A NIGHT OF TWO JACKS...

                                     
  LONDON- 1800'S- MIDNIGHT.
 

ON A DARK AND STORMY NIGHT, THE WIND WAS HOWLING AND THE RAIN WAS GNASHING IN THE DARK STREETS. NO ONE WAS OUT, NO PEDDLERS AND NO COPPERS.THE FULL MOON WAS HIDDEN BEHIND ANGRY BLACK CLOUDS. ONLY ONE PERSON WAS LURKING IN THE EVIL TEMPEST...

MRS. LOGAN LOCKED DOWN HER PAWN SHOP FOR THE NIGHT, STAYING LATE WITH ACCOUNTING BILLS THEN LEAVING WELL INTO THE LATE HOURS. SHE DID NOT FANCY WALKING IN THE RAIN, BUT NO HELP FOR IT. IN THE SHADOWS, A PAIR OF EVIL EYES FOLLOWED HER DOWN THE WET STREETS. SUDDENLY, SHE WAS GRASPED, AND FLUNG INTO AN ALLEYWAY. FALLING IN THE FILTH, SHE LOOKED UP TO SEE A WELL DRESSED MAN HOLDING A SCALPEL BLADE, READY TO SLICE HER TO BITS. THE SMILE ON HIS FACE VANISHED, AS HE STOPPED IN HIS TRACKS, STARING AT THE OTHER END OF THE ALLEY.
THEN, SLOWLY, HE CREPT BACKWARDS.
SHE DARED TO LOOK ALSO, AND SAW A SIGHT THAT WOULD CURDLE THE VERY MUD SHE LAYED IN.

A TALL MAN STOOD THERE IN THE WHIPPING STORM, WEARING A RED FLOWING CAPE AND A BLACK TOP HAT...AND EYES THAT BLAZED HELLISHLY RED.
"STOP, FEIND...YOU WILL KILL NO MORE WOMEN THAT WALK THESE STREETS ALONE...EVER!" THE TALL MAN YELLED, ADVANCING SWIFTLY.
"AND JUST WHO IS READY TO STOP ME NOW...YOU?" THE ATTACKER SNEERED BACK. 
"IT IS I...SPRING-HEEL JACK, THAT WILL STOP YOU ON THIS VERY NIGHT, TO BE SURE!" AND WITH THIS, JACK LEAPED INTO THE AIR, SOARING 100 FEET TO LAND CRASHING INTO THE MURDERER THAT THE POLICE CALLED JACK THE RIPPER.

THE TWO MEN STRUGGLED FEIRCLY, AND AS THE RIPPER SLASHED AT SPRING-HEEL JACK, THE BLOWS HAD NO EFFECT AT ALL. 
THEN, AS MRS. LOGAN WATCHED IN TERROR, JACK GRIPPED THE ARMS OF THE RIPPER AND HELD HIM FAST.
"NOW YOU WILL FEEL YOUR VICTIM'S PAIN...AND BE UNDONE!" 
JACK THEN SCORCHED THE RIPPER'S SOUL WITH HELLFIRE EYES BURNING. THE RIPPER SCREAMED, AS HE FELT THE FURY OF HIS JUDGEMENT BECOME REALITY.
THE BATTLE WAS SOON OVER.
THE LIFELESS FORM OF JACK THE RIPPER SLOPPED IN THE MUD, BLOOD POURED FROM HIS SCORCHED EYES TO FLOW IN THE WET EARTH...THE THREAT WAS OVER AT LAST.

MRS. LOGAN WATCHED ALL THIS IN SILENCE. THEN, AS JACK SCOOPED HER UP IN HIS POWERFUL ARMS, AND BOUNDED OVER ROOFTOPS TO GET HER SAFELY HOME, SHE SWORE TO KEEP HIS SECRET WITH A THANK YOU KISS GOODBYE.
THEN, WITH A SMILE AND A GREAT BOW, JACK LEAPED AWAY INTO THE TEEMING RAIN AND WAS LOST IN THE DARK NIGHT.

AND IN THE WEEKS THAT FOLLOWED, WHEN SHE WOULD HEAR RUMOURS OF THAT HORRID SPRING-HEEL JACK, HER ONLY REPLY WOULD BE..."THAT'S NOT THE JACK THAT I KNOW..."

NO ONE SAW THE RED TINT IN HER EYES AS SHE REMEMBERED HER CHAMPION...OR HER FANGS...