Beyond The Ripper

Jack

(L's POV)
[8th of June, 1971]

I saw my two successors, Beyond Birthday (B) and Alexander Evermore (A), leave alongside my servant, Sir Quillish Wammy, in a carrage. I closed the curtains after seeing them off, and turned to see, not my study, but the wildness. I turned back around to see the carrage overturned, Quillish, B, and A's bodies mangled and bloody. I fell to my knees crying.

Just then, A's head turned towards me, his eyes and mouth leaking blood, and the fires of Hell themselves arose around me, engulfing me.
***
[8th of June, 1889]

I jumped awake, sweat pouring down my face. I looked around, realizing that I wasn't in Hell, or in the middle of a forest, and that it wasn't 1871. It hadn't been for a very long time.

Over the years, I'd always had that same dream, about A coming back from the dead to condemn me to Hell. It's a strange thing to dream about, even for a nightmare. I mean, we were best friends, so there's really no reason why I would dream of him condemning me. I wonder why it's A and not B. I wasn't the nicest person to B, but he was fanatical about me. He even copied his look after mine. The day they went missing, many a person asked if we were twins.

As I collected my thoughts, the servant I hired after Quillish dissapeared, Sir Roger Ruvie, knocked on the door before opening it. He set a tray on my lap, on the tray was a newspaper, three letters, a kettle, a teacup, six lemon slices, and fried eggs.

"Thank you, Roger," I said, monotone.

"Enjoy your meal, Mr.Lawliet," Roger replied.

I opened the newspaper as I poured my tea, sqeezing a slice of lemon over the cup. The headline was about a new killer known as Jack the Ripper. It appalled me as to how Light Yagami, A.K.A. the London Slayer, could be so easily forgotten, while this third rate killer got more press than the Anglo-Zulu War.

I began to eat as I opened each letter. The first was from Nate River (Near/N) and Mihael Keehl (Mello/M), who had started their own detective agency three years back. The letter was simply an update, telling me of how they had caught some posh killer in the United States. I would have to write them back, of course, but I haden't the foggiest idea of what should be included.

The second letter was from Whitechapel's chief of police, asking me yet again to help with catching Jack. I had burned every letter up to that one, and I would again, after my breakfast.

The third was stranger than the first two. It read as follows:

"To L Lawliet,
I challenge you to a battle of wits. I hide, you seek. I kill, you investigate. If you win, I'll tell you who I am, before I tell you who you are.

Sincerely,
Jack the Ripper"

I was shocked, and angry. Who was this three-kill-lowlife to challenge me? I angrily tossed the envelope onto the tray. I noticed that there were two letters written under my name. It took a while, but I found out that the letters were both "B". It had only one meaning: Beyond Birthday. He had come back from the dead, and wanted to kill me for letting him die.

I had one thought after I realized this:
Well, damn.