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Dear Lord of Darkness

The document is a letter from someone claiming to be Jack the Ripper, addressing the Lord of Darkness, whom they view as a mere demon. The writer expresses their divine mission to purge the city of both demons and humans, asserting that their actions are guided by a higher power. They dismiss any attempts to imitate their work and vow to continue their holy quest until the reign of darkness is ended.

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334 views1 page

Dear Lord of Darkness

The document is a letter from someone claiming to be Jack the Ripper, addressing the Lord of Darkness, whom they view as a mere demon. The writer expresses their divine mission to purge the city of both demons and humans, asserting that their actions are guided by a higher power. They dismiss any attempts to imitate their work and vow to continue their holy quest until the reign of darkness is ended.

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V
Copyright
© © All Rights Reserved
We take content rights seriously. If you suspect this is your content, claim it here.
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Dear Lord of Darkness,

I heard that they call you the Prince of this city, but to me, you're just another demon, no
different from the rest of your infernal kind, even if you are a Prince of Hell or Devil
himself. I've seen your servants prowling the streets at night, their eyes glowing with the
malevolent hunger. Don't think I don't know what you are, what you all are—demons in
human skin, corrupting the city with your foul existence.

I laugh when they talk about catching me. They don't understand that my work is guided
by divine authority, that each slice of my knife is a prayer, a hymn to the angel who
speaks to me in my dreams. Grand work, the last job was, but I know you demons feel it
too, the terror that spreads when one of your own falls by my hand. You think
yourselves invincible, but you bleed just the same.

And then there's the matter of that foul imitator, the wretch who penned the "Dear Boss"
letter. A poor joke, an insult to my holy mission. How dare they dirty my name with
their crude attempts at mimicry? I am the chosen hand of God, and my work is sacred.
That pretender knows nothing of the divine that guide me, nothing of the righteous fury
that drives my blade.

I have slain both human whores and your kind vile demonesses, and each one is a
sacrifice, an offering to cleanse this city. You think you can hunt me, that your power
can match the will of the Almighty? I laugh at your arrogance. Your night prowlers,
your dark “Bobbies”—they are nothing to me. Each one I dispatch is another step
towards purifying this place, towards fulfilling the angel's command.

You may think yourself a lord, but you are nothing more than a demon to be purged.
Mark my words, your reign of darkness will come to an end, and it will be by my hand.
I am the instrument of divine justice, and I will not be swayed by your schemes or your
minions.

I will continue my work, and you will feel the terror of knowing that I am out there,
hunting all impure creatures. The next one I take will be a testament to my resolve, a
message written in blood. Do not doubt me, Lord of Darkness. Your time is coming to
an end.

Yours in holy wrath, so called Jack the Ripper

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