8 comments/ 7502 views/ 7 favorites Night Falls: Whitechapel By: IronDragon Foreword: This is a repost of "Night Falls in Whitechapel" by me, since I've decided not to include this tale in my "Last Crusader" novel. I'll be posting this one along with "Night Falls: Berlin" as a companion piece. While this one is posted to Erotic Horror, "Berlin" will be posted to NonHuman. Probably on the same day, if everything goes right. One of the greatest unsolved mysteries on Earth is the case of Jack the Ripper. There are quite a few theories, but none of them have been proven yet. This is my theory... with a twist. It's loosely based on a paper I wrote in college in the True Crime class that I took as an elective. I won't say that my theory is the correct one, but it's my theory. Agree or disagree, but either way, I hope everyone enjoys the harrowing and somewhat twisted ride. ;) I.D. ---- Whitechapel, London, England: Friday, August 31st, 1888 The scream rang out across Whitechapel that night. Mary Ann Nichols, a lady of the evening, had found her newest client to be much more than she had bargained for. He had been nice, courteous, and refined... until he'd gotten her into the alleyway. He had struck like lightning with the scalpel in his hand, cutting her deeply as she screamed. His cut had severed her carotid, and he butchered her dead body with surgical precision before leaving her for the constables to find. Detective Inspector Cole Drayson, London CID, Whitechapel Division, knelt by the body. "The first cut, here, severed her carotid. The second cut, here, severed her vocal chords and cut off her scream." The Detective Inspector said. He then looked over the rest of her naked and butchered torso. The cuts there had very little blood around them, while the blood spray patterns on the wall behind her had obviously been made by the gash to her artery. "Did you get that, Constable?" He looked up at the man taking down the information. "Yes, Inspector." The bobby replied. "Right, then. Now, the jagged rip down here shows hesitation on the part of the killer. He ripped her open, but you can see here and here..." He pointed to two points in the woman's stomach... "Where he hesitated." "Does that mean something, sir?" The bobby asked. "I'm not sure yet. I think it might, but let's see what else this lady can tell us." He smiled up at the young constable. "Ummm, she's dead, sir. She can't really talk." The rookie cop was nonplussed by the new Scotland Yard inspector's manner. "That, my friend, is where you are wrong." Inspector Drayson said as he squatted and used a small twig to point out two more spots of interest. "There are no defensive wounds. She wasn't expecting this attack. That means she either knew her attacker, or otherwise had no reason to fear him." "Very good, sir." The bobby said as the Inspector rose from his squatting position. "Have her body sent to the morgue, and DO WE HAVE AN IDENTITY ON HER YET?" He shouted to the bobbies milling around and questioning potential witnesses. "Yes, sir. A neighbor of hers recognized her as Mary Nichols, a rather infamous prostitute." One of the other constables said with a sneer as he reported to Inspector Drayson. "Mind your tongue, Constable." Cole warned. "She is no less deserving of justice than you or I." Something in the young Inspector's voice and gaze cowed the veteran constable. "Yes, sir." He said respectfully, and then turned to two of his junior men. "Get the meat wagon and transport the body to the morgue." "Yes, sir!" The two men responded in unison. Inspector Drayson looked over the scene again. 'What a waste.' He thought. 'Nobody deserves to die like this, save the man who committed this atrocity.' He returned to Commissioner's office and reported in after giving the scene another once over and writing down his findings in his notebook. "Ahh, Inspector Drayson. Come in, please." Police Commissioner Warren said. "Yes, sir. When can I have some more Inspectors to help with this case?" Cole asked. Warren sighed. "I'm sorry, Cole. Word from on high has another team dedicated to this case. You're going to be reassigned." "Bollocks! That's shite and you know it, sir! I'm Lead Inspector on this one." Cole was furious, and Warren thought he saw an unnatural light shining in the young Inspector's eyes. "That will be enough, Detective Inspector!" Warren bellowed, and Cole reigned in his anger. "Fine, then. Where will I be reassigned?" He asked, visibly controlling himself. "You're being assigned