The world teeters on the edge of darkness, where cursed entities born from fear and pain lurk in the shadows. The Sanctuary, an ancient order of Hunters and Dolls, is all that stands between humanity and the void-a malevolent force that twists creat...
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The night was suffocating, thick with fog that hung like a blanket over the darkened streets of Whitechapel. The eerie silence wasn't the result of peace, but rather the result of fear-the kind of fear that had strangled this place for decades. Tonight, the fog didn't just obscure the streets, it obscured the very life that once inhabited them. But anyone with sense knew the truth: Jack the Ripper walked again.
Whitechapel had long been cursed. The Ripper's bloody legacy, once thought to have ended in 1888, had never truly ceased. He had become something far worse than a serial killer, something far more malevolent-a void-cursed entity who preyed on fear and pain. His ghostly form, twisted by years of torment, now wandered the streets, his presence more terrifying than any living predator. The scent of death followed him, a reminder of the countless souls he had claimed, and tonight, he was on the hunt again.
But tonight wasn't just about his hunt. Tonight, two others walked the cursed streets, not as victims but as hunters themselves. And they had come to end Jack's reign of terror once and for all.
Cain moved silently through the alleyways, his steps measured and calm. His eyes, sharp and focused, cut through the fog as if nothing could hide from his gaze. The pale glow of the moonlight caught the edge of his sword, Valkyrie, the ancient blade pulsing faintly at his side. His silver hair glimmered in the light, making him appear ghostly in the mist-an omen of death himself. But Cain wasn't alone.
Beside him, moving with ethereal grace, was Alice. Her figure seemed to float through the fog, her long, raven-black hair blending seamlessly with the shadows. Where Cain was sharp and deliberate, Alice was fluid, every movement deceptive and light, as if the air itself bowed to her will. Her eyes, glowing with a faint light, held an intensity that spoke of both brilliance and madness-an unpredictability that made her one of the most dangerous Dolls in the Sanctuary.
Together, they were S-Rank legends, known across the Sanctuary for their ability to eliminate even the most dangerous cursed entities. But Jack was no ordinary monster. This night would determine their legacy.
"Do you feel him?" Alice's voice was soft, almost a whisper, but it carried through the fog as if it was a part of the night itself.
Cain didn't respond immediately, his eyes scanning the streets. He didn't need to answer. The tension in the air was enough of an answer. Jack was close.
"I can hear his screams," Alice continued, her voice dropping an octave, her lips curling into a faint, unsettling smile. "He's trying to draw us in..."
Cain's grip tightened on the hilt of Valkyrie. The Ripper had done this before-playing with his victims, tormenting them with sounds of past screams, dragging them through their worst memories until they were too broken to resist. But this time was different. This time, Jack wasn't the one doing the hunting.
