My name is Byron Lester, and I am a new author.


Title: The Ripper: Redux
Genre: Historical/Thriller
PP: 132
Word count: 26, 079
Synopsis:

The maverick film Director Kevin Stone travels back to 1888 to film the murders of Jack the Ripper, stroke for stroke, murder for murder. In the worlds first of a new genre of film making, ‘Historical/Reality,’ movies. Where any major event or mystery throughout history can be filmed in real time, and cut into the structure of a feature film, with characters, and events unfolding with raw historical reality.

Kevin Stone’s vision:

“My pitch, in 1888 a psycho with an appetite for death was on the loose. London was the place, East End was the ground, and Jack the Ripper was the man. My pitch is to go back in time and film the man with the knife stroke for stroke…the legend immortalized on 35 mm.”

This is a journey of two men.

The first a ruthless Director obsessed with carving his name into cinematic history by filming Jack the Ripper’s murders as if a living stage play, with Jack its film star.

The second a morally conflicted Producer who must wage a battle between his professional duties and morality within his soul, as he watches Jack the Ripper, a crazed killer, butchering woman, while they film like vultures to feed the Director’s substantial ego.

Mike Parson’s will have to decide. What is more important? His professional advancement or his soul?

He will have to decide. Is history just a living stage play or is it as real as the present.

One man’s vision can be another man’s nightmare.

Sample Chapters:

CHAPTER 1
DINER IN THE DESERT

The four wheel-drive vehicle rumbled along the lone highway in the barren expanse of the desert. The sun was scorching hot, and the rock formations towered out of the ground in the distance.

The thin face of the man was grayish, slightly withered from years of stress, the hair on his head, a light brown, but the gray roots visible underneath, covered by the vanity of hair coloring, the sign of man valiantly trying to retain the striking features of his younger years. His eyes were sharp, as if burning their way forwards, and his body was thin, but muscular. The legendary Film Director, Kevin Stone, about 45, perfectionist, blunt, driven, and ruthless, sat in the driver seat. His eyes were locked onto the dirty and sandblasted makeshift sign that listed a short distance ahead. The sign swayed on the dirt road that led off the main highway. Kevin Stone looked across at the young man with a round, baby face, thick black hair, and thoughtful eyes, driving the four-wheel. He was Film Producer, Mike Parson, about 40, a professional, quietly ambitious, and intellectual man. Mike Parson had a laptop on his lap that was currently running a program with, “Department of Defense,” labeled across the top of the screen. The detailed maps were constantly decrypting and revealing the pre-determined route that their four-wheel drive was to follow. The small blinking red dot that represented their four wheel-drive vehicle on the map moved along the marked out route. It led them towards that small dirt road that led off the highway. The thick black line on the map marking the ‘route’ stopped at the corner, turned and then ran along the dirt road, and right off the side of the map. It was obviously going to be a long drive along this dirt road before they hit their secret destination. Mike Parsons looked at the director.
“Is this the road?” Mike asked as if puzzled by all of this secrecy.
Kevin Stone nodded softly.
“This is the road,” Kevin replied sharply.
The four wheel-drive vehicle swung tightly around the listing road sign. It barreled along the dirt road and kicked up a storm of dust that flew around the vehicle if a mini dust hurricane. The dirt road ran in a straight line towards the horizon. There was nothing but flat, empty, dusty earth for as far as the eye could see.

Mike Parson ran his hands over the laptop. The decoding program began running again. A new detailed map appeared on the screen. It had a large blinking dot that seemed to represent the final destination. The sun seemed to scorch every inch of the vehicle as Kevin Stone looked across at the laptop. Kevin Stone’s thin lips pursed. He gave a half frown as if to say, “Finally, we have almost arrived.” The dust that was thrown up by the tires of their vehicle clouded their vision but they could faintly make out the outline of the building and it appeared to be derelict.
The four wheel-drive vehicle slowed as it drove into the empty parking lot. The paint was peeling upon the diner, its windows were smashed, and there was no one to be seen. The diner had been visibly abandoned for years. Kevin Stone and Mike Parson stepped out of the four-wheel drive. They looked around slowly as if looking for something. Then they walked towards the wrecked, unhinged door of the diner.

Kevin Stone and Mike Parson walked into the diner. There was a large cover of dust upon the tables, chairs, and the large menu board hung on the far wall. They looked over the diner as if looking for a waitress. They looked at each other and sat down at one of tables as if waiting for service.

The four wheel-drive vehicle sat silently in the parking lot. The sun scorched down upon the ground. There was not a sound except for the sound of lightly swirling wind.

Kevin Stone looked at Mike. He nodded as if it was time to go somewhere. They both got up and walked along the counter. They walked past the decades old vending machine filled with packets of molded chips that hung on rusty hooks. Kevin Stone pushed the men’s toilet door open, and they walked inside.

