November 3, 2005; 4:30 P.M. The tape recorder made a click as Irving turned it on.

"How are you feeling today, Erica?"

"I'm fine, Irving. You don't mind me calling you Irving do you," Erica asked wearily, as if all the energy had been sapped out of her by the past couple of days.

"Not at all. I'm glad to hear that you're doing well. How is your child doing?"

"She's being taken care of by the hospital," Erica replied, shortly.

"Ah, it's a girl. tell me; Erica, can you tell me what happened at that house the other night?"

Erica slowly moved her head until her eyes stared directly into his.

"Can't you guess," She asked in a frightened whisper.

"I could. But I'd much rather hear what really happened. As you saw it."

"It's all unbelievable. Even to me, and I've been through it. ...You're not going to believe me."

"How do you know that," Irving asked. "After what you've told me so far, I might indeed believe what you have to say. But we won't know until you tell it."

"...I...," Erica started. "I guess that I could be wrong."

"Please tell me what happened, Erica. I would really like to help you, but I have to know for sure what happened in that house."

"I...I need something to drink, first."

"Of course!," Irving exclaimed, jumping up immediately to fill her coffee cup up with water, using the same one as before. Sitting back down, he leaned forward in his chair and waited for Erica to begin. After taking a couple of drinks of water, she did.

"Okay," Erica began. "My friends and I rode home with my girlfriends older sister, talking about what the kid had said. We couldn't wait to prove him wrong, couldn't wait to prove that he was nothing more than a stupid little nerd that had just moved to town and was trying to make himself look cool by making up stories that nobody had ever heard before. We went out trick-or-treating once, switched costumes and did it again. I had to rest after that because of the baby, so we counted our candy and waited until it was late before we set out.

"We snuck into the house at about Eleven. Inside the house, everything was a mess, as if nobody had been in it for the past century. But somebody had to have been in the house because there were newspaper clippings there that dated back, every thirteen years, to 1888. Nothing in them at all about Jack the Ripper. Just stories about girls who had had incidents with the house and that later disappeared. In most of the stories, the girls were found, chewed up as if by dogs, but no dogs could be found. Every time, though, one of them would escape, tell the story and then disappear a few days later, leaving no trace at all of a killer or suspect. After a while, nobody in town talked about it when it happened, because they couldn't figure anything out. They just pretended that nothing was going on. It was all there, documented by newspapers, but we stayed anyway. We should have gotten out of there when we had the chance, but we were intrigued, and... we didn't think that it could happen to us, don;t you see? We didn't think it could happen to us.

Erica took another drink of her water before continuing; Irving all but in trance as he listened to her.

"About 15 minutes after we saw the newspaper clippings, we heard dogs barking in the distance, getting closer with each bayful howl. When we tried to get out, we found the door locked and then... and then we saw the dogs," Erica said as her voice cracked and tears flowed freely down her face. "Such big dogs, too, mean dogs. They chased us around the house. I lost track of my friends but I heard their screams echoing through the house. I couldn't do anything because one of the dogs was still chasing me. I ran up the stairs to the second floor and I saw a man at the end of the hall. I don't know who it was because I couldn't get a good look, but I knew I didn't want to run towards him. I broke through one of the flimsy doors on the side and jumped out of a window into some thick bushes outside where I just got up and kept running until I reached someone's house and called the police.

"I waited until the police came, afraid to even move out of sight of the nice people, in case the dogs or that man were waiting for me, but then the cops showed up and they brought me here. And that's the end of my story."

Irving sat back in his chair, speechless, and took a drink of coffee, absentmindedly.

"I have to go back to that house and find out why. I don't care if I disappear like those other girls did. Just so long as I know why. Why me, and why those other girls."

"We could go now, if you want," Irving said, softly. "It's daytime now, we can have the police escort you and you might be able to get a better look around the house. Besides, you have me interested now, and like I said before, I do want to help you, Erica."

"Yes. Best to get it out of the way now and never have to worry about it again."

"You've brought meaning to my life again, Erica, though you don't know it."