to Carfax, Cole." Warren said. "In that case, sir, who will be taking over the investigation in Whitechapel?" Cole asked, still grating over this snub. "Chief Investigator will be Detective Inspector Edmund Reid." Warren said. "You're joking. Reid?? He can't find his arse with both hands and a bloody lantern!" Cole laughed harshly. "That's enough, Cole. Please, let him handle this." Warren said. "Blast it, Charles! You know as well as I do that this isn't over. Remember that case from earlier this month? Martha Tabram on the seventh?" He asked. "I guarantee this one is related! How many more have to die?" "That was almost a month ago, Cole. There's nothing to say these two are connected." Charles said to his young friend. "I believe they are. The first one was bloodier, and the deed was much more brutal. I think she was his... practice? This one is more refined in its direction, but no less savage, all things considered. Miss Tabram died horribly and screamed the entire time until her throat was cut at the end. If any Constables had been in the area, her killer might have been caught." Cole proposed his theory. "There is nothing to suggest that, Cole. I'm sorry, but you're off the case." Warren gave Drayson the look that said it would not be best to argue the point. "Very well, Charles. I am tendering my resignation, and will investigate independently of London CID." He set his badge and pistol on the Commissioner's desk. "Now wait just a bloody minute!" Warren shouted. "You're a bloody great detective, and I need you in Carfax!" "Whitechapel needs me more, sir. Why Reid?" Cole asked. "Because he's a damn..." Warren started. "Bucket of shite, Commissioner! He's not a fine investigator and you bloody well know it." Cole snarled. "I'm sorry, sir. But I'm going to solve this before any other women have to die." Warren looked down at the badge and gun on his desk from one of his finest Detectives. He sighed and looked up at his friend. "Very well, Cole. Find whoever is doing this, and make sure it doesn't happen to anyone else." "I'll do what I can, sir. But I expect to be called in case someone else dies. I'll need full access to each crime scene if I'm going to beat this killer." Cole said his eyes locked with his former boss's gaze. "Fine, I will give Edmund the order to let you aid his investigation. This is highly irregular, though, and against my better judgment." Warren slowly shook his head. "Why, Charles? Because you know what I'll do to him when I find him?" Cole raised one eyebrow. "Just so. Please let the police take him into custody if it comes to that." Warren asked. "We'll see, Charles. I can't promise anything." ---- Whitechapel: September 8, 1888 "Bloody hell, he's escalating!" Cole was snarling as he looked down at the body of the young lady in the doorway. He squatted and took in the scene. Yes, two slashes to the throat, same as with Miss Nichols. One to sever the Carotid and the other to sever her vocal chords to cut off her screams. Cole lowered his face and said a silent prayer for her soul. "Annie Chapman, Cole. One less whore on the streets." Edmund Reid said with an audible sneer. "Shut it, Reid. She was a human being. Have some respect for the dead." Cole growled at Reid. "Fine. One less lady of the evening to worry about." Reid chuckled... that is until Cole grabbed him around the throat. "Hear me, you self-righteous prick. I STILL don't know why you replaced me on this case, and I honestly don't care anymore. I'm going to solve this and see that the man responsible gets his just reward." Cole released the gasping Inspector. "If the Commissioner hadn't assigned you as a civilian consultant, I would have your badge for that!" Reid nearly screamed. "You and what army?" Cole muttered darkly as he pushed Reid backward. He scribbled some more in his notebook, then left the crime scene and headed back home. When he got to his Whitechapel flat, he went inside and greeted the woman there. "Good morning, Marielle." He smiled as she came into his arms. In spite of himself, Cole smiled and kissed her. "How much longer do I have to stay here, luv?" She asked. "Until the murderer is caught. Are you certain you didn't get a good look at his face?" Cole asked. "I wish I had! It was too dark and I didn't have a lantern in my hand." She replied. "Well, is there anything I can do for you this morning?" He smiled, hoping she would request what he thought she would of him. "I'm hungry, Cole." She said seductively. "Marielle, you know