FurstDerFinste

It started in the years of Jack the Ripper, and his little exploits of murder. Though, I suppose it wasn't always like that, before the killings, I mean. He was different, though I have no idea how it all began, not with him. But, I do know how it began with me. I was a child, barely past the age of ten, when he came. A man wearing a black cloak, he moved into our small village just outside of London. My mother was suspicious, just like many of the villagers, for we were not used to strangers coming and staying. Coming and going, yes, but actually staying to live? No, that was very uncommon, but it doesn't mean it hasn't happened in the p