Kevin Stone and Mike Parson walked to the urinals. They opened their flies, and took a long piss. Then they turned and walked to the basins. They washed their hands as if undertaking a precise ritual. Kevin Stone glared into the mirror.
“Do we have to wipe our asses now?!” he questioned sharply.
There was a slight pause. The door of the toilet cubicle directly behind them began to open. Mike Parson looked around to see the wall behind the toilet bowl slowly slide open. The heavily armored soldier appeared in the opening.
“Your identities and security clearances have been verified,” he informed them in a strict military tone.
Kevin Stone’s face was non-stoic as if he expected this to happen. Mike Parson in contrast looked stunned.
“It’s about bloody time, and you better have some water in there. My throat is fucking parched,” snapped Kevin Stone.
Mike Parson looked at the heavily armored guard’s automatic rifle.
“There is plenty of water supplied Sir. General Johnson is awaiting your arrival,” the armored guard informed him.
Mike Parson still looked stunned. Kevin Stone had obviously told him nothing. Kevin Stone gestured forward confidently.
“Lead the way,” he announced.
The heavily armored guard stepped backward into the elevator that was concealed behind the wall. Kevin Stone led Mike Parson around the disgusting looking toilet bowl and into the elevator. The wall slid back into place again behind the toilet bowl concealing any indication of its presence.

The elevator was dropping quickly and seemed to take some time. Mike Parson looked at the wall. There were ten levels upon the board, and they were speeding down the levels quite rapidly. The heavily armored guard stood quietly facing the elevator door. This unnerved Mike Parsons who looked at Kevin Stone.
“Where are we?” Mike asked puzzled.
The heavily armored guard then spoke suddenly.
“Sub level five Sir. General Johnson is awaiting your presence’s shortly on sub level ten.”
Kevin Stone gestured as if to say, “There you go.” The director was clearly enjoyed pulling his subordinate strings as if Mike was his puppet. Kevin Stone was the clearly the Alpha Male.
Mike Parson whispered to Kevin Stone still bemused by where they were and why.
“Kevin Stone, I thought we were scouting the major location for your next mystery project?”
Kevin Stone smiled sharply.
“More a way to get there,” the director replied.
Mike Parson gave a confused expression.
The elevator finally stopped, and the elevator door slid open.
General Karl William Johnson, about 60, forthright, and fit in stature, stood in the tunnel waiting to greet them. The heavily armored guard stepped out the elevator and then respectively moved to the Generals side. General Johnson looked at Kevin Stone as if the two had met before.
“It is a pleasure to have such an esteemed Director in our presence again Mr. Stone,” he welcomed.
Kevin Stone stepped forward and shook the General’s thickset hand.
“Your previous presentation quite impressed me General, particularly the future opportunities it affords me,” Kevin Stone told him.
Then Kevin gestured to Mike.
“Let me introduce my producer for the shoot Mike Parson,” he introduced.
Mike Parson watched the heavily armored soldiers walk along the subterranean corridors. General Johnson saw the producer’s bemused expression. He grabbed Mike’s smaller hand and shook it strongly. It was a tight, soldiers grip.
“Your first time in a missile silo…albeit a modified silo son,” General Johnson said rhetorically.
“Ah, yes General,” said Mike still seeming bemused.
General Johnson looked at Kevin Stone.
“You didn’t tell him,” stated the General.
“It’s like giving away the killer twist to a film…cannot stand the fuckers who do that,” Kevin Stone said in a tone as if a knife slicing the air.
“A test is ready per your request,” the General informed.
“I’m ready to make cinematic history. Let’s get this beast underway,” Kevin Stone exclaimed with barely contained excitement.
General Johnson led Kevin Stone and Mike Parson along the subterranean corridors. The two Kevlar wearing armored guards that carried high-powered rifles flanked them with every step, quite unerringly for Mike Parson’s. The corridors were dull and claustrophobic in nature. Kevin Stone saw that Mike was uneasy at the surroundings. Kevin looked amused by the producer’s reaction. Kevin glanced at the armored guards that were escorting them. He whispered quietly to Mike Parson as they headed toward a large reinforced steel door that lay at the far end of the corridor.
“They can’t allow us to stray off…”
Mike Parson looked at him as they approached the heavily built door.
“I took five years for me to negotiate to hire it…” Kevin told him.
General Johnson stopped at the reinforced doors. The two armored guards that stood either side of the door looked at the General and then moved aside. General Johnson stepped forwards to the ‘finger print pad.’ It scanned his rough hands. Then it flashed with a bright green light. Kevin Stone continued to whisper to Mike Parson.
“I would not have even known it existed, who would, unless a certain, ‘high profile Congressman’ drunk and with the promise of a role in one of my future projects let slip, ‘the juiciest state secret he knew.’
General Johnson looked up into the ‘retinal eye scanner.’ It scanned his deep blue eyes and the green light blinked again brightly.
Kevin Stone added quietly as the General provided voice identification.
“We Directors are always stretching for that new technique…that next ground breaking format to shoot our films…we all have ego and covet to set the new standards by which further films follow and imitate.”
General Johnson said into the ‘voice scanner.’

“General Karl William Johnson.”

