Chapter One: The Rippers Back

By Blunt Reality

Introduction

Note: this story will have sexual content, gore, explicit content pretty much. It will be a longer story, my second Fan Fiction here. Me and Silver Hair Fox wrote Heat Kills together. Please do read and rate this chapter and the rest after its up so I know what you are thinking. I wont hate anyone. I'm the type who will say I love you when you say you hate me :), hope you all enjoy!

It was a cold, ruthless night. The people walking the streets of Vegas had a chill to there bones, an unusual thick fog was making visibility seem next to impossible for those unfortunate few who were driving out at three in the morning. Tonight the streets and their sidewalks were for once in a long, long time pretty much abandoned. But some still squinted through the thick fog. It was almost eerie, some later would claim it a 'supernatural' fog that was taking Los Vegas by storm tonight. The chill it brought was both physical and spiritual. It gave you the dreadful feeling that something horrible was at work. And the worse thing was that there was something at work, and it was an evil thing. There was something terrible at work now.

A young woman was returning home from a good enough few hours on the strip, only getting two customers but getting about a hundred dollars out of it, enough to get in this months pay check. She was a prostitute. A whore in other words who sold herself out to pay her rent. People despised her for her profession. Some even wanted her dead, but none so much as a person in a cape and top hat. The figure was shadowing her closely, in fact about four feet at the most. This figure was walking so very quietly behind her, though she still checked over her shoulder every other step. She had gotten the feeling that she was being watched. Though the truth was she was not. This stalker was listening too her own feet since he could not see here through the thick fog. Fallowing her footsteps, waiting for a moment to strike.

The fog did its job since not once when the woman looked back did she see the stalker. The person listened so carefully and closely to her steps. The uneasy feeling caused her stride to lengthen, in result so did the others. She whipped around and saw no one, but as soon as she turned her head the figures arms snaked out, strongly wrapping around her neck, cutting off the woman's circulation and not allowing air too get into her screaming lounges. Little sounds of muffled choking and sputtering and gasping were barely audible even to the assailant. She flailed about, hitting the arms and what ever she could. But as soon as she blacked out she was dropped. She was not dead… yet. The other person grabbed her feet and dragged her into an alley entrance.

The other wasted no time to get too the job, or the persons art, whichever one you wants too call it, it really doesn't matter. What ever you call it, it doesn't change the fact this girl was fucked. A devilish grin on the persons face as a gleaming sharp knife was pulled out, a wicked laugh was given just for her to hear as she was coming back to reality. Too bad, she would have been best out for this part. She screamed once. Loud and shrill as the blade sliced into her belly. Blood gushing out as the blade cut deeper and deeper. Skilled and straight. She twisted, on her back she tried to crawl away, but the figure quickly flipped the dieing girl over, too much pain to even make a sound. Gasping as she felt something being cut out from her belly region. Tears spilling out her eyes, mixing with the dark red blood, the scent of death was added to the already morbid night.

CSI's Greg Sanders, Warrick Brown, Gill Grissom, and Alysha Taylor were all now just exiting Warrick's car. He had been driving instead of Alysha. She had started out, but her fast driving, weaving through traffic and just plane insane driving had caused a vote too get her out from behind the wheel, which had caused Alysha too be pouting in the back for the rest of the trip to a poor Vegas back alley way. They had been called out too a crime scene in the entrance of an alley for a case that was being named the strangest murder, and already labelled as a copy cat, but they had no clue as of too who the copy cat was since they hadn't gotten much details. Even from twenty feet it was obvious she was cut up. The belly was open wide, she had been found after the thick fogs had vanished in the morning. They had been informed that this girl had been all cut up. And what they didn't know just yet was how something was missing, taken. They all stopped dead in their tracks at one sight though. Greg looked confused and surprised with who was being copy cat'ed. A disturbed look falling over Gills expression.

Blood was absolutely every were. The corps of the woman still sprawled out near a wall on the far side of the alley entrance. Surprise was on the others faces, except for Alysha; her face had disgust on it, hatred even. On the wall behind the woman was writing, and as if a way to let it sink in Alysha read it aloud.

