lordkaho
Creative!
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Discussion thread.
I
Man, by nature, is an insecure creature. Living in a reality where he wades at the bottom of the food chain, he must always strive to dominate others around him; an effort he only accomplishes thanks to his only weapon against nature- his brain. However, the human mind seeks not only survival through dominance of the elements, but even his fellow man is not safe from him. Such insecurities often creep at the darkest recesses of thought; grudge, hate, envy,ambition...Such are considered mortal sins that plague the soul.
And out of these, destructive volition sets course. Man is a super intelligent being, but sometimes when influenced by clouded emotions, he becomes very irrational. Paired with a twisted perception of the world, man becomes a destroyer or in some cases, an avenger.
One man in particular, thought he could right wrongs by 'weeding' out the evils of society, oblivious to how his own actions had made him.
Armed with a nasty array of blades, he stalked the foggy streets of London, in search of hapless individuals he deemed lost sinners; sacrificial lambs for his warped ideals of justice.
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September 1888
Whitechapel
The night went by coldly. Even by mid-autumn, the wind blew with an icy chill, leaving most of the populace to wrap themselves in whatever thick clothing to warm themselves.
The typical long, winding streets of London were unnaturally shrouded in ominous fog. Thick blankets of mist made walking around at night quite hazardous as even the town lamps could only illuminate so much.
At 11 O'clock in the evening, only a few people ventured into the dark, save for some who were on emergency errands and local police on patrol, armed with batons and a handy revolver should any delinquent stir up any trouble.
However, the real reason for the people's reluctance to leave the safety of their homes was a recent yet alarming case of a madman who prowled along the slums, killing people in a most vicious manner. The authorities made several attempts to track him down but he was very elusive, such that they were unable to draw in possible suspects. This serial killer was reported to have murdered two women so far, both prostitutes. Autopsy study on the bodies indicated that the cuts and lacerations were done with great surgical precision, adding more to the growing fear of the residents of Whitechapel.
As thus, local publications dubbed the madman...
"Jack the Ripper"
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Atop one of the slated roofs, two figures stood in watch.
A young girl, with short gray hair and wrapped from shoulder to heel with a ragged leather cloak, scanned the shanty street below until her eyes caught sight of a genteel man roughly in his mid 30's, dressed in quality black, with his coat billowing behind him and a matching top hat to compliment his sophisticated attire.
This man, was curiously tailed in by a woman with a rather seductive composure.
There were no indications as to what personal relation these two had, but it was clear what this soiled dove's intentions were.
The young girl continued watching them trail off into the distance for several minutes. Her cold, mechanical eyes gave an impression of lifelessness. A taller person beside her, a bespectacled buxom figure in a regal dress, who had a brightly ornate tiara over her short purple hair, flicked her finger as if in thought.
"Come, we came just in time" Her voice seemed to undulate in a very unearthly melody.
Her cat-like irises sharpened as she focused on the man in black.
"This is going to be quite a sight, fufufu" She chuckled, also baring a menacing set of predatory fangs.
***
At once, the little girl made a low squat then propelled herself into the air at great speed like a cannonball, subsequently landing on a nearby rooftop of an adjacent building. Below, she could see very well the middle aged man.
"Come on, Darling. I ain't cheap, but...We could rest at your place. It's such a scary night out here" said the lady.
The man only stared at her, with grim eyes hinting of disgust. He creased his lips and tried to shy away from her gaze.
"What's the matter? Now aren't you the shy one"
The man hesitated at her offer for a couple of minutes, the air grew dry as an awkward gap of silence distanced them, but eventually the man gave up. He looked at her, with a tip of the hat, and led her to a gloomy alley.
"This your place? Looks...rather shabby for a person like you"
"Oh no, just wait and see. You'll scream with delight when you see it" he replied, with a rather smug grin.
The walk went on until they passed very narrow passages along the slums, most of it were rather decrepit buildings in that portion of Whitechapel. The woman started to question the location of their 'destination' but knew this man was a rare catch and that it she wouldn't let go off this chance. This man was good money, she thought.
However, her fears were starting to get realized when the longer they went, the more run-down the surroundings became. Whole line of rats that would zoom along the pavement, trash littered everywhere with fumes that were almost suffocating, and houses that looked rather abandoned. Much of the depravity of the place was, fortunately for her, cloaked by the evening mist. She began to tip toe as went, in dread of stepping on something she would rather not know.
"W-Where exactly are we going?" her voiced wavered.
