The Ripper of East End

Part 11: The devil worshipper

Ren had entered his domain in Jacks head again. Since he couldn't do much there, he usually just watched peoples old memories as entertainment. Though unknowingly, Ren had hyperthymesia, allowing him to remember many memories in great detail despite being almost 250 years old.

He recalled his time as a human, starting with his childhood. He was born in 1632 somewhere in the English countryside.

He had 2 loving parents and a happy, simple life on a farm.

Ren probably could've lived a long and happy life, gotten married, had kids, raised animals, and maintained the family farm after his parents passed.

Had he not played with fire...

It was an accident. He had only wanted to satisfy his curiosity, but as they say. "Curiosity killed the cat."

Except this time, curiosity had killed his parents.

Ren was fascinated by fire, and the way it danced and glowed warmed his heart. It brought some deep, unexplainable fascination.

He used the poker to draw a burning coal from the fire. He saw it glow a beautiful luminescent red.

He was fascinated by it. His mother was cooking in the kitchen, and his father was out doing chores.

Ren noticed the floor started to draw heat. He tried to bat the coal away so the spot wouldn't burn, but instead, he managed to spread embers across the whole floor.

His mother soon entered the room to let him know dinner was done, he had panicked and swung around, knocking an oil lamp from the table, the flammable liquid ignited on the floor, enough that he was trapped.

His mother panicked and rushed to find the boys father.

Ren didn't even care about the flame.

It was beautiful.

He walked straight through them.

The boy's entire body had been burned then, but he felt nothing. He walked outside to watch the house engulfed by flames.

He could see all the chaotic beauty from afar as the insides burned away.

He could also see his parents run in and desperately search for something.

They did not find it

Because they were looking for Ren.

They were too panicked to see him right outside the window, watching them. He witnessed them wipe away tears, say a prayer, and have a final embrace before being engulfed by the flames.

Now, at just 8 years old, he was an orphan. He had no home, no family, no food, no money, not to mention his injuries, but it didn't matter to him.

That place had no purpose. It was consumed by a greater beauty.

The magic that was fire.

Ren had wandered a lot since then. He had been beaten, robbed, and almost murdered many times over.

It was by some divine protection he'd survived, or perhaps God's cruelty was shining through.

Later in his travels, Ren encountered a small settlement, a village family had adopted him when he was turning 12, the fact that he lived that long was a miracle all on its own.

Ren had long forgotten what a family was like. He didn't enjoy it. The way people tried to mold him into something he didn't want to be.

They cut his hair, dressed him in stupid looking clothes, and made him go to church services for a god he didn't believe in.