Hello, my name is Jack and I come from London; today I am going to tell you my story before leaving this world. I vaguely remember these passages of my life, born in a very humble small town... let's begin.
Being the year 1875, at this time I was already 15 years old and my life was not very good to say the least, but let's go by parts. I spent all my childhood wandering the streets, since my parents were, how to say, human trash. My father was a thief and almost never came to my house, and when he did, it was only to steal money from my mother, who was a prostitute, and he beat her. I hated my father like you have no idea.
Eventually, when I grew up, when I was only 12 years old, I committed my first big crime. Tired of the mistreatment from the bastard who called himself my father, I set a death trap for him. When he was coming down the stairs from the second floor, I put a small rope on the first staircase; he was so drunk that he didn't even notice and he tripped over the rope and fell down the stairs, breaking his neck and, just in case, I put a couple of stakes at the bottom. Then I threw him in an alley in my city; at that time the police were not very smart, they never knew who killed him, hahaha. I remember his face; the one he had when he died was very, how to say it, so satisfying for me. It was my first murder and I considered it beautiful. now at the beginning; already when I turned 15, I left home. I was disgusted; my mother never took very good care of me and always mistreated me by asking me to steal something to eat for her.
By the time I realized that I could be on my own, I wanted to kill again, but I didn't want to commit crimes just for the sake of it; I wanted to do something good, even if it was for the community. Disastrous people like my parents didn't deserve to live and that's what I wanted to do, but deep down I was trying to be a good person. At the age of 18, I survived by stealing and swindling, but as I told you, I wanted to change my life and I gave myself a chance. I got a job as an assistant in a shoe store; for the time being I did very well in that.
When I turned 20, I met a very pretty girl; for some reason I was immediately attracted to her, I didn't know why. Maybe her resemblance to my mother caught my attention, but I doubt it very much. I want to clarify that I didn't hate my mother completely, I just couldn't stand her conformism of the life she led. With this woman I spent beautiful moments that made me see the beauty of life and then, with time, my life got better and better. I got another job as an apothecary's assistant. I was able to learn about different types of drugs and chemicals. It was interesting; I didn't know my mind could retain so much information. With this new job, my life improved like you had no idea. I went from being an outcast to someone with status, but nothing lasts forever, right?
One day at night, by this time I was already 24 years old and me and my partner were leaving a meeting with some friends I made throughout these short years. We were on our way home and, to cut our way through, we went down a rather dingy alley, the stupidest decision of my entire life, because out of nowhere 3 people came out of nowhere, very unpleasant to look at, I would say, and took our belongings and, not content with that, they beat me to within an inch of my life, but my beloved was not so lucky; the damn bastards, they ended her life. When they left the scene, I managed to crawl to her body and just hugged her and cried; that day, even the sky accompanied me in my pain: it rained as if it would never stop and also something inside me broke as I embraced the cold body of my beloved.
The days passed, I buried my beloved and, as I told you beforehand, the police were a zero to the left; they did nothing to solve the atrocious crime that had happened to me. For weeks I was haunted by memories of my loved one and I was melancholic for days trying to forget this event, but the pain would not go away. It was of no use that I had been rehabilitated in this filthy society; at that moment I felt that I wanted to end it all and decided to take matters into my own hands. This filthy society would not look out for someone like me.
Because of the intense hatred I felt towards the society, I gathered my savings, quit my job and dedicated myself completely to hunt down those damn murderers, sacrificing my humanity in the process. It took me a long time to find them; I had to silence several people of the bad life to find their whereabouts. I managed to find them in a bar, celebrating another cowardly robbery they had pulled off. I pretended to be the one who served the drinks, managing to put a sleeping pill of which I had a lot of knowledge thanks to my work in the pharmacy.
When night came, I took them away, making the owner of the bar believe that they were my friends and that they were very drunk. Quickly, with a large cart I took them to a stable far away from this small town and tied them to a stable post and put a handkerchief between their lips tightly so that they could not speak, but allowing me to hear their screams; everything was already planned.
Some time later, they woke up with a surprised expression; they didn't know who had left them there. I felt the same satisfaction I had when I killed my father; something in me was still breaking. I put on a black suit, a dark scarf and a top hat. I was all in black; they didn't recognize me. Next to me there was a table with different cutting tools such as knives of different sizes, a saw and several gallons of flammable products. The guys were very scared and with their little speech they were trying to get information out of me.
I just approached them and started to do my job. Slowly I started to cut them; between screams and blood I started to feel very good. One by one I dismembered their parts and let the others see how one of them slowly died. I dismembered them and disemboweled them; I felt like I was dancing at a party with blood flying through the air. When I finished, I was all bloody; my black suit had turned red and I was standing, watching my brutal crime. I smiled and, at the same time, tears were streaming down my cheeks; something in me was already broken. I just burst out laughing like a madman. To finish, I gathered the dismembered bodies in a large container and poured over them an acid liquid that melted them, but not completely and, finally, I burned everything and left the place; at last my revenge was done, but inside me something was still burning and would not leave me alone.
The next day in the newspaper I saw that they reported the fire I started, but they didn't say anything about the bodies. I felt relieved, but inside I felt nothing but rage for those damned people who killed just for the sake of it. With nothing left to lose, I decided to hunt down all the people who were doing evil in the world. I became a vigilante, or so I would like to think, but things never work out the way you want them to.