Standing up, Irving motioned towards the guards outside the door. They came in and he quickly filled them in on what was going on.

"Should we order back-up," one of them asked.

"No, it's broad daylight. Only the two of you should be needed. I doubt the killer is still around, and if he is you guys should be able to see him in time."

Erica stood up and both her and Irving put on their coats as the two cops oversaw everything, and they all walked down together to the cop car. Little was said on the way there. The sky was grey and cloudy, but without rain,as it usually is in the area, but it created an ominous look to the mansion as they all piled out of the car and inside. Erica gave a little gasp of surprise as they entered and she looked around.

"What's the matter?," Irving asked.

"Everything is clean...," Erica said, confused. "Everything is gone."

Irving got a strange glint in his eye as he spoke again.

"You wanted to know why? Is it really that confusing to you, Erica?"

"What?," she asked, thoroughly confused now.

"As you know, the boy at school didn't tell you the whole story. Even the newspaper clippings couldn't do that. Maybe I can explain. Jack hated whores, filthy sluts. His mother had been one, his sister had been one. He killed them both before he killed all those other girls. Finally he married Jessica, yes, after having moved to America, hoping that because she was a virgin and had only had him would somehow be above being a whore, but then she got with child when she shouldn't have, out of sequence of when Jack made love to her. He kept track of those things because he was insane. An impractical fear moved his actions and it proved itself to be right.

His wife cheated on him, so he killed her, too, but even then he couldn't bring himself to kill the child, because he would not kill an innocent being. He raised the child, tried to beat the sin out of it by use of his belt and his dogs, but that failed, and Emily got with child too, at the same age as her mother, no less. Jack confronted her in his home, fought with her until the neighbors came in, as you heard, and called the hounds. Jack killed himself, yes, but not before telling his son what to do.

He said, "Boy, there is an evil in women that must be subdued and beaten into submission and if that can not be done, then she must be killed. Blood more-so than any other. I couldn't get your sister, so I leave that to you. Under no circumstance must you let her have that child, because if you do, and it's a girl, you will have to wait around to see if it messes up in the same way. Because it is our blood, we must see this evil through to the end." Then he killed himself"

Erica stood dumbfounded, but the cops were edging into action. Irving suddenly whipped around, grabbing a hidden gun from his side and popped a bullet into the head of both men before they had a chance to even blink.

"I am Jack's legacy, Erica, his namesake. I am Jack. And you are a whore, but not just any whore, our whore. You need not know his last name or anything else. I granted your last wish to at least know why this all happened. Does it comfort you any more than you would have been if you hadn't known? My only regret is that I wasn't able to get you with my dogs before you had your child. Seems to be one of the many other re-occuring themes to this on-going story of our family. My son will do my work after I'm gone, in fact, he's already helped me by telling you and your friends that story. Don't be afraid, Erica, this has to be done to get rid of the evil in you," Irving, or Jack, as he was revealed to be, laughed a little bit too hysterically for his own liking.

Erica worked her never up and took her chance. She kicked him directly in the balls and grabbed his gun out of his hands.

"You little bitch!," Jack groaned as he grabbed his crotch in misery. "I'll get you for that!"

"No you won't!," Erica exclaimed, pointing the gun at his head.

"You can't shoot me, you don't have it in you!," Jack said vehemently, "Just put the gun down and I'll make this as painless as possible."

He reached for the gun, but his hand never reached it. Erica pulled the trigger back and the bullet fired through the chamber, through his hand, and through the left side of his face, directly into his brain. Backing slowly away, she dropped the gun with a frightened whimper. She turned to run and ran directly into the boy from school, Jack's son. He had a smile on his face and a knife held in his hand, which had plunged directly into Erica's chest as she ran into him. Looking down at the blood pumping from her chest, the last look on her face as she looked back up was that of surprise. A couple of days later, her baby was put up for adoption, the house was cleaned up and closed up again. No killer was ever found for the murders, and so everybody just didn't talk about it. The boy wasn't seen again in that town, at least not yet.