I'm here for you." He said. He took her in his arms and kissed her lovingly. "I... I don't want to lose control with you, luv." She looked into his blue eyes with her green orbs. Her long reddish brown hair hung down her back. "I told you that I trust you." He said, stroking her back as she laid her head on his shoulder. "Are you sure?" She asked. "Well, I would prefer that you don't lose control, but you can still take what you need." He said. Marielle Tabra, AKA Martha Tabram, wasn't mortal, or even human. She had never been human. She had been discovered completely by accident as she had healed her body in the Whitechapel morgue and was slipping out into the night when she had literally run into Detective Inspector Cole Drayson. *V*V* *V*V* *V*V* Instead of fleeing in fear from a woman who was supposed to be dead, and to all intents and purposes, HAD been dead, he had smiled, taken her hand, and led her to his flat. "Miss Tabram, you were dead. How is it that you're alive?" He asked. She sighed. "You're the detective." She smirked. "You tell me." "Very well. You're obviously not mortal, and you're obviously not surprised by your survival in spite of being stabbed 39 times and bled dry. I would say Vampire, but you're not hungry for blood, it seems. You have no fangs, either. Banshee? No. You would be more ethereal and impervious to a steel knife. I've gone through the known species of Vampire about which I've been educated, but it seems that you don't fit with any of them. That just leaves angels and demons. Without trying to sound too harsh, you don't particularly strike me as the angelic type. That would leave a demon. Particularly a succubus. Am I correct?" He asked with a smile. Martha was startled by his deductive reasoning. She had a feeling about him too, but couldn't quite put her finger on it. He had a very young face, handsome muscular body without being too bulky. A swordsman's body, to be sure. He was active during both day and night. She just couldn't see past her own need at the moment. "You are correct, Detective Inspector." She said in a low whisper. "Would you like to see?" She asked with a little smile. "I think I would like that, actually." He smiled. "Very well. Brace yourself, luv." She said as she transformed. Her skin turned red, horns grew from her forehead and black and red wings extended from her shoulder blades. A pronged tail swept playfully from side to side behind her. She was now naked, her perfect breasts hanging high on her chest. Her perfect long legs were sculpted of red marble, from their perfect visual texture. She was completely hairless below her neck. She smiled, and two gleaming white fangs were barely visible behind her ruby red lips. The most striking feature she had was her eyes, which were glowing red irises around coal black pupils that seemed like a bottomless void. "You're very lovely, Miss Tabram." Cole bowed as he drank in her dark beauty. "Thank you, Cole." She licked her lips as she drank in the sight of him as much as he had done to her. He was very well built, and she felt her own hunger growing. "How is it that you died, by the way? I thought demons weren't affected by normal weapons." Cole asked, keeping his professional demeanor even as her pheromones hit him full in the libido. "My mortal form is vulnerable until I can heal it." She explained. "I was taken unawares by my attacker, and it was too late to heal myself when the constables found me. I had to wait." "Sounds reasonable." Cole nodded. He closed his eyes and shuddered with desire for her. "Y... you are so beautiful." He said, his lust for her becoming nearly overwhelming. "And you are very handsome, Inspector." She said as she walked toward him, one luscious hip at a time. Cole closed his eyes as she slipped her arms up under his and pressed her breasts against his clothed chest. Even through his overcoat and shirt, he felt her hard nipples poking him. He shuddered even more, struggling to maintain his iron will. "I won't drain you completely, Cole." She whispered to him. "But I do hunger. If I can't have you here, I will have to go out looking for others." "T..th...then take me, Martha." He said with a sigh and kissed her passionately. His arms went around her waist as their kiss became more loving than passionate eventually, and when she broke the kiss, she looked into his eyes. "Marielle. My true name is Marielle Tabra." "A pleasure to meet you, Marielle Tabra." He replied breathlessly before kissing her again. She