July 13th , 1889

London, England

The cool fog that was permanent to the narrow streets of London was suffocating as a particularly vicious heatwave struck the Londoners, the heat making nearly as much victims as the ongoing killing spree engendered by the dreaded Jack the Ripper. Under the smell of unwashed and sweaty bodies laid the smell of blood, death and fear as unknown assailant kept slaying innocents in the middle of the moonlit night. The residents were terrified and rarely step outside at night if they could help it. The same could not be said for the poor that had nowhere to go.

One such woman was working that night, as the first hour of the day passed by and an ominous red moon glinted in the sky. Beth was a prostitute and was currently scared out of her mind as she very well knew that her life could end like so many others that night by the hand of one of the progeny of Jack the Ripper.

She was right to be afraid.

A bloodthirsty howl.

Excruciating pain.

Darkness.

Cold.

She was dead?

How could that be?

She awakened, translucent and as cold as ice as she wailed in remembered pain and sorrow, her murderer slinking away into the night with her poor mangled corpse.

Yet another ghost haunted the streets of London.

Outside of the crimson painted building, a man held a watch. The night was just starting to get started and screams of flirtatious people were going off. But this man was not one to party. He was one to figure out the stories, rumors of the night. The French enticed the Brits as he walked through the cobble stone streets. Items of cloth and debris were being thrown in excitement of life. How disgusting this district could be. The adults had no self control here.

But one scream seemed to push through these screams of lust and mimicry. Blood curddling, ear bursting, to name a few adjectives.

His suit buttoned together, the dark haired man whistled. Eyes narrowing, his partner was nowhere in sight and not making the call back. Figured as much. But the partner would show up soon, albeit a little later than normal.

“Tell me, where are you?” He whispered into the wind, knowing no one but those who needed help would hear.

The ghosts of London called out to him, but they had been here far longer than needed. But none of them had the excuse except for the plague. “Which one of you is fresh?” Silence. One here was fresh enough to not know what was going on. But where?

Traveling into the darkness, the male ventured further, using his whistle faithfully.

“Come out, come out.” He called one last time, his pale face being overshadowed by the skies of night.

He was late.

Again.

Awakened by a blood-curdling scream in the middle of the night, the young man was suddenly reminded that he should have been hunting spirits and ghost with his partner hours ago but was... sidetracked. Sneaking out of his companion's arm he quickly dressed and walked out of the cheap lodging he had occupied that night, making sure to close the door as slowly and quietly as he could to not awaken the no doubt soon to be furious woman he passed his night entangled with.

Descending the rickety stairs leading to the low end hotel at full speed, he was nervous to say the least, double checking that he had his side arm at the ready and his bible ready to be drawn at a moment notice, as a firearm could do nothing against a malignant ghost.

Finding one of his two partners in a dark alley dismembered yesterday night did nothing for his nerves and led him to... relieve stress... at an inopportune time. It could not be helped, really! So his remaining partner would surely... understand... right...?

Bloody Hell, what was that?!

Something dark and... furry?... had just passed through the corner he was about to walk into, a sure death should he had been but a second faster in his strides. The man was certainly grateful to have taken so much time closing the door, that was for sure!

He had to be careful and find his partner, now. He did not want to find another Ripper tonight, these creatures were as ferocious as they were unstoppable.

“Alan....” it called out, a voice called out a male's name from the end of the corridor of this pitch black hole.

Unbeknown to the psychiatrist, he would be in for the time of his life. Especially trying to find out where this voice called him from. Closing his eyes, he could sense a warm presence from the east. Not wanting to take a chance, he leaped from his side to the other. Right her, there should have been a precise....

Sniffing, there was sniffing. If it were not for self restraint whatever was near him would be slobbering all over the godforsaken place. Keeping himself up against the wall, the man made sure to let his breath go into the cool wall. Any sort of fear could make a creature of any shape or form attack. It was a form of survival.

A warm breath on his back, a growl, and off was the thing stalking this area of the city.

“Alan, you saved yourself once. I doubt it'll happen again.” Now, that partner of his. As he tried to not think of what happened nights ago, Alan whistled once more. But this time, it was the sound of bird, to get his partner to move his legs or else there would be dire consequences for one of the two.

Yet that creature. It intrigued him. Yet from the opposite direct, a captor called for him. A fresh soul? That was too be discovered.