The light blinked green. The armored guards subtly flicked the safeties on their rifles as if they would had responded with force had the identification procedure for the General proved ‘negative.’ The door made a large locking sound. They began to slowly open. Kevin Stone whispered.
“To create an entirely new genre of films…a history making groundbreaking method of making films carves your name forever into history…”
He smiled at Mike Parson cryptically. The large reinforced steel door continued to open slowly. Mike Parson eyes were fixed tensely as he awaited to see what lay beyond.
“Both our names…even if it did take a promise not to reveal its existence until the President was ready and I was provided the exclusive first civilian use prior to its worldwide exposure…along with a eighty million dollar fee to secure an eight week hire,” continued Kevin Stone.
The heavy, thick door fully opened and revealed an extremely large, hanger shape, dimly lit chamber. The silhouetted heavily armored guards and civilian dressed scientists moved throughout it. There were numerous equipment stations littered throughout the dimly lit chamber. Mike Parson’s eyes pierced through the light, and he saw the faint outline of the large halo like structure. It was positioned in the middle of the chamber. Kevin Stone looked over the dimly lit chamber with heavily armored guards and scientists. He looked as if he had visited this place before. He slapped Mike Parson hard on the back.
“Even the military has a sense of theater,” Kevin said with a sharp smile.
Mike Parson glanced at him stunned by the vision. The General said as he began to move forwards.
“My men are already en-route to the destination. They will return shortly with the proof you requested. “
Kevin Stone and Mike Parson followed him into the chamber. The armored guards and the scientist’s gave curious looks towards the visitors. Mike Parson was trying to absorb the surroundings.
“If you would follow me to the viewing area for optimal viewing of the platform,” General Johnson informed.
The two armored guards that had been escorting them from the elevator had remained at the foot of the heavily fortified doors as if not permitted to proceed any further. The steel doors began to close and the light emitting from the corridor was slowly cut out. The interior of the chamber was very dim. The armored soldier stood to attention as General Johnson approached the cherry picker like viewing platform. Kevin Stone and Mike Parson stopped at the base of the stairs that led into the cheery picker like platform. General Johnson walked up onto the platform. But Mike Parson eyes were transfixed onto the large silver circular platform with a large halo like frame that hung above it. The silver platform was large enough in size to hold two semi-trailer trucks. General Johnson shared a few quiet words with the Lead Scientist. Then the Lead Scientist nodded and directed his attention back to the semi-circular control panel. General Johnson looked down at Kevin Stone and Mike Parson from the viewing platform. He gestured them to step up onto the viewing platform. Mike Parson eyes did not leave the larger silver platform that was unlike any structure he had ever seen. “You can in his eyes that he thinks this ‘thing’ is what the Director has hired for eight weeks, and his mind is racing as to what the purpose and function of the larger silver pad could possibly be and more importantly, why Kevin Stone would hire it for a film shoot.” The armored guard walked up the stairs of the viewing platform and shut the steel door sealing them inside. General Johnson nodded to the Lead Scientist. The cherry picker like platform flew up into the air, and swung around so it faced the larger silver platform. The halo structure that hung above the larger platform began to crackle as if on fire. The scientist’s level of intensity rose as if in anticipation of some great event. Mike Parson looked around at the flurry of activity at ground level. The armored guards within the hangar like chamber were clearly on high alert. Mike was on edge as the series of red lights flashed along the walls of the chamber. Mike Parson looked across at Kevin Stone. The Director looked excited and his eyes were locked onto the large silver platform. The barely contained excitement rushed through Kevin Stone’s body. Mike Parson looked across at the seemingly empty silver platform. He could hear the sounds emanating from the halo like structure as if it itself was being violently twisted.
“They’re coming,” General Johnson announced firmly.
Mike Parson eyes snapped onto the General at the final words. Mike followed the Generals eyes onto the large silver platform. The entire platform cracked suddenly as if hit by lightning and BOOMED as if releasing tremendous pressure. A swirl of energy RIPPED around the large silver platform as if a mini hurricane of energy. Mike Parson could not make out any movement within the hurricane of energy. The energy began to swirl upwards like a myriad of serpents into the halo like structure hanging over the large platform. Mike Parson felt himself loose his breath at the wondrous sight. Then his entire body tensed as if caught for a moment in time. His mouth was open and it was dry. The energy dissipated abruptly. The figures of two squads of body armored Special Force’s Soldiers stood on the pad. The energy dissipated around them and into the base of the silver platform. They lay tranquilized, on the platform floor, in-between the two squads of special force’s soldiers, their thick brown fur bristled, their tusks limp. They were two large, prehistoric, wooly Mammoths. Mike’s mouth slowly closed as he watched the fur laced bodies of the Mammoths slowly rise and then descends. They were ‘alive.’ The Lead Scientist turned from the control panel and reported.
“The scheduled test was successful General.”
Kevin Stone whispered quietly to himself.
“Fuck me. It really does work.”
General Johnson looked at the Director.
“You have the proof you requested,” he told him as if their deal had been sealed.
Mike Parson blinked as he stared at the wooly mammoths. “He was still trying to process what this all meant. You could see the thoughts racing through his mind. “

“It is a time travel device, but how can it exist.”

General Johnson indicated for the Lead Scientist to begin the recharge of the silver temporal platform. It was time for the primal dinosaurs to return back from where they came. The scientists began working at the assigned gray control panels that lined the chamber. The armored soldiers moved in a semi-circle around the silver platform as a precaution should the Mammoths regain consciousness.
Kevin Stone but looked at the General.
“So what do you think?” General Johnson questioned.
Kevin Stone smiled wryly, and stated.
“We’re going to make a Hell of a film.”

