Page 108 of The Diary of the Vam'pir Jacques

This was the first of what became known as the Ripper Victims, and her name was Polly Nichols. The killing made the papers, but it wasn’t taken much notice of until 8thSeptember when Annie Chapman was killed.

This time, the papers screamed blue murder (no pun intended) and linked the deaths of Polly Nichols with Annie Chapman.

Julia and I rightfully guessed that we had a serial killer on our hands. While the papers didn’t link Ada to Polly and Annie, we did. That was three victims. Vampiric curiosity was roused as the police announced they had received a letter with the murderer calling himself Jack the Ripper.

London reacted with horror, but nobody appeared to be solving anything. Investigations yielded no results. The detective, Frederick Abberline, appeared lost and didn’t have any leads.

Following the discovery of two more murdered prostitutes on September 30th, riots erupted. Elisabeth Stride and Catherine Eddowes had been killed within an hour of each other.

The mutilations were extreme, and the Vam’pirs in London searched for the guilty culprit.

But our senses picked up nothing, and they should’ve. The only reason they would’ve failed if it was a vampire doing the killing. By now, Li’zel and Ami, along with Pari and Emil, had joined Julia and me in London. There were six Vam’pirs hunting the Ripper.

Sadly, it was me who found him, or should I say… her?

Four nights before the murder of Mary Kelly, I was walking through the back streets of London when I saw an unusual sight. I had to look twice before I could believe my eyes.

A well-dressed woman hurried through the streets, accompanied by a manservant. The female belonged to high society.

Puzzled, I followed from a distance and was confused when she entered a slum. The fellow stood outside, and a while later, they left. Still curious, I followed, and then I noticed the Ripper.

He was shadowing them and hadn’t realised that I was also following. The Ripper moved quickly and struck the fellow on the head.

“Lady Elizabeth!” the man cried as he collapsed as a second blow hit him.

Wondering who the hell Lady Elizabeth was, I ran forward.

Holding a hand over the woman’s mouth, he dragged Lady Elizabeth into an alley and held a blade to her throat. Elizabeth’s eyes widened, and she hung limply in his arms.

Clearly, she knew who held her. I reached out and grabbed an incredibly strong man.

I found myself being thrown back against a wall, and the Ripper turned towards me with the weapon poised to be thrown, and then he paused.

With a muffled sob, the Ripper threw the knife and grabbed a black bag from the ground and ran away.

I had little time to reflect before the lady fainted. I rushed to catch Lady Elizabeth before she soiled her clothing in the filth that lined the streets.

There was a groan from behind, and the manservant rose unsteadily to his feet. My eyes widened in surprise as he pulled a wicked-looking knife from inside his coat, and, facing me, he thrust it forward.

“Why don’t you let the lady go?” he rasped, still trying to clear his head.

I smiled reassuringly, or so I thought.

I began, “Now look here, man—”

“I know what you are. Release the lady now.”

“Do you want your mistress laid in the filth? I think not. I am not the one that struck you. He was chased off. Shall we get Lady Elizabeth somewhere safe and away from prying eyes? I’m sure that although the citizens of lower London would like a show, I am not quite prepared to give them one.”

I nodded my head towards the top of the alley, where several figures were lurking in the shadows. The manservant considered my words, and then signalled me forward.

“I’ll be right behind you,” he said, the threat all too obvious in his voice.

Unconcerned, I walked out of the alley and walked to a more reputable part of the district. Once there, the lady started to rouse, and she opened violet-coloured eyes that held me spellbound.

Confusion reigned for an instant until she realised that an unknown man was carrying her through the streets of London.

“Put me down; I can walk,” she exclaimed in panic. Without further argument, I set Lady Elizabeth down.

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