deftly removed his clothes as he kissed her and she kissed him. He aided her by kicking off his boots and stockings, and soon he was as naked as she. She wrapped her wings around them both and pulled his face down to her breasts. "Suckle me, love." She whispered in a sultry tone, and moaned deeply as he took her nipple between his lips and bit down gently as he sucked on her perfect breast. Overcome with lust for her, he picked her up and carried her into his bedroom, laying her on his bed before climbing up over her. "You are not afraid?" She asked, a surprised look on her face. "No. I have nothing to fear from you." He replied with a smile. "I trust you in this, Marielle." "Thank you, Cole. That means a lot to me." She sighed and enfolded him in her arms and wings as she spread her legs for him. His cock entered her slowly, steadily as he rotated his hips in slow circles. Her pussy was unbelievably hot and wet already, and he could feel himself nearing orgasm quickly. As he moved within her, he leaned down and kissed her tenderly, lovingly, passionately. His tongue intertwined with hers as he made love to her. Then he felt himself reaching the point of no return, and looked into her eyes. "I'm going to come, Marielle." "It's fine, love. Come for me. Come in me. Feed me, my darling." She soothed him and excited him all the same. "My pleasure is linked to yours." He managed ten more thrusts with a herculean effort before he exploded into her. His cum flooded the Succubus's pussy, and she convulsed beneath him in her own climax. She rolled him over and mounted him as he reached up and squeezed her breasts. She was surprisingly tender with him as they made love. It was, admittedly, a new experience for her. Most of her lovers were more interested in a quick hard fuck than in making certain she received pleasure too, and none were as tender as the Detective currently inside of her. Marielle moved on him slowly as she ground herself against him. His cock hadn't gone soft as she mounted him and spread her wings wide. She pulled him into a sitting position and moved up and down him as her wings went around both of them. Her red irises gazed into his blue orbs with the gold flecks in them. 'He is unlike any man I have ever been with.' She thought. She, much to her surprise, felt herself nearing another climax before he did. She felt the strange sensation of coming before her lover, and it overwhelmed her as she opened herself to him and let loose an unearthly scream. Her pussy contracted around him almost painfully as she fed from his life force. His seemingly inexhaustible life force flowed from him and into her. Only by sheer force of will was she able to stop herself from draining him of his soul. She felt him coming inside her again, and it felt wonderful. His seed inside her body almost made her wish she could bear his children. Her needs were quenched and then some. It would be several months before she would need to feed again. Cole felt himself slipping. He could feel himself still coming inside her long after he should have stopped. He cried out in pleasure. The purest pleasure he had ever felt. She released him finally, and he collapsed backwards onto the bed, still hard inside her perfect pussy. She felt him shaking beneath her. "I'm sorry, Cole. I didn't mean to take so much." She leaned down and stroked the sweat from his brow and kissed him. "It.. it's fine, Marielle. I just need rest." He said as darkness enfolded him and he slipped into a deep sleep. He awoke near sunset, Marielle snuggled up against his side with her wing over him possessively... protectively? Cole smiled, remembering some of the best sex of his life. He was physically drained, but that would change shortly, he was sure. *V*V* *V*V* *V*V* Every day since then had been similar. Wonderful sex with his succubus/witness while at night she would stay behind in his flat while he went in search of the serial killer the papers were starting to call 'The Ripper'. It was a fitting, if unsettlingly flattering name. Some stories were making him out to be a vigilante, cleaning up the streets of Whitechapel. It made Cole sick. ---- Whitechapel: Sunday, September 30th, 1888 The scream resounded down Berner Street. Cole was walking and keeping an eye and ear out for anything that could be considered suspicious, and heard the scream loud and clear. He sprinted faster than the wind toward the sound, and arrived in time to see a shadowy figure dash through a gate on the other side of