Ghost Stories & Paranormal Encounters

My name is Jack, I’m a prowler,
I like to prowl the streets of Whitechapel,
Looking for whores.
No one knows,
Who I am.
They try to get me,
But all their efforts are in vain.
I am the elusive one.
I am the Devil’s son.
I leave a trail to be followed,
Pieces of meat to be swallowed.
I even wrote a letter to the boss,
In red ink to represent the blood,
Of my victims, all whores,
And all of them got what they deserved.
Mary Ann Nichols was first to go,
Early Friday morning, in Bucks Row.
I left two slashes on her throat,
And her abdomen I tore,
Until she breathed no more.
Elated, my work done,
I went home.
Annie Chapman was the next I killed,
In Hanbury Street, Spitalfields,
As with Nichols, I left two cuts,
And opened up her abdomen,
Only this time I took the uterus.
Oh the sweet joy that brung.
Frustrated! And angry!
I was disturbed,
Doing my third.
I’d just finished cutting her throat,
I was disturbed and had to go.
I fled Dutfields yard at one a.m.
But still Elizabeth Stride was mine.
Catherine Eddowes was next to tear,
I left her corpse in Mitre Square.
I left the wounds I left on Chapman.
I stole some meat and took it home.
I fried and ate her left kidney,
You can’t imagine the joy that brought me.
I’d left graffiti on the wall,
And a piece of apron as a clue,
But still the Boss hasn’t cracked,
That I am Jack.
Mary Jane Kelly was number five,
I’d cut her throat down to the spine,
I left her abdomen almost empty,
And took her heart with me.
I left her mutilated body at Miller’s Court.
The Boss thought she was the last,
But I know better, there are more.
I was never caught.
It may seem strange me writing this now,
More than a century after the events went down.
Ha! Ha! Ha! I’ll sign off now.
My name is Jack,
And I am back!

Hope this little version of the infamous Jack the Ripper murders can entertain you. Most of it is taken from news reports of the time, but I do hope you like my little twists.

Sent in by Borloff, Copyright 2010