Flash Fiction | Drama | Story | Illumination

The Reporter

Lawrence Moody is the Senior Reporter of the Evening Star

Whitechapel, London,1888

Lawrence Moody, a long-serving reporter for the Evening Star, returned to his lodging, brewed himself some tea, and sat by the fireside looking to read his report on another brutal murder by a serial killer. Heath had written the headline feature.

THE TIMES, London, November 9th, 1888

The city is again stirred to its very center, and again, a mysterious murder is the cause. Another in the dreaded Whitechapel series, though it differs from the others in some particulars. In the first place, this latest addition to the list of horrors occurred indoors. A house in Dorset Street, near Hamburg Street, was the scene of the murder.

Again, a woman was the victim. As in the other cases, her body was shockingly mutilated. It was found not many hours after the violence had been perpetrated. News of the discovery spread rapidly, arousing yet more morbid curiosity.

The Lord Mayor’s Parade called for more significant numbers of the police force for special duties controlling the crowds. Hence, the rigid patrol in the Whitechapel district was somewhat relaxed. This gave the murderer his opportunity, which he could not quickly seize. He is more vigilant than the police and has the advantage that he can study their movements without being subject to espionage.

The victim, Mary Jane Kelly, is the fifth woman murdered by the alias ‘Jack the Ripper’. Her head had been severed and placed beneath one of the arms, nose, and ears cut off. Her body had been disemboweled and flesh torn from her thighs. The womb and other organs are missing. Skin torn off the forehead and cheeks. One hand pushed into the gaping stomach. The victim, like all the others, was a lewd woman. She was married, and her husband was a porter. They had lived together at spasmodic intervals.

Several other murders in the area are yet to be investigated.

Lawrence Moody, Senior Reporter.

Closing the paper, Lawrence sighed and thought about what would happen to his career should these murders cease. He picked up his notebook and began a letter:

Dear Boss…

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