It was a dreary night in London, England, and the rain was falling heavily upon the dim city. Few people walked down the street, cars passed every now and then with their sun like headlights.
A woman, at the age of twenty, over her shoulder, noticing the meager man-a bit of a ways behind-had been following her for sometime. Even if she walked faster, or turned a corner, he was still closely following.
His boots were heavy and hit the ground with such force that it was like a ton of bricks. His trench coat was like a dark vale hiding his body from passing eyes, and the hat that covered his face did the same. But his white smile was still noticeable by anyone, his intentions weren't well.
The woman faced forward again, her hands beginning to shake. She quickened her pace and hurriedly turned the next corner. She stopped and looked back, only to find the man gone from her sight.
The woman's dismay vanished within the sigh she released. But it soon rose again when she turned around. The man's smile and eyes gave her the feeling of a wild man.
She only found herself able to scream as the silver blade pierced her chest.
The lifeless body laid there on the ground as people began gathering, shouting for help. Blood running down the cracks as the rain washed it away. The umbrella had rolled out onto the street, causing cars to screech to a halt.
A police officer called for back up, but the message in blood was getting washed away with every drop falling from the sky.
"Jack the Ripper has returned."