The night was foggy, and cold. The wind pulled at The Man's coat. He stood in the shadows, eyes fixed on the light. The woman stood, near the lamppost, the light catching on her blonde hair. He waited, the voice spoke softly, willing him to kill..
Slowly, reluctantly, he stepped into the light. He touched her shoulder,
"Are you lost? I know this area very well."
He turned with her at his side and walked from the light into the fog.
They found the body the next morning, The police had blocked off Whitechapel.
But, The Ripper was standing there...