"Just a little closer, dear. I had it especially prepared should I encounter any guests along the way"
The duo from earlier kept following them from the roof tops. They soared through building to building like a pair of grass hoppers, silently monitoring the man and the lady's movements. The woman with purple hair noticed her small companion slowing down. She gave a look at her, and she looked quite bored. She wasn't able to convey emotions nor could she speak, but this woman knew how she was feeling by simply looking at her. She was her mother of sorts, in that it was her who created this young girl.
"Can't wait to do it, don't you my little pet? So do I. This man is particularly an interesting individual" she said as she fixed her glasses.
They crept up along the ledge of the roof as the people moved to a halt in front an old apartment complex. The man waved for the woman to come close to her, who in turn happily strode towards him. With a quick tug, he wrapped his arms around her, with their eyes meeting directly. His cold, piercing eyes were somewhat enough for the woman to lose her previous fears and now she was at a state of inexplainable comfort, despite being this close to this shady person whom she had met just now. It was such a mesmerizing feeling, as if she was under a trance.
"Close your eyes, love. I have something I want to show you" Such was the deliverance of his words that the woman semi-fainted at an instant.
"Fufufu. Who is this Casanova fellow?" The purple haired woman chuckled.
"So that's how you manage to lure them in. It is faint, but you can really feel the ether reverberating from his voice." She smiled then glanced at her partner, who was watching the two below very intently.
"How about it, my dear pet? Jack the lady killer is just a mere amateur magus."
The man, "Jack", looked at the witless lady on his arms.
This woman, he thought. A lost individual who succumbed to the cancer of system. A harlot who would rather sell herself for money, who would gladly throw her body at the whims of the equally vile English men. A maggot squirming from the decaying sector of society, responsible for motherless children who wander the slums. Forsaken and left to rot.
You...
A Mother who spreads ill corruption upon England. Catering to vices that produce off-spring that tear at the nation's dampened soul.
I shall end you.
The woman was still in a state of hypnosis, and while the spell has taken its due effect, the man quickly produced a razor. He slowly traced the blade across her neck, then up to her cheeks. He lifted his blade directly above her still vacated face, and prepares to land the gory strike.
"Now...Do it, Jack. Show me what it means to be murderer! Rip her throat out! Gut her open! Deliver the justice that this pathetic land deserves!" The purple haired woman's eyes shone with delight and anticipation.
However, her small partner couldn't wait. In a blink of an eye, she took off in a wake of thunderous agility, ripping off several tiles of the roof and flew towards the man.
"Oh no..." the woman pinched her forehead in disappointment.
The young girl landed directly in front of "Jack", startling him in the process. Cautious of the appearance of the girl, he had no time to rationalize what or who she was, but he immediately tried to hypnotize her with his voice.
"You will go away and forget all this"
But his words had no effect on the girl. Annoyed at her intervention, he quickly made do of the prostitute and slashed her neck with his blade. He dripped his hands with her blood and spread his palms at the girl.
"Blood of the Tainted. Blood of Evil. Blood of the Unclean. Diminish this soul with my hatred, as the bloody saint of death delivers due judgment upon the guilty!"
The blood on his hand evaporated into a deep violet gas whirling around his out stretched palm. But before the spell was finished, out of the young girl's cloak came a rusty mechanical appendage with a bayonet on the end. Such was the speed that, the man had no time to react and pull out his arm from being impaled by the blade. He jerked in agony as his now bleeding hand was stuck to the bayonet. Another appendage came out, this time it looked like a fan of spinning serrated blades. It immediately came for him, seeking to grind him within its cruel teeth of steel, but it only managed to slice his arm off, as out of nowhere, crimson chains came rattling from above. They constricted the destructive wail of the diabolic machinery from further shredding the man apart.
Seeing an opening for escape, the man quickly fled the scene. From above, at a nearby lamp post, was the figure of the purple haired woman, holding a thick strand of chains in her right hand.
"Easy there, my pet. This is not murder, but assassination."
The young girl retracted her devices into her cloak, then gave a lifeless stare at her master.
"To completely, murder someone, you must give them time to react and defend themselves. Let them struggle a bit. Though you did succeed in all that, I did not see enough fear in his eyes. Let him feel the full futility of his actions. But don't drag it for too long. Make it brief, but not too quick, capisce?"
However, not far away, they could hear the tapping hooves of an approaching horse; someone was nearing. Worried of the implications that may ensue, the two also left the scene, leaving the dead woman, her neck cut out, lying on the cold pavement and her blood painting the street red.
< Message edited by lordkaho -- 3/27/2012 2:23:11 >
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