The Rippers legacy

Once upon a night like this, when stars shine bright and lovers kiss, there walked along a cobbled path a being of hate and list and wrath. His strides were long, athletic and quick. The bag that he carried seemed joined to his hip. And so he would travel through Whitechapel’s lanes, thinking up ways to inflict grievous pain. Around him he saw a sick world of desire that surely deserved to burn in Hell’s fire. The whores on their corners were the major culprits that dragged good men down in iniquity’s pit. Charming he looked in his top hat and cane. A gentleman he seemed of respectable name. The whores, he knew, would be definitely pleased. This man had the means with which to pay their fees. In allies of darkness, death descended on them. Out of each rugged quarry he extracted a gem. They were keepsakes for him to remember them by. One’s kidney he ate after it had been fried. His name’s Jack the Ripper, and he’s never been found. For all that we know he might still be around. Because evil like that takes a long time to die. The Devil takes care of his offspring, that’s why.