Jack

~Jack~

(introduction)...

Midnight...not a star in the sky, even the light of the moon is dimmed
by the thick covering of clouds in the night sky. Watching from the
window, he sees the familiar stranger, standing beneath the
streetlight. Clad in black from head to toe, a living part of the
night, the brim of his fedora pulled low, casting a shadow over his
face. He does not want to be recognized, for he is a wanted man, wanted
for crimes of long ago. Ladies of the night, high and reeking of
cigarettes and sin, pass him by as if he does not exist, but this only
brings a smile to his shadowed face. This night belongs to only one,
and she has yet to pass by. But the blade is in his pocket, waiting for
its promised use, and his insides burn with desire to let the world
know time has not buried the memories. The nightmare has returned -
Jack is back ...

****

The First to Fall

I.

He is watching again, trying to hide behind the curtain, but I can see
him in the window, still like a statue, unable to move when I am not
inside him. He is but a portal, a doorway granting entrance to today to
the reincarnation of time's most famous madman, London's Lucifer,
history's Ripper, or if you wish, Jack the Knife. He knows why I have
come, he knows my pleasure and the reason for my return, but can do
nothing to stop me before my task is complete.

II.

Underneath dim streetlight I wait, anticipation feeding my need to
spill blood, the blood of one who is no longer pure. One lost in her
promiscuity, willing and eager to give flesh in exchange for money.
Beautiful sinner soon to fall. Many pass by, all of them secretly
craving my blade for I am a reoccurring nightmare, a beast from the
past, I cannot be real. Surprise, my whorish friends, I have found
myself in the flesh again.

III.

A light drizzle begins to fall, tears of angels falling for approaching
death. Ah, there she is, young, barely a woman, beautiful, though I can
sense the scars of sin on her soul. She shall be the first in this new
era, my steel shall be forever stained with memories of her terror. I
reach out as she passes, my gloved hand gripping her by the arm. She
looks at me with numb eyes, unafraid. Ah, the beauty of naivety,
foolishly believing I am one of the many she will experience, but I am
the One who shall not be forgotten, I will be the last.

IV.

I lead and she follows. Not a word has been spoken, but there is a
seductive grin on her face, the thought of quick money overpowering the
sacrifices of the flesh. The alley is dark, silent save the falling
rain and desire's heavy breath. Her back against the wall, she waits,
need seeking my hunger. A step closer, my hand reaches out to caress
her cheek. My leather is cool and she shivers at my touch, longing
evident in her eyes. And then terror, ah sweet terror, as my knife
makes its presence known, gleaming in the moonlight. Before she can
scream my hand covers her mouth for death deserves silence and I will
not allow her cries to disturb my pleasure. Then my blade finds its
mark, piercing a whore's flesh, and I hold her while she dies, her eyes
wide with the horror or recognition. Her hands reach out, gently
touching my face, fingertips asking why she was chosen, but there is no
time to answer, for life is quickly fading ...another soul now forever
trapped in Hell's grasp.

V.

There by the window he watches the streetlight, awaiting my return,
knowing what I have done, seeing it through my eyes, feeling my
pleasure. She is but the first to fall, a new beginning to an awakened
nightmare. Again my name will be on everyone's lips, the stink of fear
shall quickly spread. And mine is the face they will take with them
into death ...