I swiftly move down the busy streets, towards my lodging. Only six grueling hours to wait; that's if Warren will answer my request. My telegram was short and this time, I sent it to the police station, less likely to be read by others...I hope.
Detective Samuel Warren stop
Meet me at 10 p.m. stop
Friend stop
Either he'll be at the pub, as a friend, or with constables to arrest me. It's a risk I must take, there is too much at stake. My mind whirls like a child's toy top, only to eventually teeter and fall over....dead, stop.
As I reach my room, the air feels dry and hot, a strange quiet has occupied the space. Letting my self in, I stand in the doorway, the hair on the back of my neck stands up...
Hello Jack, nice to see you. I am face to face with my nemesis. We need to talk my friend...about...many things.
All I want to do is run my knife across his throat...so slowly and deeply...allowing him to scream in agony, until all his evil blood has evacuated on to the wood floor, making a huge crimson carpet.
I know what you're thinking Jack. You forget... how well I know you. Would you risk it though...what would your new friend think then? That you killed all those poor women, your insane, a demented madman unable to control his need for mutilating flesh...Jack, The Ripper. Smoke wisps above his head as he takes a long drag off his cigarette.
When did you become such a f'ing bastard? Were you that jealous? A low rumbling laugh hums along the floor boards, creeping up my spine.
Jealous? Really Jack, you hurt me. You never had anything I wanted and besides, I take whatever I want...it's just that simple. And what is it you want now? Stop interfering Jack or you will live to regret it for a very long, long time. You have a great deal to risk loosing...is it worth it? You know I can't stop...I won't stop. I grit my teeth so hard, my jaw starts to hurt. He just sits there, looking detached, devoid of feeling, emotion, or even a conscious. The bile in my stomach starts to rise in my throat, burning like acid...I hate this man with passion, possibly equal to his passion for evil.
Don't...be foolish, my dear Jack. He moves towards the door and I step in his direction, our eyes meet and I see a burning flame, so hot, my own eyes start to water. I stand there, rooted to the floor, watching him exit, tears streaming down my face. It would be very unwise of you to follow me, so don't. The doorway is empty, so I launch through it and come up to the railing, hanging over, I look down and there he stands at the bottom of the steps. He stopped to light another cigarette; taking a long drag and without looking back at me. So, you're really ready to risk it all now....Jack...how disappointing. No! I will play your f'ing game...and the next time we meet...I will kill you!
A signature smile curls up on his face and he walks out.
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