"Jack, Jack, THE RIPPERS BACK"

she said, twisting her facial features

"another sick fuck"

she sighed walking a few steps more towards the scene.

Jack the Ripper, a old famed murderer who plagued London City in 1888. He might not have killed many, but how he was never captured and how people still fought over who he was today. Some even had the rumours that he was so evil he would be resurrected and plague another city. This was one sick joke. No, it was no joke. This person had to be serious. It was just another sick motherfucker on the loose. Alysha knew tons on Jack the Ripper, she had taught herself about him, and he was the one who fascinated her most. Or she.

It was impossible for the original sick asshole to be alive, since the real guy had too have been dead forever. Hundred or so years now, no, over that of course. No matter, it was a blood curdling thought on how a murderer of the kind would be on the loose. And the dreadful waiting for more bodies, unless they caught him before it was too late. Too have a loon fallowing the world famous 'Jack the Ripper' stalking the streets of Vegas could cause a wave of panic. Off the original rippers turf, now here in Vegas. Greg couldn't bring himself to say anything. For once.

Gill Grissom gave a long heavy sigh

"right now I feel like I'm horizontally parked in a parallel universe,"

he said just loud enough for his team members around him to hear. They stepped forward together and one of the cops guarding the scene jogged over too them.

"Gill Grissom?"

he questioned looking to Gill.

Gill nodded stiffly, looking past him too the scene, getting annoyed already, he could leave one of the others too deal with the cops. He wished he could. But the man started his talking again. Stupid young cops here wanting to take charge.

"I was the first responding officer too the scene"

the man said proudly, a wiseass tone in his vocals,

"A jogger located her body this morning, a Robert Flagger. We have him in police custody four blocks out"

he took in a breath, it was hard too make out his speed speaking, but they all, except for a lost looking Greg managed too make out most of what he was saying.

"His record is clean. But still I think that this guy didn't commit the murder. From appearance the murderer had skill with a blade, from all we found out is that this guy cant even gut a fish correct, let alone a girl… and she is a Jane Dou… Oh! And I am Officer Langelle! Don't forget it"

Grissom was tired of the babbling quick talking officer already. In fact, he was sure he had been since he first set eyes on that little creep. He spoke with command in his voice when he was just another struggling cop wanting too earn a name. He had a bad appearance, stained uniform, crumbs over it, he was obviously out of shape, but he was young, most likely his twenties. Alysha frowned, Gill noticed, thanking god he wasn't the only one who appeared to already dislike this man. 'I hope I can forget this obnoxious looser' Alysha thought to herself bitterly, she had been in a rather bad mood because she was voted out of driving, she takes those little things hard. Alysha was examining the blood puddle. She beat Gill too ordering everyone to remove their shoes for evidence since there was sure as hell more than five prints. At the lease.

"Okay, SHOES EVERYONE! All cops, and the suspects, and anyone else who was here. Shoes."

Few people moved to remove their foot wear. Gill jumped in with an angry and loud command.

"NOW PEOPLE! SHOES NOW"

Gill had not at all been pissed off by Alysha's moment in charge. She was a wild card and he was used too it, he enjoyed her skill and precision. He had known her since she was eighteen, before all the others and viewed her as a daughter. He had worked on a case. Hers. She had once been the most unfortunate victim. She could be really funny and sarcastic and lots of the team members looked too her for a laugh in hard times. Though he knew she had secrets that he only knew besides perhaps two others. Something that shows in her eyes. She isn't always the happiest girl alive.

They worked a few hours collecting evidence. Greg looked at Alysha, the corpse already moved.

"Think the guy took something out?"

he asked Alysha as she continued scavenging for more evidence. She stopped looking too Greg, grinning wearily

"appears so, my guess is he removed the woman's reproductive system. Seeing as he is a copycat of the Ripper"

She spoke matter of factly, liking the ashen look that fell over Greg, grinning wider, than playfully frowning at Greg and pouting, giving him a playful, fake disciplining shake of her finger at him

"and who, Mr. Sanders, said it was a guy, us girls can be just as evil as guys at times, even how hard it seems"

she turned around and continued searching for evidence.