the street.]
I did as I was told. A few things began to dawn on me though. Mainly, how did this person know my name? How does she know where I am? And how can I hear a voice that I noticed has no sound?
[Listen, this may be hard to believe. A helicopter is on its way,]
Sure enough, there was one in the distance. Quite a ways away, though.
[There's no real way to hide you once the helicopter arrives. Look down.]
At my feet, there was a storm drain. The cap was removable, I'd been down there once on a dare.
[Hide in there. One of us will come to pick you up in a while.]
I did as I was told, again. There were no cops in sight, so they don't know I'm here. I went down into the hole, and closed the lid.
* * * Dear Boss,
I keep on hearing the police have caught me but they wont fix me just yet. I have laughed when they look so clever and talk about being on the right track. That joke about Leather Apron gave me real fits. I am down on whores and I shant quit ripping them till I do get buckled. Grand work the last job was. I gave the lady no time to squeal. How can they catch me now. I love my work and want to start again. You will soon hear of me with my funny little games. I saved some of the proper red stuff in a ginger beer bottle over the last job to write with but it went thick like glue and I cant use it. Red ink is fit enough I hope ha. ha. The next job I do I shall clip the ladys ears off and send to the police officers just for jolly wouldn't you. Keep this letter back till I do a bit more work, then give it out straight. My knife's so nice and sharp I want to get to work right away if I get a chance. Good Luck.
Yours truly
Jack the Ripper
Dont mind me giving the trade name
PS Wasnt good enough to post this before I got all the red ink off my hands curse it No luck yet. They say I'm a doctor now. ha ha
-Letter Received on September 27th, 1888 at the Central News Agency, London
* * *
September 28th, 1888. POV Unknown.
Commercial Street seems to be a simple road upon a man's first look. A few houses, stores, and the Christ Church.
I was walking down the Street with many a thought on my mind. A friend of mine had asked to meet me for tea today. Of course, I was happy to accept the invitation.
It is always difficult to leave the Church, as it is to leave any House of God. When I am in one, I always feel that he is watching over me moreso.
'Twas an average day, by weather. One who looks at the sky alone would believe that the neighbourhood of Whitechapel to be a peaceful section of London.
The neighbourhood of my flock is fouled. Fouled by a man who, in the dark, has been eviscerating women. Many of those I see every Sunday are spending their days gripped by fear.
If you have not yet ascertained my occupation, I am a churchman. A priest, to be proper. As a youth, it was almost clear that I would grow to become a man of the Cloth, for the very mark of our religion I wear across my body. Markings much like the Holy Cross adorn both my back and the rear of my hands.
Today, a friend of mine had called on me. He says that his place of business has received a letter supposedly penned by the scourge of the Whitechapel neighbourhood. He wants to show a copy to me.
If this letter is indeed from the man who slays the people, I must listen. For if I do not protect my flock, I forsake my holy duty.
I will not stand for this. Neither will Him.
* * *
Present Day. Ryan's POV
There I was. Hiding like a rat in a hole.
Well, technically, this was a hole. Some people may call me a "rat".
Anyway, whoever or whatever that voice was told me to wait in here. But how long? An hour? A day? I'll probably be hungry, soon.
Well, going back up would be suicide. I could hear the cop sirens above.
I would just have to wait here, alone.
