Alexandra stood silently in the darkness, the smog made it easy for her to conceal herself as she stood in the shadows. The man she had been following for the last 20 minutes had stopped his walk to approach a woman who was leaning against a lamp post. The dim orange light illuminated her raggedy dress, the ends of her hair hung a mess around her face, the rest was covered by her bonnet. She smiled, and leaned forward towards the man. Every movement made it clear she was nothing more than a tart.

Alexandra took a deep breath, ‘It’s bound to be him, this time.’ She thought as she watched the two of them. After a brief moment, the woman followed the man towards a yard, giggling and attempting to talk to him, but he remained silent as they walked. Quietly Alexandra followed. As she turned into the dark yard she quickly ducked down behind a few large wooden crate. She could hear the tart giggle drunkenly. It was harder to see, but not dark enough to conceal them completely. She watched as the man looked around, hoping desperately he did not see her hiding and watching them.

“Now don’t ya worry deary, their ain’t a sole out there.” The whore said cooingly to him.

He grunted, and seemed to shrug off his concern, turning back to the woman he was with. He leaned closer to her, whispering something into her ear. She erupted with laugher. “Ain’t so shy after all, are ya?!”

He wasn’t amused by her laughter, “Hurry it up.”

Alexandra watched, as the man leaned forward, swiftly his hand shot from his coat pocket towards her. There was no time for the woman to scream, yet Alexandra swore she could hear a soft “No!” escaping her lips as her body hit the wood fence, crumpling to the ground. His knife shone in the dark, blood dripping from its tip. Alexandra held her breath. Everything had happened so quickly, it was hard to believe that in seconds he had killed that whore. She continued to watch him as he bent down over the now dead body. He flipped it over onto it’s back and plunged his knife into its abdomen. Even in the darkness Alexandra could see the blood pooling under it. Terrified and yet mesmerised she couldn’t pull her glance away from him as he cut deeper into the lifeless body, ripping out it’s intestines and tossing them carelessly towards the shoulders.

Alexandra could feel her stomach turn as she watched him mutilate the dead whore. ‘I do not think I can go through with this…’ She thought as she wanted to run, but her body felt paralysed in its place. She began to try and reason with herself. ‘I followed him, hoping it was him, now I have found him.’ She felt consumed with fear and disgust, yet also fascination. ‘She died quickly. Didn’t feel a thing I reckon… Nor will I.’ She continued to reassure herself.

As she debated with herself and urged herself to make up her mind she could hear footsteps approaching from the street. Looking towards the man, the Fiend of Whitechapel, she saw he was so absorbed in his “work” that he hadn’t heard the approaching steps. She felt her heart pounding in her chest. ‘He’s going to be seen!’ She was at a loss, but the footsteps came closer and closer. Panic swept over her, she sprang from her hiding place and ran towards him.

Startled he jumped to his feet, knife ready pointing at Alexandra. To his surprise, she grabbed his forearm and tugged on it. “Run!” She urged him in a whisper. The two of them fled the yard and she lead him to a dark alley. Finally they were out of possible sight, she stopped to catch her breath. Suddenly she felt his hand, wet with blood grab her exposed shoulder and push her against the cold brick wall.

“What is the meaning of this!” He demanded in a snarling voice.

Unable to answer, she was shaking slightly, fear and panic rushing through every ounce of her. She closed her eyes tight, expecting the worst, bracing herself for the knife. To her surprise, instead of feeling a knife rip into her throat, she heard a loud, ear-piercing scream tear through the air. Her eyes shot open. The two of them stared at each other in the dark.

“James! We need to get the police!” A mans voice rang out through the dark.

“You knew someone was coming?” He asked, a genuine sound of surprise and confusion in his voice. Silently she nodded, hoping this would be the end. She watched from the corner of her eye as his hand that had been clutching the knife lowered. He pulled his other hand away from her shoulder as he took a step back from her and glanced around the yard. They could hear the shouting in the streets, panic was sweeping over the area.

‘This may be your only chance,’ she told herself. Taking a deep breath she grabbed his wrist. “Do it quickly and run!” She told him in a whisper.

The man was confused by her words, but had no time to think on it. The peeler’s whistles blew loudly in the streets. Taking her by the hand it was now him pulling her along and urging her to run. Quickly they made their way, weaving in and out of small alleyways they came out to a small hill, at the bottom of which was the River Thames.

Letting go of her hand, he carefully made his way to the water’s edge. He bent down and began to wash the blood from his hands, glancing back towards the Alexandra, he motioned for her to do the same. Cautiously she moved towards him and the water, bending down she reached in, the cold gentle waves felt like a relief to her. She washed the blood from her hands, and slowly using her wet hands wiped the rest from her shoulder. Finally clean, she backed up a bit and kneeled on the ground, drying her hands on the skirts of her dress. Afraid to stand, she glanced back at the man, at the Fiend of Whitechapel. He was kneeled near the water, watching her curiously.

“Why did you warm me?” He asked, his voice stern, yet softer than before.

