• He had every intention of killing her. Every single cell in his body screamed for him to do it. He had to, he needed to, hell he wanted to. But he couldn’t move; the silver blade hovered over her still body. slit her throat, his voice commanded. The blade inched towards her throat. She sighed. He held his breath. She turned slightly so she was now facing him. He stared. She was so breath taking. Her long, black hair complimented her slightly pale face; the sheets were wrapped tightly around her slender figure.
    He gripped the handle on the knife tightly and positioned it near her throat. she’s not the first pretty girl I’ve killed before, he thought. His arms refused to move. He wanted to growl in frustration but knew the noise would cause her to wake. tomorrow night, you’ll be mine. And with that, he slipped out the window.
    ***

    I wouldn’t say my life is full of adventure; it is some what bleak. I, Ronnie Haze, is your average, everyday girl, trying to get through college…well community college.
    “Ronnie, have you been reading about the serial killer?” I took a sip of my coffee. “Yes, I have. What of it?”
    My dad put the news paper down and said, “I just want you to be more careful coming from the community college, since your classes are at night.”
    I nodded, “I’ll try driving more often then.”
    “Even then be careful. It seems like this ‘Jack the Ripper’ guy watches his ‘prey’ for a while and then attacks.”
    I raised an eyebrow, “Jack the Ripper? Like the guy from the Whitechapel murders?” My father nodded.
    “It seems to be a copy cat.”
    “That’s twisted.”
    He nodded in agreement. Glancing at his watch, my dad almost knocked over his chair. “I’m going to be late if I don’t go now. Love you sweetie, be safe.” I nodded and with the slam of the door, he was gone. jack the ripper, eh?
    I’d been fascinated with the Whitechapel murders a while back. They happened in 1888 up to 1891. This supposed ‘Jack the Ripper’ guy was killing prostitutes in the Whitechapel area. The murders would happen early in the morning and he would slit their throat twice from left to right and then mutilate their torsos.
    He would sometimes disembowel his victims and take an organ. They never discovered who murdered the women, only that he had gone by Jack the Ripper. But even then, people believed that the letter sent by Jack the Ripper was a complete hoax. I picked up the newspaper my father had been reading and started scanning the new headline.
    The media has now dubbed the guy as ‘Jack the Ripper’. The only difference between this guy and the original is that the new guy carves the initials JTR over the heart and gives them the ‘Chelsea grin’ look. Also, this guy didn’t take anything from the sometimes disemboweled body.
    I shuddered slightly. Knowing that this was going on in our own community wasn‘t exactly a pleasant thought. Placing the paper back on the table, I heaved myself out of the chair and went to go take a shower. Walking into my room, I noticed that the window was left open.
    “Strange, I don’t remember opening it last night.”
    Shrugging my shoulders, I closed the window. I had unfinished homework to do and work at two. “Let’s do this,” I mumbled.
    ***

    “See you Thursday afternoon,” my co-worker called after me. I waved and walked towards my car. I took my fathers advise and decided to drive tonight. I was also feeling slightly paranoid. All day I felt like I was being watched, even at home.
    My grumbling stomach took my mind off the eerie feeling. I stopped and grabbed something to eat -to go of course. I noted that I had another thirty minutes before my classes started. Indulging myself in the fattening sandwich, I didn’t even notice the guy walk up to my window until he knocked.
    I jumped slightly and looked at the intruder. He smiled sheepishly and asked if I had jumper cables; his car wouldn’t start. I eyed him warily. The man gave me a lopsided smile, like he knew what I was thinking.
    “I’m not the Ripper, swear. I just need help,” a slight pause, then, “Please?”
    Sighing, I helped start his car, during which I actually took in his features. He looked no older than 23 and no taller than 5’8. He had dark brown hair and dark eyes, so dark they almost looked black. His tight fitted shirt showed off his lean body.
    I stopped staring before I started drooling. Placing the jumper cables back in my trunk, he pointed at my window. “Coming back from school?” he asked with too much curiosity.
    I didn’t exactly think it was any of his business but he had this allure to him that made me want to tell him everything I knew.