CHAPTER 9
THE DOUBLE EVENT

The moonlight bathed the waters of the Thames. Mike Parson and Emma were standing at the railing as they gazed over the water. Mike’s eyes were growing more conflicted and pained the longer the film shoot progressed.
“The longer the shoot goes, the greater the war becomes between my lust for professional advancement and my own morality,” he said troubled.
Emma could feel the torment growing within Mike’s mind. He breathed deeply as if trying to suck the ‘life’ back into his ‘soul.’ It felt like it was dying, slowly.
“I can feel it seeping into my soul. The empathy for the victims as I watch them die while we film them as simple actors on a stage,” he said.
Emma’s face flashed in emotional pain for Mike, and she hugged him to provide comfort. Mike Parson’s eyes revealed a man being torn apart from the inside.
The troubled morality seemed to hold his eyes captive as he told Emma.
“I am struggling to reconcile the ethical and moral implications of what this is doing to me.”
Emma rested her head on Mike’s shoulder. She couldn’t bear to see him in such pain.
She tried to caution him lightly.
“If you express disapproval of Kevin Stone’s pet project and the methods he is employing to feed his own substantial ego. He could destroy you within the industry…and me along with it because I would stand by you.”

Mike Parson looked into Emma’s eyes. He was attracted to Emma and was moved by her deep concern for him. Mike felt he could share his inner most thoughts.
“With each passing day I see greater similarities in our director and the monster he is filming,” he shared as if bearing his soul.
Mike Parson was grim as he observed.
“Both are stalking there prey through the streets of the East End, devoid of ethics, emotions, or morality, obsessively, and ruthlessly throwing innocents to the wolves for their own personal gratification…one for murder…one for cinematic fame.”
Emma tried to bring perspective to the way Mike was feeling.
“Kevin Stone is not a villain. He will just do whatever he needs to get the film he wants.”
Emma hugged Mike Parson more tightly, as if more than just the night’s cold was chilling them.
“He wants to break new ground…and push film into new territories, and the people around him are raw tools to wield without remorse, ethics, or morals,” said Emma with displeasure for the director’s methods evident in her voice.
Emma was desperately trying to allay the dark thoughts that tormented Mike’s mind.
“He is just a perfectionist determined to blaze defining pieces of art across the screen that will never be forgotten,” she said as she continued to rub her hand against Mike’s.
Emma gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Then she gave him a comforting smile in the hope that somehow she was helping him.
“He’s not a bad guy…he’s just a great director,” she finished.
Mike held her gaze for a moment and then looked out over the dark water of the Thames with eyes that were just as conflicted.

The sunset had fallen across London an hour earlier.

Kevin Stone stood in the warehouse briefing room. The flat screen display flashed with the dual pictures of the fourth victim, Elizabeth Stride, and fifth victim, Catherine Eddowes.
Kevin Stone briefed his film crew that was tucked in heavy twenty-first century jackets. The army had provided them with everything but workable industrial strength heaters and the London night was unmercifully cold.
“This is the most famous night in serial killer history…this is the night more than any other that Jack carved himself into legend.”
Kevin directed his attention to the display screen which had changed to reveal pictures of the two murders, maps of the paths taken by both of the victims through the night, the location of murders, and the details of the deaths, that were listed alongside each victim’s picture.
“Every film has the money shot. The big grabber. This is the money shot of the entire ripper story…they call it the ‘Double Event.”

There seemed to be admiration in the director’s eyes as he said almost to himself.
“In the matter of a mere hour Jack took two victims…the first Elizabeth Stride before taking Catherine Eddowes just forty five minutes later.”
Mike Parson and Emma had concerned looks in their eyes as they witnessed the crew being swept up in the director’s admiration for the style of two woman’s murders.
Kevin’s voice was firm and his eyes sharp.
“It was audacious...and so we must be just as audacious…two scenes…two crews…shot just forty minutes apart with our star on the move through the darkened crammed streets of the East End.”
The crew was being fired up much like a ‘football team’ listening to the coach’s pre-game speech.
“Just as Jack lifted his game in this historic night so too we will have to lift our game…our adrenaline will be pumping as his will be.”
Kevin Stone’s eyes flashed as he felt the surge of adrenaline. The crew was under his considerable sway.
“In many ways we will be in sync with the ripper on this night like no others have before.”
The crew was entranced. Mike Parson and Emma were unsettled. Kevin Stone looked over the crew various faces and breathed.
“This is exciting…”

Then his eyes turned an ice cold, and he added threateningly.
“But if you fuck it up. I will be frightening.”

This night the dim gas lamps cast long shadows, and the ice glow of a deathly full moon gave the night an eerie quality. Mike Parson and Kevin Stone stood in the crowd and watched Catherine Eddowes, 43, an intelligent, scholarly, prostitute with a fierce temper, and visibly heavily drunk, attracting a crowd by doing imitations of a fire engine in the middle of the busy East End Street.

September 29th, 8.00 pm.

