The Ripper

Prolouge

I was born October 13th, 1866.

It was said to be a very stormy and gloomy night, anyone would have said it may have been my birth who caused the whole phenomenon but it sounds like absolute nonsense.

Although I've always questioned whether I'd be a good guy or a bad guy. Would I be the prince or the evil henchman?

Growing up, my home was completely destroyed. My mother was always with different men, every night she'd bring home a new one. They'd beat her senseless when she didn't do what they said and often times they wanted someone to watch, as a child it was only normal for me to question what was happening and at first I'd cry, begging the men to stop but it didn't do me any good. It didn't make a difference...Mother would yell at me and the men would hit me.

It didn't last long because eventually she felt guilty. I loved my mother, even if she didn't give me the care I needed I did anything for her. If she was happy then so was I, I learned to simply obey her every word and to be by her side no matter what.

Being the innocent kid I was, if you can even call it innocent at this point. I didn't understand what her job was exactly until I was told by a strange man that she was a prostitute, even then I didn't know what to think. I mean what was a prostitute?

One night, it seemed like my mother's patience with me had run out. She didn't want to take care of me anymore...she wanted me to take care of her.

When I was the age of 7...

The remainder of my innocence was taken from me. It was brutal, cruel and vulgar...

After that night, I became the very thing my mother was...A prostitute.

Night after night.

Even during the day, my mother brought in female clients...sometimes they were men. My body was bruised and there were days when I couldn't even get up. It hurt so bad and no matter how much I cried, begged or screamed my mother never came to help me...

I hate her.

Even if she's no longer among the living, the very thought of my mother makes me sick. That woman disgusts me, burning in hell isn't even a fair punishment. Rotting and burning...the thought wasn't good enough for me.

And so...

I did the only thing I could think of.

I killed her.

And even when she was dead...I kept slicing. I kept ripping and it felt so good.

Being a prostitute, no one even questioned her disappearance. She was a nobody, scum of this earth...she couldn't control me anymore and that was the most satisfying feeling. Knowing I was finally free and even better... I got away with it.

I remember as if it were yesterday. I had just turned 17, it was my birthday and for the first time she had given me a cake.

Make a wish. She said.

I blew out the candle then it was lights out for her.

I had everything planned out.

Her biggest mistake was leaving the knife right by my hand.

She begged.

She cried.

She screamed.

Blood spewing all over me, the sound of the stabbing, the gurgling of the blood.

I've never felt so alive...

Why...Son...Why....

Why.

I couldn't help but laugh at her attempt to being so dramatic.

Why? I asked as I looked at her.

Oh mother. Can't you just be happy that my wish came true? You made my life hell and now I've fully expressed myself. If I could, I'd rewind time and do it over and over and over again. I hate you and everything about you, burn in hell you bitch.

With that, I finished the job by slashing her throat.

When I was sure that she was dead, I took her body out back and cut it into pieces. The biggest question was, Do I bury or burn?

I went with burn.

She didn't even deserve any mercy, I wanted her gone. Completely gone.

I piled lots of wood and placed the pieces in the middle.

Ashes to ashes...Dust to dust.

While that burned, I took all the money out. We lived in a piece of shit place but we had more money than anyone could ever imagine. Once I had everything I needed, I decided to burn everything. No evidence and no memories, this would be a commemoration of a new start. A new life.

I took a look at the hell hole I had lived in for 16 years and even if I was all alone now, I couldn't be happier. I walked away with a smirk on my face, momma's boy was all grown up now.

That was 4 years ago and there hasn't been a day in which I don't rejoice in my actions. I'm successful and wealthy, I have to say that killing my mother was the best thing that ever happened to me but...I still have a list to go through.