    “No, actually I’m about to go to school.”
    “This late?” he asked incredulously. I nodded my head, “Only time the classes I wanted were offered.” He shook his head in disbelief, “Well, I’ll let you go then. Thank you again.” As he was driving away, it dawned on me that I never got his name.

    ***


    He watched her go home, speak to her dad and he watched as she worked on her school work. He watched her intently as she undressed to shower. Smooth skin and silky black hair; she is gorgeous. He shook his head at the thought. she has to die, he thought.
    Seeing his victim and her surroundings fall quiet, he went in for the kill. For real this time. He refused to give up just because the girl was pretty. i’m not developing feelings for her, he repeated over and over.
    Silently and effortlessly, he slipped in through her window. this is it, he thought. No more stalling. Slowly, he crept his way towards her bedside, careful not to make any noise. Standing over her, he brought out his blade. He stood still for a moment, staring.
    A dog barked in the distance.
    A truck roared by.
    And to his horror, something fell with a thud! in her room. Her eyes fluttered at the sound and then they settled on him. Panic was written all over her face. Without thinking, he threw himself at her.
    She struggled hard to throw him off. He wondered why she hadn’t screamed yet and she must have thought the same thing because at that moment, she decided to open her mouth. He was fast to cover it; she didn’t even have a chance to sigh. The girl flailed her arms, kicked her legs, and twisted her body.
    He straddled her hips, immobilizing her. He grabbed her hands with his free one and pinned them above her head. Fury and fear were evident in her eyes. what now, he thought.
    “You utter a single word and I swear I will slit. your. throat.” He made sure to emphasize the last three words.
    “You understand?” She nodded. Slowly, he took his hand away from her mouth. She screamed. Growling, he raised the knife; she screamed louder. A door opened, footsteps echoed in the hallway. He glared at the girl, “Tell him I’m here and I promise you I will kill him and kill you slowly.”
    He stood behind the door just as it opened. “Ronnie?” a mans voice sounded.
    “I’m fine dad, just had a nightmare. Go back to sleep.” He slightly stepped into her room, hesitated and then said, “Alright honey. Get some rest.”
    “Dad?” He turned to look at her.
    “I love you.”
    He smiled slightly, “Love you too.” The door closed. She glared over at the man in the mask. “Kill me, but leave him alone.”
    The masked man stared at her, obviously appalled.
    “Your Jack the Ripper, aren’t you?”
    He nodded.
    “Then kill me,” she urged, sounding a bit hysterical. When the man didn’t move, she got out of bed and approached him. She grabbed the knife in his hand and placed it on her neck. “Do it.” He noticed that she was violently shaking.
    She glared at him intently.
    “So you’re all talk? You’re not going to slit my throat like you promised?” She was pressing her luck and they both knew it.
    “Pathetic.”
    The Ripper jerked the knife slightly causing her to gasp.
    “Don’t.Test.Me.” he said through gritted teeth. Blood trickled down her neck. The urge to kill her was fading fast and that scared him the most.
    “If I wanted you dead, you would have been the first night I came into your home,” the Ripper admitted.
    Ronnie’s eyes grew big, “This isn’t …your first time?” He shook his head. Not thinking about what she was doing, she reached for the door; she intended to run. The Ripper grabbed her arm and slung her onto the bed.
    Again, she started to struggled. This time, instead of flailing her arms, she reached for his mask; she succeeded in tearing it off. Who she saw shocked her the most.
    ***

    “You?” I whispered. The Ripper quit struggling with me and gripped my hands tightly. His brown hair tickled my nose, those black eyes went blank. It was the guy from the parking lot. The one who sweetly smiled when he asked me for help, the one who thanked me kindly for my assistance. Yes, that kind guy is Jack the Ripper.
    This gorgeous guy that I thought I would never see again was straddling me on my bed, trying to kill me. Should I feel flattered or scared at the fact that this guy decided to stalk me? I banished the thought all together. I had a more pressing problem at the moment.
    My ability to speak left me when I saw a hint of guilt gleaming in his onyx eyes. “Guilt?” I whispered. impossible!