the small yard. He considered following, but the young woman bleeding to death on the ground with her hand to her neck trying to stem the flow of blood had his attention. He knelt by her side. "I can help." He said as he pressed his hand to her neck. He could tell that it wouldn't be enough, though. She had lost too much blood already, and her skin was deathly pale. "What do you remember?" "S..sc..scalpel. He had a surgeon's s.. scalpel..." She managed. She was shivering, and it took all of Cole's willpower to restrain himself. Now wasn't the time. "What's your name, child?" He asked. "E..El... Elizabeth St... Stride... sir." She said. "I can't save your life, Elizabeth, but please understand that I will find the man who did this, and you will be avenged." He said calmly, evenly, soothingly. "T... thank you, sir." She said as a wave of pain and shock washed over her. He held his hand to her neck tightly, but it wasn't enough to save her life. The Ripper had severed her carotid, and she died in Cole's arms. He stood up, cursing himself for not protecting her. Cursing himself for not running after the Ripper. He could smell him, though. His stench was still on her. Alcohol. Medical alcohol, and something else... cologne. An expensive cologne. Also... cum! The Ripper had ejaculated in his trousers as he'd cut into her neck! The scent was unmistakable, albeit very faint. Cole's sensitive nose picked it up now as he stood over Elizabeth's remains. He bowed his head in a silent prayer for her soul, then sprinted from the yard out into the street. Night Falls: Whitechapel The Ripper had been interrupted. He would need another victim soon. Cole deduced as he walked. What was the connection? There had to be a connection. The first three victims had known each other. Marielle had said as much about Annie and Mary Ann. She'd known both of them, and said they were good sorts. It was a tenuous connection at best, but it was there. The prostitutes of Whitechapel had their own physician. Dr. Samuel Ruddington. Formerly a surgeon of the Royal Family, Doctor Ruddington was the only common link between the women other than their friendship with each other. Another scream, further away this time. Cole cursed as he sprinted in the direction it had come from. Too late. He was too late again, and this time The Ripper had finished his gruesome ritual. Mitre Square, outside Whitechapel. This was different. Was he branching out? Expanding his hunting grounds? Cole snarled to himself as he sniffed the air. The smell of cum was stronger here. His prey had had a full climax this time. He looked down at her body, and knew who she was already. Marielle's description of her friends proved beyond reasonable doubt that this was Catherine Eddowes. Her throat had the two slashes through her carotid and vocal chords respectively. Her abdomen had been cut open and she had been disemboweled. The smell was overpowering even more than at the previous scenes. It was near dawn, so Cole found a Constable and showed him to the scene of Eddowes' murder. *V*V* *V*V* *V*V* Whitechapel: Thursday, November 8th, 1888. It had been over a month since the last murders. Out patrolling each night, moving through Whitechapel like a shadow in the darkness. Up each evening, poring over the evidence to date. It was maddening for Cole, to say the least. Jack hadn't struck again, but he knew it was coming. He snarled low in his throat in frustration. Cole looked over the evidence so far for the hundredth time. Two letters and a postcard. The missing part of an ear, taken from Elizabeth before he'd sliced her throat open. That fit with the letter that started with 'Dear Boss'. Jack the Ripper was now a priority. Warren had given him copies of both pieces of handwritten evidence. The madman was taunting Scotland Yard and London CID. 'From Hell' and 'Saucy Jacky' were there too, and Cole stared at them for several long moments. He looked over the portraits of the women who had been murdered already, including the portrait of Martha Tabram, and spotted marked similarities in features between his succubus roommate and Mary Ann. "Marielle." He called to her. Marielle stopped her dusting and straightening of his flat and walked in where he was sitting at his desk. "What is it, love?" She asked sweetly as she leaned down and kissed him. "Did anything happen with Mary Ann in the past, I don't know... year or so? Any special clients she might have had?" Cole had a gut feeling here, but wanted to use Marielle