Eager to please his Sergeant, new recruit Robert Jones arrived first on the scene. What he saw caused his throat to numb with fear and shock move all through his thin body. There, sitting up before him was none other than Mrs. Margo McAllister. She was the local schoolteacher but more importantly, she was the sergeant’s wife. The rest of the team were not far behind and McAllister was bringing up the rear.
Late as usual!
Robert saw it as his duty to inform the Sergeant of this unfortunate discovery, even if it did mean getting a swift punch in the jaw from one of the other men for making the Sergeant upset.
“Sir, I don’t know how to tell you this but…”
Robert's words failed him. The glare he received off of McAllister and the thought of what he had to tell him caused the recruit to freeze. McAllister pushed him to answer. Just before Robert tried to tell him again, someone came bounding toward the pair of them.
“Sir, I must inform you, the victim is your wife”!
McAllister stared helplessly at both of the men and insisted that he had to see the body. Slowly he walked around to where the body was sitting covered from the neck down by a black bin liner. There, with only one eye staring back at him was his beloved wife. McAllister screamed and fell to his knees cursing this very day. With some help from his team McAllister was escorted home where he vowed that he would no longer be working for Whitechapel’s police force.
A few days after the loss of his wife McAllister received a letter written in an all too familiar hand. With a feeling of dread he cautiously opened the yellowing envelope.
“My Dear Sergeant,
I could say I am extremely sorry for your loss. However, that would be lying and I, for one, don’t lie to the so- called law. I do however have a little something for you, which I will pass on with another letter in the near future. Believe me this will be of interest to you.
Keep your eyes open!!
Regards,
Good ol’ Jack”
Tears of rage and upset stung at McAllister’s eyes and quickly flowed like a stream down his large cheeks. What could this man possibly have which could be of any interest to him?
After an anxiety filled two days a parcel arrived at the sergeant’s wooden door. Once again it was in the same scrawled hand, which was used, in the previous letters. This time a knot of fear gripped at McAllister’s stomach and bile started to raise in his throat as he realised he had been given a bloodstained box. Fearfully he lifted a small corner of the lid, closed his eyes and pulled hard. What he saw in the box made him grab his stomach and bend over ill. There, in his hands was half of a black lung and his wife’s pearl wedding ring. Hastily, he unfolded the letter.
“Told you I had something of interest for you.
In your hands you hold half of your wife’s lung which she damaged because of her own filthy smoking. That wretch, Margaret, Margo to only friends hit and punished young children. What kind of caring teacher does that? So me being such a caring man I have taken liberty and decided I will soon tell you exactly how she died.
Yours,
Jack”
Weeks went by with no more correspondence from “Jack” but this did not put the sergeants mind at rest because every night he was dreaming about what this monster could have done to his wife. McAllister had been kept out of the loop regarding the injuries his wife sustained so imagine his disgust when the final letter arrived.
“Details of the murder of Sergeant McAllister’s witch:
I pretended to be a concerned parent and walked the cow half roads home. We cut up an alley for a “shortcut” and it was there I had my way with the evil schoolmistress. She tried to fight but was too weak for me. I then cut off her ring finger, I seem to do that a lot do not I sir? She was then tied to the fence by her hands and legs spread like an easy whore. I cut her from top to bottom, removed the blackened lung as a token for you. Then I removed the all seeing eye…the eye she used to pick children to punish. Evil witch!
That is how your woman died and I will continue to keep ripping these women who are society’s downfall.
Sweet Dreams,
Jack”
That final letter was the last straw. McAllister went back to work and swore dead he would find the monster that killed his wife.
Hunt Gone Wrong
Emily Craig was walking home from a day at her friends house on a cool spring night when she was approached by a stranger .He was wearing a long black coat, leather gloves, a large brimmed black hat, which was something like a Stetson and a scarf covering his face. The only visible part of his body was his dark eyes and long untidy hair. Emily thought this was a bit unusual considering the weather was not that cold but failed to question. Just the presence of the man made her feel apprehensive and uneasy. When he spoke, his voice was as cold as steel and a shiver went running through Emily’s delicate frame. He spoke slowly. “I wonder if you can help me Miss. I seem to be a little lost.” Although the mans presence made her feel awkward she offered to walk him to the local grocers as it was up one of Whitechapel’s dark alleys. Even in daylight you could get lost looking for the grocers, Emily thought. Therefore, both Emily and the man headed up one of the dark alleyways.
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