    “I believe I fell for you…” Although he spoke barley above a whisper, his words slammed into my chest. Fell for me? Ha! Then that’s when I realized this guy couldn’t possibly be the Ripper!
    This was all some sick, twisted joke! There is no way this guy killed all those girls. There was just no way!
    “You’re not the Ripper.” I growled. He blinked a few times and smiled.
    “Of course. You think I’m just some creep. You’re wrong.”
    I shook my head, “I would have been dead if you were the Ripper! He doesn’t spare anyone!”
    “I believe he just made an exception.”
    “You.Are.Not.Him.”
    “Believe what you want girl, but you are definitely face to face with the killer.”
    “Prove it to me.”
    He looked at me carefully, calculating everything I said and did. Finally, coming to a decision, he slowly let go of me. When he decided that I wasn’t going to run, he got off me and started pacing.
    “I’m a little different from the original Jack the Ripper.” he started. He looked at me. I realized then he was waiting for me to nod, so I did.
    “I don’t always disembowel my victim, I don’t take anything from my victim either. I’m not that twisted. I mark my…”
    He stopped, thinking of how he should word the next part. He continued.
    “…My art with JTR over the heart and I give them the Chelsea grin before I part. Like the Ripper, I slit their throats twice. I attack at night. I attack the female population.”
    He paused. I took advantage of his moment of silence.
    “I read all of what you just told me in the newspaper, you probably did too and just recited it to me.”
    The look on his face told me he knew that I was going to point that out.
    “Tell me something I don’t already know,” I said. He smiled at me.
    “Have you noticed that all the girls I’ve killed have similar qualities? Long black hair, hazel eyes, pale skin, a missing parent. Have you noticed that I’ve killed in this general area? If you connect the dots on a map of this area in order in which the girls died, it makes a heart.
    I’ve made contact with every girl in some sort of way. With you, I asked to use your jumper cables, which I knew you had. I take two weeks to get to ‘know’ my victim and then in the third week I make the move to kill them. I don’t ever hesitate to kill.”
    The Ripper stopped at this and glanced at me.
    “Well, with the exception of you…” While he was talking, he masked his emotions well, but when he looked at me, it was like the barrier on his mask was wearing thin. I could see frustration, guilt, fury, pain, kindness and then it was gone before I could take a breath.
    “You know,” he said, kneeling in front of me, “you were suppose to be my first kill.” I gasped.
    “Yes, I know. You broke my heart, love. I’m sure you don’t remember but in middle school, we had classes together. You befriended me when no one else would. I had a crush on you, you were kind to me and oh did I believe you liked me too. But one day, you introduced me to your boyfriend.
    Feeling hurt and confused, I yelled at you. I told you I never wanted to see you again. You yelled back. You told me that that was okay with you, you didn’t care for me anyway. I never forgot the look in your eyes as I turned to leave. You gave me a stoic look but your eyes told me you were hurt.
    I could never forget you. Never. You were always circling around in my head. I dated girls, but I realized they all looked similar to you. Then I came to the conclusion that I had to kill you. I dropped out of college and planned your epic death. It was going to be in the newspapers, it was going to be grand! I wouldn’t leave behind any clues. You’re death would be unsolved.
    I loved the idea. It consumed me. Then I heard about the Whitechapel murders and I knew what I was going to do. Your murder would become famous!”
    I flinched when he suddenly stopped and touched my face. He jerked his hand away and looked at the floor. “Sorry…”
    This guy wasn’t joking. He is Jack the Ripper and I…caused it? My head was spinning and I began to feel lightheaded. He suddenly began talking again and I listened attentively.
    “I had it all planned out. Ready to set into motion. Four months ago I snuck in through your window and was ready to kill you. But when I saw you, I almost dropped to my knees. You were just as breath taking in person. Of course I had been watching you but to see you up close I-I couldn’t bring myself to kill you. So, I started killing girls that looked like you.
