With each kill, I grew more excited for the next. My body itched to get to the next man. It ached in anticipation of removing yet another scumbag from the streets of London. I enjoyed it too much to stop now, especially when so many of them were still walking the streets.

Not even a winter storm could deter me from the task at hand.

Very few people walked the streets during the storm, the sleet and wind being enough to convince them to stay inside. Even the officers had stayed home until the storm had passed. No one expected me to strike, but they always underestimated me.

I found my victim quickly, someone who also didn't care about the workers in his care, forcing them to walk to the factory despite the sleet that thundered down. Mr Thomas Barley had been on my watch for a while, one of the many men I had taken an interest in. I had watched his workers struggle through the factory gates in the early hours of the morning, their clothes soaked through, and knew he had to pay.

Even with the rain, Mr Barley visited his own factory that day. He had the luxury of a carriage ride to his premises, an umbrella to shield him from the rain, and a roaring fire inside so that he might dry off. A man who uses his money only for his own gains was not a man who deserved the air he breathed.

The storm meant I didn't have to hide as I usually would have. Fewer people around meant that very few would see me lurking nearby, and I had more freedom than I had in a while. I stood under the lip of a roof, shielding myself from the rain but in the perfect position to watch the factory gates.

I hadn't been following Mr Barley as I would have liked to and did not know his routine as well as I had known some of the others, but I knew enough. Mr Barley would walk up to the bakery nearby after his workday was done. He would buy a loaf and then return to the factory to be collected by his carriage. Mr Barley always took the alleyways, as they were quicker.

Darkness settled earlier than usual.

With the sleet and the growing darkness, no one would have seen me had I made the decision to hide. That day, the weather became my companion, my second in command. I didn't mind that the sleet stung my cheeks or that my clothes were soaked within minutes and clung to my body. None of that mattered.

The end of day bells started to ring and Mr Barley's workers emerged from the shelter of the factory. They rushed through the gates, holding shawls with holes close to their bodies to shield them from the weather. No one lingered for too long as the weather raged around them.

Mr Barley emerged from the factory last. He used an umbrella to protect himself from the sleet and headed through the small alleyways to the bakery he loved so much. I followed behind him, darting across the cobbles and watching my footing. Were I making any noise, the wind would have hidden it.

I was like a shadow moving through the night.

The hammer pressed against my back and I promptly pulled it from my waistband, gripping it tightly to make sure it didn't go flying from my hand when I needed it the most. Mr Barley moved faster in the rain than he usually did, but I was faster.

I crept up behind him.

"Boo," I said, the wind drawing out my voice.

With one swing, I sent the hammer smashing down onto Mr Barley's head, sending him crashing to the ground. Rain thumbed down on him, mixing with the blood flowing from the wound on his head and spreading it down the alleyway. Blood coated the end of the hammer. I wiped the remnants on Mr Barley's shirt, turned, and let him in the alleyway.

Not even the rain could stop what needed to be done.

~~

First Published - February 9th, 2023