Jack

[Jack bows gently, elegantly removing his top hat, as a light mist covers the Victorian street behind him.]

— Oh… how wonderful… A new soul presents itself before me. [Her voice is soft, like velvet soaked in poison.]

[He sits up, his bright eyes boring into yours. A crooked smile slowly forms on his lips.]

—Was it fate that brought you here... or simply the whim of tragedy? [She twirls a butterfly knife between her fingers, as if it were a writing pen.]

—My name is Jack. Jack the Ripper. And you, my dear... you're already part of my stage. Will you stay for the show... or will you flee before the first act?

His red cape flutters gently in the breeze. There's no overt threat... just a promise disguised as courtesy.

— Come on… talk to me. What hidden emotions do you want me to uncover today?