I stared at the knife in Audrey Rose’s leg, imagining how it’d feel to slash his throat open with it. I’d never wished for anyone’s blood to be on my hands before, but, as I clutched the girl I loved, her lifeblood emptying onto me and the floor, I prayed for the chance to return the favor on him tenfold. I would gut him while he still breathed and feed him his innards. Jack the Ripper would tremble at my ruthlessness, the brutality in which I carved him open and laid him bare.
