Cheater Cheater time to die

‘Do you remember the stories that you get told around the camp fire? The haunting ghost stories? Those ones about the hitchhiker and the children that got killed in the forest you happen to be camping in. You would scream and run to mum, clinging tightly to her shirt, your face hiding in the crease of her neck. You laugh as you get older; you think you know all the stories now, scaring the poor females to hop into bed with you. You watch their every move before you get them to get ‘dirty’ with you. One day your wife might be walking through the door, after a hard day at work and hears the screaming from your room. Maybe your youngest son has walked in on you and this mystery woman. You watch their every move before you make yours. You don’t stop and think about who’s watching you.

The thing you don’t know is that I’m watching. I know the one story they forgot to tell you. Jack the ripper, the Whitechapel murderer and just for you I’m going to play out this story. I’ll be the ripper while you are the victim. This is my game well I made it just for you’