The Ripper

The Return - 1

Then shall the slayer return, and come unto his own city, and unto his own house, unto the city whence he fled. - Joshua 20:6

I sighed as the TV show I had been watching flicked to a hurricane warning. They're common in New Orleans. Our hurricane preparations consist of going to the store, buying beer and ice to keep the beer cold when the power goes out. One of our neighbours does have a boat on his roof in case the water rises high enough. But that's Billy Mack, he created his own religion in his garage - he's got a lot more to worry about than personal safety.

My town is build on a swamp - an awful place to build a place where people will live. Every fifty years or so, Benouville floods and everything but the old hotel gets washed away and the morons who built our houses come back to rebuild everything. I love where I come from - many generations of the Barker family were born and raised here. But It's the kind of town that makes you crazy if you don't leave.

My parents are lawyers and, after years of teaching law at a university in Louisiana, decided to take a sabbatical year and, instead, teach law at a university in Bristol, England.

We agreed that I could decide what I wanted to do during that year, so I picked out a boarding school in London.

But a few days before I was due to leave a hurricane struck. Well, it didn't exactly...it kind of hovered around the gulf for a while - teasing us - before turning into a rainstorm. Luckily, the airline found a seat on a flight to New York and one from New York to London. I was due to get to England before my parents, so I flew alone. Which was actually not that bad.

When I arrived in England, I caught sight of an old man in a t-shirt that had 'Armsford' written in the breast.

"Sophie?" He asked, walking up to me as I stared at the luggage I had brought. I was staying in a country notorious for weird weather for nine months, I felt like I had an obligation to bring so much.

"Soph, no one calls me Sophie." I said, staring up at him.

"I'm Mr Green. I'll be taking you to the college" He said, wheezing as he carried my numerous heavy bags to the car. I tried to help, but he told me that he was okay.

I stepped into the car from the left side, feeling proud that I had remembered after not sleeping for twenty four hours.

"You picked a great time to arrive, some nutter's gone and done a 'Jack The Ripper'," he said.

I thought that doing a 'Jack The Ripper' had to be one of those English expressions like the ones I looked up on my flight. I didn't want to get confused when people started talking to me about jammy dodgers and china plates.

Mr Green switched the radio on.

Twenty three year old Whitechapel road radio host Natalia Banks' body was found on Durwood street. Authorities say that she was killed in a way that emulates Jack The Ripper's notorious first murder in 1888.

That cleared up what doing a 'Jack The Ripper' meant.

"Armsford is right in the Ripper territory, we're five minutes away from Whitechapel road. The Jack The Ripper tours go past every day. I suppose we'll get as many as two a day now," He said, pulling into the school grounds. There was a huge building in the middle that, I assumed, was the school. Either side were two smaller buildings marked 'Hawthorn' and 'Oldridge' (I did a lot of research before hand..). Just behind Hawthorn was a church - the refectory where we would eat our breakfast, lunch and tea. There was also the library and a section of grass (the green).

I stepped out of the car and saw a short but muscular woman standing in the doorway of the Hawthorn building.

"Sophie! Hello! Call me Melanie, I'm the head of the Hawthorn dorms,"

"Soph" I said "It's nice to meet you Melanie"

She looked as if she could kill me with her little finger. I turned around and ran back to help Mr Green with my bags before he had a heart attack.

"Bring them up to room twenty seven, Green," Melanie said, pointing at my things.

I stepped through the door and into my new home.