The villagers whispered 'Jack the Ripper' behind his back for two good reasons. First, he tried to kill a group of boys who had been bullying his older sister, Annie. Second, he had habits of piling dead rats and planting dry shrubs behind his dad’s garage. A group of adults sought to banish him from the village, but Jack’s father, who was the village head, assured them that Jack was just a normal child. 

No, Dad… 

It’s not! 

It’s not like that… 

Jack was always a peculiar child; from sunrise till sunset, he spent more time with animals in the woods than with other children. The other children shunned him, their faces twisted in fear and revulsion. Only Annie was there to hug him tightly, whispering that he was loved and that he wasn’t different. But in truth, Jack was different; he was protective of her. He wouldn’t let anyone—especially those he judged to be scumbags—come close to Annie or else they would have lost one or two of their limbs. 

When he was six years old, his mother suffered from a brain disease that twisted her mind, turning her from a loving mother into a stranger. One cold night, Jack witnessed his mother taking his father’s life, the horror of the scene forever etched in his mind. Afterward, she turned on Jack, blaming him for the killing and begging the villagers to cast him out. Jack couldn’t do anything; he was a child deemed untrustworthy and abnormal. 

Shortly after, his mother was murdered in the house, with a stab wound marking her body. Coincidentally, Annie disappeared without a trace. At that point, the locals strongly believed that Jack’s family was demons that would bring wrath to the world. Scared, the locals decided to evacuate the village, leaving chants of exorcism and whispers of Jack’s name. 

Twenty-one years have passed, but Annie is nowhere to be found.  

Jack, now a detective, lives happily with his wife and their 5-year-old daughter, Persephone. Last month, Jack bought a terrace apartment with the most beautiful view in LA, giving him a nostalgic vibe. Mary, his wife, is a professor at a university of arts and loves Jack as much as he loves her. And Persephone, with her blonde hair resembling Mary’s and the large blue eyes that remind Jack of his sister, is a perfect combination. She is the cutest and sweetest girl that Jack could have ever asked for; after all, Jack suffered from his bitter childhood that haunted him until they came into his life. 

A week ago, Jack received an email from the LAPD that sent his heart racing. As he read the chilling details, the memories of his past flooded back: 

Detective Jack,  

After investigating the scene in Kelsey St., our officers discovered many dead rats piled together, as well as dead shrubs scattered across the floor. We believe that this case may somehow be linked closely to other cases in LA. However, as the investigation proceeded, detective found dozens of cases with the identical pattern of dead rats and shrubs at the scenes. Currently, our forensics are investigating the shrubs to uncover any fingerprints on them. We would sincerely appreciate it if you could lend us your expertise next Monday. 

LAPD 

Jack sips his latte for the hundredth time while staring at the grand entrance, like a criminal ready to disguise himself as an officer. However, twenty minutes have slipped by, yet he remains frozen in his seat, heart pounding an irregular rhythm against his ribs. Is this all connected to Annie? Is Annie really still alive? Where was she all this time? Memories flash through his mind once again—returning to that deserted village, the air dense with despair and the echo of his own footsteps. A chilling emptiness had enveloped him then, an ache that still haunts him today. 

At last, the hand on his wristwatch ticks to four, and he reluctantly opens the car door. Images of rats and shrubs, his mother and father, the village, and Annie floods his mind, as he got closer and closer to the main entrance. He nods, forcing a smile that feels more like a forgery than a genuine kindness as his colleagues leave the building. Suddenly, one of his friends, Alex, jumps onto him. “How ya doing, my man?” 

“Tired. Couldn’t sleep last night. Got to attend a meeting now.” Jack says in a hurry, rubbing his eyes and acting drowsy. 

“Why sleepy? Watch’n videos all night, eh?” Alex nudges Jack in the shoulder, attempting to show sympathy. 

“What’s wrong with you? I’m sleepy and worried. That’s all.” 

“Worried? Wha’ you worried-?” Alex stops talking midway, as if he was about to hurt Jack. 

“I’m going now, Alex,” Jack pats Alex’s elbow. “Text me after eight o’clock, mate.” Suddenly, Alex grabs hold of Jack’s arm, looking straight into his black eyes. 

“Listen. Your sis is fine. Pro’ly liv’n her happiest life. And you’ve gotta daugh’er to raise.”  

Jack slightly nods, still unable to stop thinking about his sister.  

“Thanks, Alex.” 

“Take care, man. Remember, you’re not alone in this.” 

Jack enters the quiet, busy laboratory that is scrutinising the shrubs and rats. “Detective!” a scientist waves at him. “This is the data we have so far. Currently we have the highest match of 78%.” 

“Thank you, Sarah.” Jack sighs with relief. 

78% is neither close nor far from 100%. How should I find Annie without acting dubious? Should I ask the scientist to take a rest while I analyse the DNA? Possibly it would be better if I- 

“BANG!” 

Suddenly, the door slams to the side, and Chief Watson, Jack’s boss, storms into the room glaring at Jack. “Good afternoon, Chief Watson.” Jack says in a condescending way, without looking back. A few years ago, Jack outdid Chief Watson in many fields, and people started questioning Chief Watson’s competence, whispering behind him about how someone so young could effortlessly overshadow a “seasoned” officer.  

“My dear Jack,” Watson starts talking, “is there any reason for you to be in this room? Hmm?” 

“I was assigned to this task. And please do not touch the file. My scientists have worked hard to organise them.” 

“Yours? Hmm? Hehehe. I must’ve misheard. Did you say your-” 

“Sir, with all respect, I have no interest in talking to you. Please leave.”  

Watson’s face flushed crimson, a storm brewing behind his eye as if the room is about to flood with screeches and screams. Luckily, Sarah comes in with a new analysis while huffing and panting.  

“Detective Jack! Our analysis has come back, and we actually found someone with a 100% match!”  

Jack freezes, dropping his coffee onto the floor and spilling brown liquid in a way that mimics the splatters of blood, as if his heart and mind are at odds. “Show me…Please… Thank you,” he says, holding his breath in an effort to stay composed. “Ba-dump.” Please. Annie. Not you. “Ba-dump.” You better not be killing people. “Ba-dump.” Please!!! Scanning through the paper he finally finds them: 

“Freeman Annie: 18%”  

“Freeman Mary: 100%”