    The first time I killed, I threw up right after I left her house. But it got easier. The JTR over the heart just symbolized my broken heart. The Chelsea grin was just something that I became intrigued with. Man, the papers ate that story up! They loved the fact that there was a copy-cat out there.
    So I killed again and again. It became like some sort of game, finding all these girls that looked like you…Then finally, I thought I was ready to kill you last night. I failed again. Now I’ve been caught. My plan was flawed to begin with.”
    There was a menacing look in his eyes as he talked. At that moment it finally hit me who this man was.
    “Jacoby!” I gasped.
    His head snapped up, eyes wide, “You remember me?”
    “Vaguely, but now I remember that day too.”
    Jacoby gave me a sad smile.
    “Well, now that you’ve discovered my identity, I assume you want to call the cops now? I swear I won’t run,” he said nonchalantly.
    That made me think for a moment. Nothing interesting has ever happened in my bleak life and then Jacoby suddenly appears? In a twisted sort of way, he is the best thing that has happened to me. I didn’t want him to go. The thought of him rotting in a jail cell made me panic.
    I couldn’t do that. “I-I don’t want to call the police…” I said in a small voice. Jacoby’s façade faltered, “What?”
    “I’ don’t want to call the police,” I repeated. He looked almost relieved. Almost. “Why not?” he asked.
    “I’m not really sure.” I lied. He ran his hand through his hair and chuckled, “Even now, you are just as complicated.” He didn’t give me a chance to respond before he picked up his blade and walked towards my window.
    “Where are you going?” I asked, frightened at the fact that I was saddened at the idea of him leaving. He raised an eyebrow, “Home?” I stared at his blade. He caught me looking.
    “I believe Jack the Ripper needs to be put to rest.”
    I nodded in agreement. With that, Jacoby disappeared into the darkness.
    ***
    Every night Jacoby would tap on my window and stay for a while. He didn’t want to deprive me of my ‘beauty rest’, so he would leave when he noticed I was fighting to stay awake.
    “I’m not tired,” I protested one night.
    “Liar.”
    Jacoby propped his head up on his hand, black eyes sparkling.
    I have to constantly remind myself that he still is a killer and I couldn’t develop feelings for him. But he is making it impossible for me to do that.
    Those onyx eyes stunned me into speechlessness on many occasions. It was embarrassing.
    “I’m leaving now,” he said when I started to space out.
    “Not yet!” I shot up out of my chair pretty fast and immediately regretted it.
    My head began to spin and I tripped over my books trying to regain my balance. Effortlessly, Jacoby caught me, with one hand I may add, and steadied me.
    “Bed. Now.”
    I grumbled incoherently and headed towards my bed.
    “Will I see you tomorrow night?” He nodded as he cut off my desk lamp. He seemed to be thinking about something when he came over to my bedside.
    “Spit it out,” I ordered with a yawn. Without a word, he kissed me lightly on the cheek.
    “Good night love.” Blushing, I managed to say, “Good night my Ripper.”
    I heard him chuckle as he slipped out my window.
    The next night he appeared later than usual. He was shaking, sweaty, and out of breathe.
    “Jacoby? Are you ok?”
    He nodded.
    “Then, why are you all nasty?”
    He laughed at my response, “I fell asleep and didn’t wake up until 20 minutes ago. I ran all the way here.” He slipped off his jacket, revealing his knife.
    “Why do you have that?”
    He stared at it and then said indifferently, “I don’t feel safe running through the woods.”
    I snorted, “That’s ironic.”
    He chuckled, “I suppose.” He asked to use my bathroom and I pointed him in the right direction.
    While he was gone I took a peek at his knife. this is the blade he used on those girls, I thought with a shudder. That’s when I noticed stains on the blade.
    “Odd,” I whispered. I pushed the jacket off the blade and took a closer look.
    To my horror the stains on the knife were fresh.He had killed again. I jumped when I heard his voice.
    “Ronnie?” Whirling around, I pushed the jacket back over the knife.
    “What are you doing?” he asked, a little alarmed at my proximity to the blade. I shrugged, “Nothing. I just wanted to get on my bed but your stuff was on it and I didn’t uh- want to move it…” I trailed off, knowing that he wouldn’t believe me.
