Ripper
Her fingers shook as she twisted the key in the lock. It was dark out already, although it was only seven thirty. Wrapping her shawl more tightly around her shoulders, Alice began to walk. Nobody could describe her as a delicate, excitable debutante, like the women for whom she worked not prone to fainting or having the vapors but even still, Alice felt a distinct sense of unease. In broad daylight, at the best of times, people would go on about the dangers lying within the streets of London, but here in Whitechapel, at night, and with all that dreadful talk of Jack the Ripper and the Thames Embankment Murders as well...
No. Alice bit her lip. Frightening herself would do her no good. She tried to clear her head, to focus on her breathing, on her footsteps, quieted by the snow. She had walked home through Whitechapel one hundred, two hundred times. And yet, tonight …show more content…
A man was emerging from the darkened alley. He wore a dark, heavy woolen greatcoat, and a stovepipe hat, the unusually wide brim of which kept his face in shadow.
Alice turned and started to walk, heart pounding.
“A word, miss!” the man called. Alice ducked her head and kept walking. The boarding house wasn’t too far away. But would her landlady notice if she didn’t return? Mrs. Howell was known by the tenants to be somewhat hard of hearing and quite absent minded. If Alice disappeared, it could be weeks before anybody came to look for her and then, only because she’d have fallen behind on her rent.
The stranger’s footsteps quickened. “Miss!” he called. Alice glanced over her shoulder and saw something shining, something metal in his hand. Pressing her fingers to her mouth, trying not to scream, she hurried on. Only two streets left…
She felt the man’s hand close around her arm, stopping her with such force that she was all but yanked off her feet.
“Please, sir! I don’t want any trouble!” she
Her fingers shook as she twisted the key in the lock. It was dark out already, although it was only seven thirty. Wrapping her shawl more tightly around her shoulders, Alice began to walk. Nobody could describe her as a delicate, excitable debutante, like the women for whom she worked not prone to fainting or having the vapors but even still, Alice felt a distinct sense of unease. In broad daylight, at the best of times, people would go on about the dangers lying within the streets of London, but here in Whitechapel, at night, and with all that dreadful talk of Jack the Ripper and the Thames Embankment Murders as well...
No. Alice bit her lip. Frightening herself would do her no good. She tried to clear her head, to focus on her breathing, on her footsteps, quieted by the snow. She had walked home through Whitechapel one hundred, two hundred times. And yet, tonight …show more content…
A man was emerging from the darkened alley. He wore a dark, heavy woolen greatcoat, and a stovepipe hat, the unusually wide brim of which kept his face in shadow.
Alice turned and started to walk, heart pounding.
“A word, miss!” the man called. Alice ducked her head and kept walking. The boarding house wasn’t too far away. But would her landlady notice if she didn’t return? Mrs. Howell was known by the tenants to be somewhat hard of hearing and quite absent minded. If Alice disappeared, it could be weeks before anybody came to look for her and then, only because she’d have fallen behind on her rent.
The stranger’s footsteps quickened. “Miss!” he called. Alice glanced over her shoulder and saw something shining, something metal in his hand. Pressing her fingers to her mouth, trying not to scream, she hurried on. Only two streets left…
She felt the man’s hand close around her arm, stopping her with such force that she was all but yanked off her feet.
“Please, sir! I don’t want any trouble!” she