Tales of Jack the Ripper by Ramsey Campbell, Joe R. Lansdale, Walter Greatshell, Laird Barron, E. Catherine Tobler, Ed Kurtz, Mercedes M. Yardley, Stanley C. Sargent, Joseph S. Pulver Sr. Page A

shit.”
    “Are you all right?”
    “Must’ve had too much to drink… head’s a bit swimmy. What’s in this tea?”
    “Just a little something to help you relax.”
    “Tastes funny… s’not brandy.”
    “No. Something slightly stronger.”
    “Think I better go…”
    “Oops—don’t try to stand up. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”
    “Not gonna… hurt myself.”
    “Just sit back, make yourself comfortable. That’s better . If you don’t mind, I’ll turn on the camera now. Ready for your big scene?”
    “Don’t… feel good…”
    “Tell you what: I’ll just do my part, and you respond as you see fit.”
    “ Nuh …”
    “May I see your engagement ring? Thank you. This is quite incongruous; I am aggrieved to think of the man who would debase himself with such a charade. One cannot make a decent woman out of a pig by marrying it; a pig is only good for one use. If a man desires the heart of such a creature, there are far more sensible ways of obtaining it. The ring would be far better placed in its snout.”
    “No… p-please…”
    “Four down, one to go. Like all true showmen, I’ve saved the best for last—we have a long night ahead of us, and I don’t want to spoil it by going off half-cocked. The others were simple, just a matter of cutting their throats and copping a few souvenirs. Did you know the uterus feels exactly like a boiled egg?”
    “…please God no …”
    “Bit late to be thinking of God, my dear. But I’m sure you’ll soon be joining your sisters in sin: Mary Ann Nichols, Annie Chapman, Elizabeth Stride and Catherine Eddowes—the last two killed on the same morning! That was a busy day. But the pure of heart needn’t fear the knacker-man; he only calls on brute beasts. Animals are bred to be slaughtered, the Righteous to bleed them and dabble in their tripes. Do you know which you are? For rest assured he does.”
    “Help me… someone…”
    “Shut up, slut. Would you believe there are those who call my behavior unnatural? In fact nature is my guide: ‘red in tooth and claw.’ Did you know the male bedbug has a very similar method? Instead of bothering with the bovine peculiarities of the female anatomy, he violently pierces her belly with a specialized tool…rather like the one I have here… in order to propagate his seed in an orifice of his own making. ‘Catastrophic penetration,’ some call it. I call it… all in good fun.”
    “And then I just scream and flail around a lot as you’re hacking me to bits.”
    “More or less. I must say that was quite good for a cold read—nice job.”
    “Thanks—you had all the lines. Not exactly a barrel o’ laughs, is it? Is that the end?”
    “Just the end of your part. The movie goes on a bit longer after that with a big chase leading up to a climax on the roof of Westminster Abbey—typical Hitchcock finale.”
    “Starring Hitchcock himself, I assume. Do they catch old Alfred?”
    “Of course! But we end the picture with a sense of lingering unease: What if Hitchcock’s snuff film inspires other evil men to kill?”
    “Or women.”
    “Hm? Yes, I suppose so. Excuse me, I’m suddenly feeling a bit sick… don’t know what that’s about. Whew. Never mind. Anyway, once our little epic is finished, we’ll be entering it at all the major film festivals. Cannes, Venice, uh, Sundance… Toronto…”
    “Maybe you should sit down a moment. You look a bit green.”
    “Yes… thank you. Strange…”
    “Not all that strange, actually. I slipped something in your tea a moment ago.”
    “You… what?”
    “Little habit of mine. You see, I’ve learned that men are nasty, repulsive brutes who get a sick thrill from seeing women tortured and murdered. It happened to my own mother. As you may well imagine, such a thing can play havoc with a child’s mind. One day a man tried doing the same to me, and before I knew it I was covered in blood—his. I found that I liked it. It’s really the only thing you