The passersby were watching in a mixture of amusement and bemusement. Kevin Stone was watching Catherine Eddowes drunkenly swinging her arms like she was racing towards a fire. Kevin had an expression on his face as if this was one of the funniest things he had ever seen. Kevin Stone glanced back quickly at the rooftop where a camera operator had a camera lens trained down filming Catherine Eddowes. Kevin whispered so that only Mike Parson could hear him.
“A pissed drunk woman imitating a fire engine in the middle of the street. How could we not film that?”
Mike Parson nodded lightly feigning agreement.
Catherine Eddowes made a large ‘fire siren’ sound in her drunken voice.
Kevin remarked.
“Even horror films need moments of levity. The audience will be pissing themselves laughing.”
Mike Parson watched Catherine Eddowes as if he was watching somebody taking the first steps of a night long ‘walk of death.’ Catherine Eddowes eyes glazed over, and she suddenly collapsed in a heap on the ground. Kevin Stone looked on with a curious glance, and he saw no signs of life come from the woman for a few moments. Then she began to snore as if in a deep sleep. Kevin Stone gave a small laugh as if to say, ‘Now that was a dead set pisser.’ The two Police officers in black bobby hats and carrying batons on their belts made there way through the crowd. They stopped before the sleeping and drunken prostitute. They looked her over and the first Police Officer, a tallish man, bent down and put his hand on her arm. He shook her lightly and tried to wake her up.
Kevin Stone and Mike Parson moved away acutely keen to prevent bringing the Police Officers attention to them.
“Madam…Madam!” shouted the tallish Police Officer.
Catherine Eddowes did not stir. But she continued to snore. The tallish Police Officer sighed.
“This is the third one tonight. Flip a coin on who carries her back?” questioned second Police Officer, a pot bellied man.
The tall Police Officer stood back up and nodded in agreement. The pot bellied Police Officer, took a coin out his pants pocket. He tossed it into the air. He questioned as it spun through the air.
“Heads or tails?”
“Tails,” announced tall Police Officer.
The coin landed on the ground. The pot bellied Police Officer picked up the coin and showed it to tallish Police Officer who then frowned.
“Heads,” said pot bellied Police Officer with a smile.
The pot bellied Police Officer gestured to Catherine’s Eddowes snoring frame.
“At your pleasure John,” he said smugly.
The tallish Police Officer knelt down and picked Catherine Eddowes up in his arms. Kevin Stone eyes were intensely focused as they followed the vision of pot bellied Police Officer. He moved the crowd aside with his baton as the taller Police Officer carried Catharine Eddowes along the street.
Kevin Stone watched them disappear into the night. His were focussed, sharp, as if ready for battle, and it would be a thrilling battle.
“Tonight has all ingredients vital to a blockbuster, the magnetic star in full flight, the lavish locations, the frenetic action, and the gut wrenching tension.”
Kevin Stone gave Mike Parson a smile.
“And tonight Catherine is our tension building machine. That’s her function,” Kevin announced.

Kevin Stone and Mike Parson stopped a short distance from Bishopgate Police Station. Kevin Stone looked it over as if loving how quaint the Nineteenth Century Police Station looked. The Police Officers stopped at the front door. The door opened and they carried the drunken Catherine Eddowes inside. Mike Parson looked over the street, police station and facing rooftops, making eye contact with each of his disguised crew. “He is surveying the location to ensure his film crew is ready to film the next scene.”
“It’ll be quiet while she sleeps it off in the cells for the next four hours,” Kevin Stone remarked.
Kevin Stone rubbed his gloved hands together and warmed them up. “There is a sense of rising excitement in the director that is waiting to be released as if a volcano.” Kevin Stone looked at the Bishopgate Police Station front door. Mike’s eyes followed the director’s focussed gaze.
The Director said with a unnerving emotional detachment.
“When the prostitutes face appears in that doorway again. Jack will be at work. The adrenaline will be pumping, and the clock will be ticking down to her death, Jack’s slashing knife, and our camera’s scrambling to capture every shot.”
Mike Parsons listened to his Director quietly. Then the look in Kevin Stone’s eyes became pensive. He whispered in reverence.
“The calm before the storm…”

Police Sergeant, about 45, and brusque in nature, moved along the station corridor, and turned to see the drunken prostitute being carried into the grubby cells. Police Sergeant looked at the taller Police Officer.
“Well!?” he questioned in explanation.
“She was drunk to the tits imitating a fire engine in the middle of the street,” his pot belied partner reported.
“Sirens and all,” chirped the tallish Police Officer as if he wished the Sergeant could have been there to see it.
Police Sergeant grunted.
“Wake her.”
The tallish Police Officer lent down and shook Catherine Eddowes. She sleepily and drunkenly opened her eyes a little. She looked at the Police Sergeant.
“What’s your name wench?” he barked.
She said still very drunk.
“Nothing.”
She promptly fell in a deep sleep again.

The vagrant was sleeping underneath the cell window of Bishopgate Police Station. He heard the light singing loft out from inside and looked up to the barred window of the cell.

Bishopgate Police Station. Alleyway. 12.15am

The vagrant pulled his smelly coat aside, slipped out the small twenty first-century microphone and lifted it up towards the bars to capture Catherine Eddowes light singing. The audio crew member slipped the microphone back into his jacket quickly, and gave a drunken cough as a middle age Nineteenth Century woman walked past him.

Kevin Stone walked along the dark alleyway toward the large sliding door of the warehouse. The vagrant disguised guard looked up from the ground. He saw the Director approach. He lifted his com-link, and talked quietly into it. The large sliding doors opened and Kevin Stone strode through and then the doors quickly slid closed again.

Police Constable William Smith, about 30, took the last puff of his smoke. He dropped it to the ground and squished it under his boot.