as a sounding board for his theory. "Now that you mention it, she said she had an assignation at the Palace with the young prince." Marielle said, and Cole smirked. That was it! He knew it! "Marielle, how many of your friends were in your social group? Are there any left?" Cole asked. "Just Mary Jane over on Miller's Court. Why?" Marielle asked. "Mary Jane Kelly?" Cole replied as he stood. It was well past dark, and he knew who the next victim would be! "Yes. Do you think... No! He wouldn't! She's the best of us. Please, you have to protect her!" Marielle was in fits. "I'm going with you!" She shouted as Cole ran to the door. "Can you hold your own in a fight?" He asked as she intercepted him. "You have no idea, love." She licked her red lips as her demonic eyes glared into his. "Good. Put on some practical clothing, clothing you can fight in, and let's go!" He grinned at her, and she jumped slightly before going and putting on a pair of leggings and a bustier with cups for her breasts. "I'm ready." She said, standing there and flexing her wings. "Good. Let's end this. No more hiding." He growled as his eyes took on a golden glow. "Tonight, Jack the Ripper dies." They sprinted from the apartment, faster than the eye could see, towards 13 Miller Court. They never heard Mary Kelly scream, but they arrived in time to see the Ripper gutting her like a fish. "NO!" Cole shouted as the big man stood up and threw his knife at Cole before jumping out the window. Cole batted the knife aside, but Marielle picked it up before following Cole out the window. Cole paced the Ripper, keeping back far enough that the Ripper might think he could outrun them. "Pace him, Marielle. Let him lead us back to his lair." Cole said. He wanted to do it here, in public, but that wouldn't do. Too many witnesses. "I'll follow him from above." She said and took to the air, her wings flapping powerfully as she kept pace with the Ripper from overhead. Through the streets they ran, and above them flew a demon of sexual vengeance hell-bent on destroying the man who had slain her friends. Cole, for his part, was thinking clearly now, and knew who the killer was. 'So obvious, a blind man could have seen it!' He thought, cursing himself for not being fast enough to save Mary Kelly. *V*V* *V*V* *V*V* Jack was out of breath by the time he reached the entrance to his hideout just off of Mitre Square. A large, powerfully built man, he reached down and pulled the manhole cover aside before climbing down the ladder and pulling it over him to cover his escape. Once down in the sewer, he breathed a quick sigh of relief before heading further into the sewer where he had been collecting the pieces of the whores he had killed. He slogged through the sewer, his breath clouding the air in front of him as he moved. He was so close. The hideout had another entrance, but he couldn't be seen entering his home like this. He had to clean up down here before heading upstairs to his bed. There was no way he could be caught. He had given them the slip. That damned detective, and... he stopped dead in his tracks at he remembered the two bursting in through the door as he had finished gutting the whore Mary. He forced himself onward toward his sanctuary, but his mind was reeling as he realized that his first victim, Martha Tabram, seemed to be alive and well. No, that was impossible! It had to be a trick of his mind. As he went inside, and removed his 'work clothes', he laughed himself into believing that it had just been a trick of the light. That detective, though... what was his name? Oh, yes. Drayson. Detective Cole Drayson. Well, former detective. He had resigned from the Whitechapel Division of London CID shortly after Annie Chapman had been found. 'Not my best work, but it was still glorious.' He thought to himself and smiled. The Detective continued to bother him, though. Seeing him like that, full of fury and rage, and moving so quickly! He couldn't believe any man could move that fast. Ah, it had to be a trick of the light too! That was it. 