Alexandra however remained silent. Unsure of what to say to him she kept her eyes focused on the water. Slowly he stood and moved closer, reaching carefully toward her, he placed his hand, still cold from the water, on her shoulder and kneeled down beside her. She glanced up at him, the dim light from the street was enough to illuminate his face. She could see a short beard covering his chin, jaw line and above his upper lip. Strands of dark hair hung loosely from under his hat, while the rest seemed to be pulled back. His blue-grey eyes, which were earlier shadowed over by his hat were now fixated on her.

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She didn’t know how to answer him. The man, the murderer she had so desperately tried to find was now beside her. Many times she tried to imagine what he looked like, who he was, and always it was someone frightening. Yet now, looking at him, she could see he was just a man.

Finally finding the courage to speak her lips parted, “Why didn’t you kill me?”

He took his hand from her shoulder and smiled. “You saved me from being seen.”

Slightly embarrassed by his reply, she looked towards her feet.

“Now tell me, why you would want to end up like those worthless whores?”

“Perhaps-” She paused, once again feeling afraid to speak. “Perhaps it is the only solution I can find.” She answered quietly, still avoiding eye contact with those piercing eyes of his.

“A solution to what?”

“A life I no longer wishes to be a part of…”

“Well in that case, I apologise love, but I cannot oblige.”

She could feel her face turning red with embarrassment and irritation at his remark. “What good is a murder if he won’t kill?” The words escaped her lips before she could stop them.

In a split second he lunged from his kneeling position towards her. Startled she fell back, leaning on her elbows, to hold herself up. Before she could move he was leaning over her, one hand on the ground beside her shoulder, the other holding a knife inches from her throat. A fiendish smile crossed his face. “So this is what you would prefer?”

Terrified, she could feel her heart beating fast, trying to break through her rib cage from fear. He leaned even closer. “Why?” He asked her curiously.

“A man.” She answered quietly, trying to slow her breathing. Still unable to look away from him.

Lowering the hand with the knife to the ground, he pulled himself back slightly and let his body fall onto the ground beside her.

She let her elbows slip, as she laid on her back and turned her head to look towards him. “You are the Fiend of Whitechapel. This whole town fears you, and yet here you are, just as human as I am.”

“You’re mistaken, love. After the things I’ve done, not a soul in this world would consider me human.”

“Don’t I count?” She asked.

Turning to lay on his side and face her, he smiled. “Not if you plan on leaving it.”

She couldn’t help but smile. She wanted to respond, yet felt herself lost and unable to form words. Slowly she closed her eyes, and within seconds sleep consumed her.

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Jack watched her, her chest rising and falling with every breath as she slept. The thought didn’t fail to cross his mind. How easy it would be, and out here where no one would notice or find her. Not until daylight at least. Yet he couldn’t find it in himself to do it. ‘What good is a murderer if he won’t kill?’ Her words rang out in his thoughts as he watched her sleep. Jack felt a surge of emotion sweep through him, he cringed and yet gave in to them with a soft sigh. Taking his coat off his shoulders, he laid it over her, smiling as he did so.

“If only I could find it in me to kill you,” he whispered softly. “You would be quite a treat.”

Feeling ashamed of his words he jumped to his feet, dawn was upon them, he could tell she would wake soon. Quietly he slipped away, deciding to watch her from a distance, as she earlier did to him.

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Waking Alexandra looked around. She was on the ground by Thames, a mans coat covering her. ‘What happened to me?’ She thought as memories of hours earlier slowly poured into her mind. Thinking about what happened seemed unreal to her, and yet, here she was with his coat on her sitting by the water where she last recalled seeing him.

Shaking her head she scorned herself, realising that the sun was now up and she was not home. Wrapping his coat around her shoulders she headed through the now crowded streets. Unknown to her that the Fiend of Whitechapel was only a few steps behind, following her every move.

She walked briskly, clutching the coat around her, as the chilly September air nipped at her face as she walked through the waves of people, going about their usual morning routines. Her mind still focused on the earlier hours of the morning. She remembered him leaning over her, knife inches from her, and yet she remembered his smile. Her tired mind tried over and over to piece things together.

“Alex!” A panicked voice called out from somewhere behind her, snapping her back to reality.

Stopping to look around she saw a young blond woman with a beautiful bonnet bouncing on her head, running towards her. “Hello Katherine.” She said with a weak smile.

Katherine grabbed Alexandra and wrapped her in a tight squeeze. “I was so worried about you! Andre said you didn’t come home last night! Then, oh goodness Alex, then so early this morning there was another murder! I was so afraid, knowing you were out there somewhere.”

“Relax Kitty,” Alexandra said softly. “I’m here, I’m plenty alive, for now.”

Smiling at her friend, Katherine gave her another big hug. “Who’s coat are you wearing my dear? Not Andre’s by the looks of it? Seems a tad bit long for him.”

Alexandra blushed a little, realising how odd she must look with this dark long coat hanging over her shoulders. “It was a cold night, I stubbornly thought it’d be better to stay at the pub than go home to Andre. I knew what awaited me, should I have returned.” She paused, looking at Katherine’s worried eyes. “Some gent offered me his coat when he realised I didn’t have one with me, that’s all.”

“Oh Alex, lets go have a spot of breakfast, surely some food and tea will warm you right up.”

Nodding Alexandra agreed.

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