As early as 1885, when I was 25 years old, sometimes, when I had outbursts of anger, I killed for no reason. The ones who suffered the most were the prostitutes; I had already killed several and I tried to control myself but I couldn't, maybe because they reminded me of my mother, I don't know. I had several encounters with these workers of the night and I killed several and left their bodies lying around because of the frenzy I was in at the time, that's why I was labeled a murderer, but since in these times the police couldn't do much without evidence, they never knew who the murderer was. I was a very clever killer, I left nothing for them to track me down and in the city they created stories about me, hahaha, it gave me so much laughter, but I still felt empty; I had already lost my humanity, I only saw humans as mere prey for hunting.
The years went by. When I was 30 years old, I stopped killing for the sake of killing and I dedicated myself to killing only the bad guys. I started to control myself more and always went out with this black suit so I wouldn't be recognized. More stories were created about me: the bogeyman, the man in black. I liked those stories, but I kept on doing my thing, killing any criminal that came near me. My way of killing was simple: I would go out at night to wait for them to mug me in the alleys, but I was the hunter, not them. In the end I managed to subdue them by the arduous training I had to hunt them and put them to sleep with strangulation or chemical materials to put them to sleep; I had many possibilities and so I continued my horrible life.
One night like any of my horrible nights, when I was chasing some ruffians, I cornered them in an abandoned building and with knives I started killing everyone I came across. In the end I was going to melt them with acids, that's why I never cared about the bodies; I mercilessly killed everyone. I was in a very damaged mental state and, in a frenzy of madness, I just threw knives after knives and did not stop to look; and when I reached the end of my massacre, I turned to see my work of art very smiling, but that smile on my face was gradually changing to one of horror when I saw 3 children between 10 years old, each dead on the floor with large cuts that I had generated. I dropped the knives and grabbed my head kneeling on the ground; I told myself what the hell I had done. I remembered that the lowlifes also had something to take care of; I got so carried away by my hatred that I forgot that I wanted to protect the weakest and I had committed a very heinous crime, more heinous than killing some bums: I followe with my own hands 3 innocent and pure lives. A heartbreaking scream was heard in the darkness of that building; I screamed in pain as the first time I lost my beloved.
I walked out of the building very scarred by what I had done. I took off all my clothes as if trying to get the blood of those children out of my body; I was left with only a pair of shorts. Staggering from my actions that did not enter my head, I left the building and walked down some alleys. Already before leaving the alley, I grabbed a sharp metal from the ground and, trembling, directed it to my throat, wanting to end it all; I couldn't stand the guilt that dwelled in me anymore.
When I looked down the alley, I saw at the end a nurse girl who was looking at me somewhat frightened. I just smiled at her and proceeded to slit my throat and fell to the ground bleeding out; I only saw that girl running towards me, but I quickly passed out. When I opened my eyes, I was in a hospital bed in chains; it seems I had finally been discovered. I asked myself, "Why didn't I die?", and just then that nurse who found me came in, she told me that she had saved me, and since her ambulance was nearby, they managed to save me. The police wanted to ask me some questions because I was near the scene of the crime I committed, but they did not suspect me. After a while the officers came in to ask me some questions; with trickery I managed to get out of trouble, you can see that they are not very competent, heh heh, but I will not underestimate them.
After all this theatrics with the police, I talked a lot with the nurse and we spent a lot of time together. She asked me about the alley, I told her that I had only consumed things I shouldn't have that day and she believed me and we continued talking. I started to have feelings for the nurse; she reminded me a lot of my first partner. I know I shouldn't be like that; I committed a lot of crimes to end up with a partner. I felt it wasn't the right thing to do and I didn't deserve a happy ending, so I decided to walk away from her and decided again to vindicate myself with society. With my new lease on life I decided to help others and started with simple jobs and then something bigger. I had a lot of money from all the victims I had snatched, even land. Eventually I managed to set up an orphanage on that land and worked as a cobbler for the rest of my days; I didn't want to go through what I had gone through again.
Forty years have passed. Today I am 70 and it is 1930. My crimes were never solved, and in the shadows I am known as 'the man in black', the specter that carries off the most corrupt souls in society. It is ironic to think that I have spread more fear among criminals than the police themselves. Sometimes that irony makes me laugh.
I never thought I would sow fear in criminals, but that pain of taking the lives of 3 innocent beings still gnaws at my conscience. I decided to keep quiet for the sake of my legend to continue to make criminals tremble and keep them at bay. At the end of my life, I am sitting in an armchair in my house, looking out the window and dying in solitude and silence. I regret many things, but not making the scum of society feel fear; I just wish I could change a few things, like visiting my mother and talking more with her and those children I killed. So far I see their faces in my mind; at least I know that hell is waiting for me to purge my sins and it only remains for me to tell you, readers, to always think with a cool head and not let your feelings take over your thoughts. I knew love, hate, anger, guilt, selflessness and went down the wrong path; I only wish you luck in your travels, survivors, take care of yourselves and your loved ones. You never know Jack will be out there.; this was my little story. Thank you.