    He didn’t. His eyes narrowed.
    “You are a horrible liar.”
    I shrugged my shouldered, “I suppose.” An awkward silence fell between us- then I bolted for the door. With a bored expression, Jacoby threw me onto my bed. I assumed he had done this enough that it didn’t really faze him.
    “Let go! You said you wouldn’t do it again! You promised!” I was well aware of the fact that I was lying on the blade.
    “I didn’t promise anything. I said it was time to put him to rest. The urge hit me again, I had to do it.”
    “You didn’t have to do anything! Don’t touch me! Get off!”
    Before I could utter a string of profanities, he kissed me full on the lips. I gasped at the sudden contact. He took advantage of my moment of shock to explore my mouth. My protests died down, my struggling weakened.
    ***

    This was so wrong. Utterly wrong. Jacoby knew better but he couldn’t control himself any longer. He wanted her. And he knew she wanted him too. She just had better control than he did. He kissed her cheek, her jaw, her neck, her collar bone.
    He wanted her clothes off, but resisted the urge to tear them off. Instead, he ran his hand under her shirt and softly touched her torso. She moaned. He twitched. Oh what that did to the lower half of his body.
    Finally, Ronnie stopped resisting him and proceeded in taking off his shirt. She ran her hands along his torso, around his back, and across his chest. He could proudly say that he was a lean person. Suddenly Ronnie rolled him over, so now she was sitting on him.
    She continued with soft kisses going down his chest. Lower and lower until she stopped. Something cold touched his skin and he flinched. Looking down, he saw she was holding his knife.
    “Move and I will stab you.” Jacoby ignored her. Swiftly, she placed the blade under his chin.
    “Don’t underestimate me.”
    Damnit, he should have known. He should have known she wasn’t into him.
    “You didn’t have to fake it, you know.”
    She looked embarrassed, “I wasn’t…”
    His heart started to race, “Then…” The knife jabbed him a little.
    “No more talking. I want you out of my house.” Again, that stoic look and those guilty eyes.
    He sat up, “Ronnie, don’t kid yourself.” She got off of him, the blade still to his neck.
    “Don’t. I-I don’t want you near me if you’re still going to kill.”
    “You’re lying,” he smirked at her. She shuddered, not from fear but from the fact that he was right. She didn’t want him to go. Not ever. But this couldn’t go on. Standing up, Jacoby went to grab Ronnie by the waist. She misunderstood the gesture and took a step back.
    “Ronnie,” Jacoby pleaded.
    “No, don’t touch me.”
    He was beginning to get a little irritated.
    “I’m not going until we work things out.”
    “There is nothing to work out. I want you gone.” Ronnie flinched slightly at her own words.
    “That’s a lie and we both know it.”
    She shook her head.
    “Give me the knife Ronnie.”
    She had the knife held out in front of her, prepared to strike if she needed to.
    “No.”
    “I mean it, give it to me now.”
    “Or what?”
    He lunged at her, intending to grab the knife. Out of pure reflex and instinct, Ronnie slashed at Jacoby and accidentally cut his arm. Her eyes grew big and his onyx ones filled with fury.
    “Ronnie,” he hissed and grabbed the knife out of her hand.
    He threw her on the bed and proceeded to slit her throat. Slowly, the life began to fade from her eyes. Only then did Jacoby realize what he had done.
    “No,” he whispered.
    “No, no, no, no, no!” he hissed, grabbing the sheets and placing them on the wound.
    Ronnie placed a hand on his and he gripped it tightly, then it went limp. He knew she was dead. Jacoby’s world came to a crashing halt. The person he loved so dearly was now gone. He never intended for this to happen. Never. Making up his mind, he grabbed a few sheets of paper off her desk and explained everything. the newspaper will love this, he thought. One could say it was his “suicide note”. The whole world would know who the Jack the Ripper copy-cat was. Yes, was. He will cease to be.
    Jacoby clutched the letter tightly as he placed the knife to his neck.
    “Here’s to you, Jack the Ripper.”
    And with that, he took his life.