Berner Street. 12.35am.

The building behind the Constable had, “INTERNATIONAL WORKERS CLUB,” inscribed across its front. The Police Constable heard the faint sound of a woman filter through the darkness. He looked around to see pale face woman, Elizabeth Stride, 45, tall, and prostitute as she stood on the opposite side of the near pitch black street. She was talking to a tall man with a short beard who carried a parcel approximately 6 inches high and 18 inches in length. The package was wrapped in newspaper. The Police Constable could not make out the man’s face in the dark night. “Unbeknownst to the Constable, it was the same man who killed Annie Chapman in the court yard a few weeks earlier, it was Jack the Ripper.” The Police Constable sniffed and continued his patrol after he had finished his smoke.
“It’s too cold be standing around,” Constable William Smith grumbled.
He stomped his feet to warm himself up and then he disappeared along the dark street.

Kevin Stone walked into the control center within the warehouse. The large flat screen displays were arranged around the walls of the room. Kevin Stone walked past the technicians that worked the high tech audio and visual gear equipment. They were picking up all the visuals and audio from both of the nights film locations. Kevin Stone sat in the chair in the control center. He looked over the displays that revealed both, “Bishopgate Police Station,” and, “Berner Street,” the current location of both future victims. Kevin’s eyes contained an obsessive and ruthless quality. He looked across at the display showing the live feed of Bishopgate Police Station. The vision looked down from the adjoining rooftop. The front door of the Police Station was opening. The Police Sergeant appeared at the door. Catherine Eddowes walked past the Police Sergeant and out into the street. Kevin Stone gestured to the technicians abruptly.
“I want close ups of both Catherine Eddowes and the Police Sergeant…and audio…get me as many last words as possible…the voice of a woman on death row,” he told them.

Catherine Eddowes was near sober again as she turned to look at the Police Sergeant.

Bishopgate Police Station. 1.00am.

“What time is it?” she asked.
“Too late for you to get anything to drink,” he retorted as if reading her mind.
Catherine Eddowes screwed up her face.
“I shall get a fine damn hiding when I get home,” she blurted.
Police Sergeant showed no sympathy.
“And serve you right, you had no right to get so drunk,” he berated her like a child.
Catherine gave him a wink, and said cheekily as she walked away.
“Goodnight old cock.”
Mike Parson watched the frame of Catherine Eddowes as she swaggered away. He walked past the Police Sergeant and began to follow her along the street. The Police Sergeant smelled the cold air, spat on the ground and then slammed the Police Station door shut.

The footage and audio were coursing through the speakers and displays. The amazing and brutal live audio and visual footage were breathtaking. Kevin Stone eyes were fixed onto the displays that revealed the vision of Elizabeth Stride. She was being choked ferociously by Jack the Ripper in the shadow of the pitch-black alleyway. There was an aroused gleam in Kevin Stone’s eyes as if this was a ‘dream come true.’ “You can almost see the image of an Oscar reflecting in his eyes. He can taste it.” Elizabeth Stride was helpless in Jack’s neck crunching gloved hands, and she was visibly taking the last few breaths of her life. “Her Life is coming to a sudden End.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, it is time for Elizabeth Strides final close up,” Kevin Stone announced as if conducting an orchestra that was approaching its crescendo.
The vision on the display screen from the camera with the use of its long lenses looked down on the street from a distance. The camera footage zoomed onto the two figures. Elizabeth’s face was large on the flat screen display as it progressively turned a dull gray, and the last vestige of life evaporated. Kevin Stone watched the prostitute’s contorted mouth as she took her last cold desperate breath, and then her eyes turned dull and lifeless. She fell limp in Jack’s gloved hands. Kevin Stone instructed simply, and quickly.
“Long shot.”
The vision on the display screen zoomed back to a ‘long shot’ that showed the faint figure of Jack the Ripper as he stood in the night. His gloved hands held the limp prostitute above the ground. Kevin Stone sat back and gazed at the image that looked like a ‘classic, atmospheric villain portrait’ caught in time. Kevin Stone was completely smug within himself.
He said as if reveling in how great a visionary and groundbreaking filmmaker he was.
“The classic villain shot…they’ll never imitate this.”
Kevin Stone, the great director, was coursing through his intense eyes.

Louise Diemshultz, about 50, and a salesman of jewelry led his pony and cart along the street into Dutfield Yard.

Dutfield Yard. 1.00am.

