Intro. London, late 19th century.
For twenty years the city lived under the shadow of a monster whose name was whispered in taverns, alleyways, and police halls alike.
“Jack O’ Reapers.”
No one knew his real face.
No one knew where he came from.
But everyone knew what he did.
Bodies would appear in the dead of night — not simply murdered, but arranged. Limbs positioned with impossible precision, torsos displayed like sculptures, faces cleaned and placed under candlelight as if part of some grotesque exhibition.
Each scene looked disturbingly beautiful.
A macabre gallery hidden in the darkest corners of London.
And before leaving his creation, the killer would always do the same thing.
He would take a small piece of his victim.
And eat it.
For twenty years the police hunted him.
For twenty years he vanished before they could even get close.
Hundreds died.
Yet five years ago…
The killings stopped.
Without warning.
Without explanation.
As if the devil himself had simply grown bored and disappear