It is a rainy day. The streets of this dirty place are full of people. Many came over from other cities or even from across the sea. Looking for a better future, a better perspective.

London grows and with it the dirt in the streets. Everything in this city is stained and filthy. Especially Whitechapel. The part of the city which I call home.

Beggars, prostitutes, homeless, sick, migrants. The whole arrangement of shit lives here.

And of course the people who can’t afford a better place to call home.

I am a working man, like any other. But…. I made a mistake. A big mistake. I killed, no, I dismantled a prostitute. Even though I’ve known her for a while. She didn’t want to come with me, didn’t do what I wanted her to do. Her alcohol drenched breath in my face. We started to fight and then…. The knife was in my hand, blood ran down it’s blade, her body robbed from life. Everything happened so fast. I ran away as soon as I started to realize what had transpired. As soon as I realized that I mutilated the poor woman.

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Now that I reached my home I have to somehow wash away the blood. By now the guards on patrol this morning must’ve found the lifeless body. It is a mystery to me how nobody heard us. I know there were people nearby and a police patrol would come by soon.

The horrible things that happened last night infused my brain with nightmares. As if someone or something told me that I did good work. Congratulating me for what I’ve done. I felt… satisfied. Satisfaction is what I feel after slaughtering a woman I’ve known for years?

The adrenaline. The rush. The screams. The blood…. The power.

Now that the shock is gone I want more. I am hungry. Hungry for power and…. blood.