Louise Diemshultz felt his pony rear back as he reached the passageway. He looked at his pony that appeared to be afraid of something ahead in the passageway. In the dark; Jack’s hand slid quietly across Elizabeth’s dead heart. He pulled his knife up and looked up to see the old man with the pony and cart at the entrance to the deathly dark passageway. The old man grabbed the pony’s reigns as it began to make fearful noises. Jack was not moving, as he remained crouched over the partly mutilated body. It was clear Jack had been interrupted before he could finish his work. He watched the old man peer into the pitch-blackness of the passageway. Jack assessed whether the old man could see him. The old man’s eyes were looking all over the passageway as if he could not make anything out. Jack was controlling his breathing. The old man released his grip on the pony’s reigns and began to walk forward. Jack quietly stepped up and moved a step back from the dead body to the wall. Jack’s cold eyes that were filled with the vicious lust for death followed the old man as he probed in the darkness with his whip. Jack’s gloved hand tightly clenched the bloodied knife and readied to strike. The old man was completely unaware of Jack’s presence. Then the old man felt his whip hit something solid on the ground. He probed the solid object and realized it was a woman. Louise Diemschultz said ruefully.
“Bloody drunk or asleep. “
Louise looked annoyed that a drunken person blocked his path. In the pitch-blackness he could not see that she was dead. Jack watched as the old man walked back to his pony and gripped the reigns in an annoyed fashion. He pulled the pony around and began walking towards the, “INTERNATIONAL WORKERS CLUB,” building on the opposite side of the street. Jack looked at the partly mutilated body of Elizabeth Stride with an insatiable lust for violence. “He is not satisfied and still lusts for more violence, more cutting, more defiling.” Jack looked across at the old man and pony as he knocked on the door of the building opposite. It was obvious he was about to bring people back any minute. “Jack knows he cannot finish his work with Elizabeth Stride.” He slipped his long bloodied knife into his jacket and slipped out the back of the passageway.

Mike Parson watched Catherine Eddowes as she attempted to chat up a young man in the distance on the East End Street.

East End Street. 1.20am.

Mike said into his com-link that was latched onto the nineteenth-century collar.
“Tell me your watching.”
The voice of Emma came back over his head-link.
“Look up babe.”
Mike Parson looked up into the night sky. He made out the faint outline of the predator drone as it soared high above like a black eagle, hovering and waiting to strike for prey.
“The military tech guys just got it back to me…I’ve got my eye on you…Jack’s across town opening up Elizabeth Stride,” Emma’s voice came over again clearly excited to have her toy back.
Mike Parson breathed a light sigh of relief, as if the presence of Jack the Ripper in close proximity to him was what he feared the most. Mike looked along the street again to Catherine Eddowes as she continued to attempt to chat up the young man.
The young man was visibly not interested and walked away. Catherine Eddowes visibly cursed and then continued her search for a customer through the ice glow of the night. Mike Parson followed the second target for the night, with instructions from Kevin Stone not to loose sight until she met Jack later. He kept his distance as overhead the predator drone tracked Mike from high above.
He felt safer knowing Emma was watching him as much as watching Catherine Eddowes, lest Jack the Ripper decided to turn up earlier.

Mike Parson followed Catherine Eddowes along another East End Street as she moved closer and closer to Mitre Square and the ‘unspeakable brutality’ of the ‘end of her life.’ Mike had a look in his eyes as if he felt he had the capacity to save her at any moment from the slaughter that waited, and that it was even crueler to just watch as she walked towards that death.
Mike switched off his com-link, and whispered to himself, not wanting anyone to hear his tortured state.
“I feel my soul shaking as we throw innocents to the wolves for our own personal gratification.”

Mike Parson watched as Catherine Eddowes wandered under the glow of the single gas lamp in the alleyway that led into Mitre Square. The glow of the lamp glowed off her face. “Mike Parson watches from the shadows with a look of great conflict in his eyes.” “This is the ‘last moment’ where he can save Catherine Eddowes from death.” Mike painfully drove his emotions aside, and forced himself to remain professional. Then he stood still, concealed as Catherine Eddowes walked forwards out from under the glow of the lamp and back into the darkness again, towards Mitre Square. Mike Parson said softly, and as professionally as possible, trying to hide his conflicting emotions from Kevin Stone into his com-link.
“Kevin. The character is entering the final location.”
Then Mike Parson lent back against the wall as if he had just betrayed his ‘soul’ and now felt ‘lost.’

There was complete silence in the warehouse room as all eyes fixed onto the display screens that relayed the live footage of the lone frame of Catherine Eddowes. Kevin Stone watched thrilled as she walked into Mitre Square that was drenched in darkness. In the shadows the faint figure of Jack the Ripper stood silently, menacingly, watching the lamb to the slaughter prostitute walk across the empty square. Kevin Stone’s eyes were entranced. “They are the only two human beings in the square. Predator and prey. A real life film scene is unfolding with tension that cannot be manufactured in any Hollywood thriller.” Kevin Stone barked into his com-link to a camera operator.
“Close up on Jack. Now!”
The crew tensed as Jack the Ripper with a look of animalistic ‘hunger’ in his eyes walked from the shadows of the square.
Kevin Stone barked into his com-link to a second camera operator.
“Wide shot.”
The vision on the display screen pulled back to a long, wide shot of the dark square. Catherine Eddowes walked across the square towards the far exit.
“Extreme close up, Catherine’s face,” barked Kevin Stone again.
The camera footage zoomed up Catherine’s face as she heard the sounds of the footsteps behind her. She turned around and saw the glove hands snap around her neck.
Kevin Stone shouted with an intensity that seemed to equal Jack the Ripper’s.
“The eyes. I want the horror in her eyes!”

The crew watched with awed eyes as the display screens revealed the horrified eyes of Catherine Eddowes. Jack was uncontrolled and violently insatiable. The grip he had on the prostitute’s neck was so powerfully that it was snapping the neck like a twig.