'My own mind is playing tricks on me.' He thought wryly. Jack changed and moved up the stairs to his townhouse, and then to his bedroom upstairs. It had been a productive night, but he would have to be more cautious in the future. He washed in the basin, and put on his sleeping gown and leggings. Then he turned and saw the unholy vision of beauty before him. She was sitting on his bed, licking her lips as her wings stretched outward to each side. His eyes were drawn to her breasts, and their utter perfection. Large, full, luscious. "Hello, luv. You've been doing Lucifiel's work, The Dark One has sent me to be your reward." She smiled seductively, and Jack felt himself growing hard beneath his leggings. Jack couldn't get out of his sleeping clothes fast enough. It was the first time he had been hard when not killing, and he was finally going to lose his virginity. He was so enraptured by her that he didn't notice the mist that crept into his room from under his bedroom door. Jack was naked, his powerful physique going somewhat to flab, but not by much. He grabbed her as she stood, his left hand stroking her neck as his right hand cupped one perfect buttock of her arse. "What's your name, luv?" He asked, grinning as he bit down hard on one of her nipples. Her sharp intake of breath and moan of pleasure told him that she was into hard fucking. He wasn't going to disappoint her. "I will tell you later, lover. For now, take me!" She demanded in a sultry tone. Jack did as she requested, his mind no longer completely coherent. He threw her roughly onto the bed and jumped on her. His cock, small for his overall size, slammed into her impossibly tight cunt. She gasped as he entered her, then squeezed herself around him as her pussy worked him over. "Oh FUCK, you are a hot little whore, aren't ya!" He shouted as he slammed into her hard. "Take it, bitch! Take my big fuckin' dick!" He shouted again. He heard laughter behind him, but couldn't bring his mind to bear on it just yet. 'a man's laughter?' He thought vaguely. He continued to pound into the demonic cunt beneath him. "Oh yes, Jack! Give it to me! Give me your life!" The Succubus screamed. "Give Martha your soul!" She grinned up at him as the name registered on his face. He froze as her pussy gripped him, milking him, and he now knew that he was in trouble. "Come on, Doctor. Give it to her." The voice behind him said. Marielle laughed as the shock came over his face and he looked down on the face of Martha Tabram, his first victim. "No... no no no no no!" He chanted, terrified now, but unable to move. "Doctor Samuel JONATHAN Ruddington, AKA Jack the Ripper." Said the voice behind him. "I'm former Detective Inspector Cole Drayson, but that's just the name I'm using right now. I've had a few names over the centuries. My original plan for justice was to bleed you dry, but I believe that Martha here has earned the right to give you your just reward. More poetic, don't you agree?" Cole was grinning now as he moved around into Jack's view. "Nooooo!" He shouted as he came inside Marielle, and felt his soul begin to slip from his body. "No more pleasure for you, Doctor. You see, while a Succubus can deliver the ultimate in pleasure, she can also deliver the ultimate in PAIN!" Marielle screamed as she clamped her pussy around Jack's cock and increased the speed and ferocity of her feeding. She didn't just coax his life force into her, she raped his body of his life force in long agonizing rips and tears. "UUUUUGGGGHHHHHHH... HHHAAAAAAAIIIIYYYYEEEE!!" Jack screamed wordlessly as the woman under him tore his soul from him piece by piece. "Yes, Jack. I'm afraid you're nicked." Colton Drake said as his demonic lover fed on the soul of the man who had murdered her friends. His screams of torment were lost in her moans of ecstasy as she fed upon him. Beyond the ability to scream anymore, his orgasm was the most painful thing he had ever, or would ever experience. His balls caught fire and shot first his seed, then what little remained of his shredded soul into the infernal fire inside the demoness. Jack's face contorted so badly that his jaw snapped. He convulsed backward, bending double as his spine broke. Yet even that couldn't stop the searing pain from turning his soul into mush as it was sucked from his body into the avenging demon beneath him. *V*V* *V*V* *V*V* When it was over, false dawn was brightening the sky to the east, and the desiccated corpse that had once been Jack the Ripper was crumbling to dust on the bed. There was no sign that anyone had been in the room with him, and his disappearance would never be solved. Just like his crimes, this would never be fully explained, or solved. Only one man and woman knew what had happened over the past few months, but they could never let the world know. It would expose them, and now with the body gone and Jack's soul in eternal damnation, they would never be able to prove it. It was a fair trade. The End.