The Rippers

My entry for the Music, Movies, Movellas competition. Based on Victorian Vigilante - Abney Park. Everyone has Heard of Jack the Ripper - correct? But not everyone knows that he didn't exist. His legacy, however, is very real. A group of street children that call themselves "The Rippers" commit these terrible deeds, each disguised as the notorious criminal.But when their boss is murdered, the finger is pointed at a number of Rippers. Including Natalie Redstone, a loyal Ripper for three years. Can she clear her name and leave her wretched life behind?


4. The Dream

My heart beats constantly faster as I rush through the house, trying to find the source of those sickening screams. Endless mazes of corridors and secret passageways mess with my mind, swirls of bright wallpaper creating a multicoloured haze. When I reach the dark oak door I am hunting for, I place my hand on the brass doorknob, twisting it as a chill is sent up my spine. I dash through, then come to an abrupt stop as my emerald gaze rests on this scene before me.

My parents.My mother lying partly off her bed, my father lying on the floor, a cruel trail of scarlet blood emitting from his lips, and a slit across his throat. Both are pale and still, eyes glazed over, mouth hanging open. Even for a twelve year old it is plain to see that they are deceased.

There is also a man I don't recognize in the room. He is old, with sparse grey hair on his frail wrinkled head. His brown eyes glimmer mischievously, twinkling with relish.  A glinting silver instrument is gripped tightly in his palm, crimson blood dripping off the gleaming edge. He is grinning in pleasure.

Grinning at me.

Before my mind has time to register a thing, he has this helpless child in a headlock, the knife pressed firmly against my throat. I'm weak and innocent, too wrapped up in cotton wool to know the appropriate reaction to a situation such as this one. My heart is racing as I look around my parent's room one last time, at the duck egg blue walls, old bed I spent many a happy night in with Mother and Father, and at anything else in this room baring any significance to me at all.

The knife digs further into my pale skin, blistering my neck, cutting off my breath. As I struggle to breathe, my mind whirs with the events over the last few minutes. He's going to kill me...

Seconds later, I'm lying in my bed, sweat dripping off my forehead. Archie, Darren and Laura all staring at me. "You okay Nat?" Archie inquires.

"Yeah," Darren pursues. "You were shouting something about sparing your life."

Laura is looking sheepish, her curly honey blonde locks masking her shy face. "Did you have the dream again?" she mumbles timidly.

"What?" I ask loudly, not caring that every other Ripper (and most of the neighborhood), have probably heard me. "No! I'm fine! honestly."

"What dream?" Darren asked, interested now. He looks hopeful. "Is it about me?"

"No." I insist, as Laura and Archie make kissing noises. "It's not about anything. I told you, I'm fine." Darren turns to Laura, expecting the story from her. She understood.

"Natalie's been having this dream about her parents' murder since Jackson killed them five years ago." she answers simply.

Great. Darren and Archie gasp, and Laura is looking perfectly dumb as innocent as always.

Is this how I shall be remembered?


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