Jack pulled the prostitute into the air, and shook her like a rag doll. Catherine’s Eddowes eyes revealed the most profound helplessness as her body hung above the ground. She was unable to ‘run’ or ‘fight.’ The crushing grip on her neck did not even allow her to breathe let alone scream for help. The life evaporated from her flailing body quickly. Her body fell limp and Jack dropped her body to the ground, ripped out his still bloodied long knife and dove on her body like a starving, ravaging animal.

Kevin Stone’s eyes watched the largest central display screen. Jack drove his knife into her chest and ripped it open like a pig for market. He broke into a frenzy of cutting, slashing, and stabbing to the dead bodies, neck, face, arms, legs, and side torso. Kevin Stone said with unbridled excitement as if they were filming a Lion feasting on an Antelope in wildlife documentary.
“It is the human equivalent of a blood thirsty Vulture feeding on a rotting corpse.”
He was professionally thrilled with the amazing footage he was securing.
“It is sickening and brutal sight in one,” he added.

Mike Parson ran towards the wagon with the sweat dripping off his forehead.

Emma looked around as she heard the wagon door open. She saw the tired sight of Mike enter. Her hands gripped the predator drones joystick. She shared a quick glance with Mike Parson as if she was also sickened at the footage she was watching. Mike’s eyes looked pained, hollow. She looked back upon the display screen that showed the overhead vision from the predator drones nose fixed camera. It captured from high above the footage of Jack the Ripper as he sliced off Catherine’s Eddowes left ear and slipped it into his pocket; a memento. Mike’s eyes fell onto the predator drones display as Jack slipped his knife back into his jacket.

Emma zoomed into close to Jack the Ripper’s face. The crazed eyes gleamed. Jack’s eyes revealed a state of insanity as he drove his gloved hands into Catherine Eddowes bloody insides. Emma and Mike Parson watched as Jack then stepped up, and walked with blood dripping off his gloves. He walked to the squares far wall. Jack wrote with blood soaked gloves on the wall in a frenzy of motion.

“The Juwes are the men who will not be blamed for nothing.”

Mike Parson stood on the street outside the wagon rubbing his cold hands together. The wagon door opened, and Emma walked down the stairs. She immediately wrapped her arms around her body in the cold night.
“What’s up?” she asked.
“I need to ask you a great favor,” replied Mike quietly.
Emma saw Mike’s deeply trouble eyes. She looked at him with a questioning glance. She asked with apprehension.
“What is it babe?”
Mike Parson looked at her deeply. He looked into her eyes pleadingly.

The predator drone soared through the nighttime clouds as if following the path of something in the crammed East End Streets far below.

The interior of the wagon was empty apart from Emma. Her hands were clenching the joystick and her eyes were locked onto the display vision from the predator drone. Its nose camera was fixed onto a figure dressed in a top hat and long cloak moving through the crowd. Emma looked unsure if she should be doing this.

Jack the Ripper walked quickly across the street and into the train station. The train was pulling up at the station platform.

The predator drone hovered in the night sky above the station. Its camera fixed onto the train that sat at the platform. The smoke from its lead engine billowed into the night air.

Mike Parson stood in the street by the wagon with his head bowed as if inwardly steeling himself.

Emma pulled the joystick around and the predator drone vision swung around and followed the train as it pulled away from the platform.

The predator drone soared through the night tracking the lone train as it moved through London far below.

Mike Parson breathed deeply and looked up into the sky with fearful eyes.

Emma watched the camera vision of Jack the Ripper. He walked away from the station and into the empty dark streets. She whispered to herself.
“What am I doing?”

The predator drone flew low just above the housetops as the figure of Jack the Ripper walked along the high fence line of a mansion grounds. He stopped by the late gates, pushed it apart slightly, and slipped through. The predator drone dropped down to just a meter above ground level at the foot of the steel gates. The nose fixed camera zoomed out and captured Jack the Ripper as he walked up the driveway, unlocked the Mansion front door, and disappeared inside.

“It was Jack the Ripper’s residence.”

Emma walked down the wagon steps, and slowly to Mike’s side. She said quietly; clearly conflicted and fearful for Mike Parson and what he planned to do.
“The monster is in the lair.”
“Where?” asked Mike quietly but eagerly.
“It’s a mansion, 13 Chester Road, Cornwell,” Emma said simply.
Emma paused and said with subtle worry for Mike.
“Please don’t do anything silly.”
Mike Parson remained silent for a moment. Then he said lightly.
“I’m just going to watch.”

The glow of the lamp illuminated the sign on the Mansion’s intimidating steel gates.

“Druitt Estate. 13 Chester St, Cornwall.”

Mike’s figure stood silently alone under the shadow cast by the large tree of the mansion grounds. He was watching the windows on the first level of the mansion. Mike’s eyes were intense as they gazed out of the shadow. He pulled the binoculars from his jacket and lifted them to his eyes as if to gaze upon, “Satan” himself. He watched Jack the Ripper with his back to him as the murderer sat at the dining table with his sister, mother, and father enjoying a late evening dinner. He sat as if the most civilized person you had ever seen in the most civilized setting. Mike Parson lowered his binoculars as if he had just gazed upon the most gruesome ‘sight’ imaginable. He mouthed at the indignation of this monster in this civilized setting.
“You monster…”

Cheers,
Byron

Welcome to the site, Byron.

Sorry for the delay in replying to your thread, but your story is very interesting and it took me a bit to read all you'd posted. How would we read the rest or have you finished it?