Ripper of East end

It was the autumn of 1888, the day had been normal but as night approached  ‘a full moon’ was out and the evening seemed very strange. My name can be anything, I sell flesh for 6 pence per night. Tonight I have been to an ally, a place of sad reminiscence of a very morbid history . I am new in White chapel district and that night was a strange night. Smell of cheap ales, dim lights, strange faces made me blink and shiver. I belong to the Victorian era and between August and November 1888 we experienced the worst nightmare of our life. I saw the face of a ripper,the killer whose anguish was against woman like us, prostitutes or just women in general.

That night I picked Ginne palace as I knew I would be picked up by someone. As I approached I saw in every window and doorway women were laughing and joking with their protectors. Their shabby attire, gashes on faces, unwashed gown, their desperation were a revolting sight…I was not comfortable, I have a back ground I am educated, this is not my life. I sat upon the bridge to watch the women of the neighbourhood flock past, as they do every night between the hours of eight and nine, on their way to the East end , where they ply their trade all through the night and return home in the morning some of them shattered and battered. I was wearing my black lace dress, I could see men around me, one of them came closer I had to walk away. I haven’t had food for two days, I was weak, I needed the money hence decided to walk back.

I walked Inside the ginne-palace and was dazzled by the light of a thousand gas lamps. Upstairs there is a spacious salon divided down the middle. Towards midnight the regular clients began to arrive..that’s when I met Marie Ann, she was beautiful, with flawless skin. I saw a 25 year old brunette With a pair of blue eyes. She had a happy face and had a French accent. She smiled at me, we both spoke silently. She came closer ” comment allez-vous missy” I smiled back nodding my head. We spoke, I suddenly felt I was being protected, Marie Anne was stronger and was well acquainted with the place. After a while I realised we were a bit odd for the place, we were not in our best attire, no one approached us. We stepped out.

There were few murders in last few month but October past with no further murder and this was early November, everyone breathed a huge sigh of relief deeming everything was back to normal. In the early hour of the night we walked on commercial junction, Marie met a young lad and asked for 6 pence, the lad had no money to offer. Observing that we had to find the money in some other way Marie decided to move ahead while I stayed back. It’s then I saw a man coming from the opposite direction tapping on Marie’s shoulder, she turned and spoke to him taking him by her arm. She turned around winked at me and walked past commercial junction. I waited for a while and was picked up a a young lad, who dropped me back around 3 am. I decided to spend the rest of the night with Marie as by this time she would have been on her own. While entering millers House I saw death approaching me. Behold, I am a pale horse, death sat upon me and hell followed him, he walk past and I shivered. I heard some one whispering into my ears ” Aidez moi silvous plait”

I saw her body lying in the middle, axis inclined towards left side, the head was turned on the left cheek. The face was gashed, nose, cheek eyelid, eye brows partly removed. The skin and tissues of the abdomen from the arch cut opened and fragmented. O Marie Anne I would sing a song for you ” lonely I wander through scenes of my childhood, they bring back to memory the happy days of yore, gone are the old folk, the house stands deserted, no light in the windows, no welcome at the door. Here’s where the children played, games on the heather, here’s where they sailed their wee boats on the bum..lonely the house now and lonely the Moreland..tis time I passed on.

I saw my grave yesterday, yes there I lie with a broken heart, relentlessly crying for last 400 years, why couldn’t I escape death.

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My mother fed my love of paranormal. She was a devout fan of horror movies. I reckon while growing up I was awake up until wee hours to read stories of Edgar Allan Poe’s ‘The black Cat’, Bram Stoker’s ‘ gothic horror novel ‘Dracula’, the sensational series of sexual murders of ‘Jack the ripper’, Stephen King’s ‘Salem lot’, Le Fanu’s ‘Carmilla’. I lived to read this and later watch those rerun. One of the most interesting character that intrigued me is Carmila a character inspired by countess Elizabeth Bathory de’ esced who bathed in the blood of young women. Whether this implicates homosexuality or not remains a question in my mind. But truly enough these characters haunted me. The essence of these characters are far beyond the comprehension of mundane thoughts. I read about the post nuclear holocaust period around 3000 AD. When the humanity was struggling to recover, the vampires appeared. They took control of the chaos, settling themselves as ruler and reigned unopposed for the next thousand years. They created the age of super science, unlocking every secret of the universe that had eluded mankinds effort. They unveiled the mysteries of nature, discovered space travel, manipulation of human mind. Going back to Carmila the constant reference of desire, penetration, lips implicates the actual power. Beyond the Victorian shade women are albeit briefly, permitted sexuality and plays the role of a predator rather than a victim. Now this is interesting, while growing up I had this strong desire of knowing that possessing this extraordinary characteristics which defines Carmila. My mother per say possessed a character much alike, she was mysterious, manipulative, powerful and extraordinarily seductive. she was beyond the boundaries of average. while growing up I realised I developed this relentless crush on her dauntless attitude, she often use to say when I die I shall come back as an undead..my average brain never understood what she meant by it, I was too mesmerised I guess. Today when I look back I exactly know what she meant by it. She dwells in me, she possess me, I am her, she is my innerself, she hides beneath my naivety. I feel powerful in the middle of the night, I feel some strange desire gushing though my body and mind. i guess I am possessed.

I wonder if I am sane, but quoting Carl Jung ‘ Show me a sane man and I will cure him myself’ . Back in my dreams I often dreamt of being dead, watching my body from a distance..have I been astral projecting? I am not religious but can’t exclude the idea of a superior being existing, I feel I have always been intrigued by the 4th dimension, my mystic mind prompts me to believe that this is the space where spirits live. Einstein’s theory of relativity mentions the 4th dimension…time an space, the force that has tremendous impact on nature…a force beyond our grasp beyond any click. I believe this is an unresolved mystery. Dr Emyr Williams a psychology lecturer at Glyndwr University in Wrexham said real vampires are global phenomenon. A psychology lectures in British university claims UK has a population of 15,000 vampires.

As Dr William says that there is a group of individual who believes that there is a group of individual who believes that they have a psychological need to consumer blood. The search to find out more about theses people who live as vampire not because they read or watch a movie and are role players but they genuinely live that life style, is still on.

I believe vampirism is a subculture which exists, just like any unusual subcultures from the past, the hippies, the punk and the goths. There are people who are psychic vampires are more dangerous one who has the ability to play with your mind, but genuine ones I guess usually has a donor. I believe that vampires do not have any issues with religion or any supernatural entity. They are just labelled as the bad guy due to their interest in gothic culture and interest in graveyard.

Dr Williams together with Dr Jane Goodall a research fellow at the university of Warwick, England, wrote a study on Nosferatu. The new image of vampire has glamoured the myth of olden days Vampirism.