BE ADVISED … THIS IS A DARK STORY.
The Grim Calling
He’d arrived a few days earlier in London from his native Scotland and would return on the morrow. His fold awaited him and he could not stay away long not even for this important work of the Lord.
The cold thick fog of London swirled around him as he walked along Buck’s Row in Whitecastle. The clock struck the half hour and he’d pulled his coat collar up to his ears where it nearly meet his hat in order to keep out the cold and damp.
He’d prayed that this cup might pass from him, but alas he was called to do the Lord’s work and couldn’t do less than follow His will. Ah, but it was a grim calling. Here among these poor creatures of the Lord, it was his duty to save whom he could. His duty it was to purify the souls of these poor fallen women, so that they might be received into Heaven.
And so, he walked, waiting for the Lord to lead her to him, she who would to be saved.
Mary Ann Nichols moved towards him, and she pulled down her shawl to show her white shoulders and bosom.
“Oy Johnny, do ye no want a bit o’ warmth?” she brazenly said to him.
“Aye, I’m in need of some warmth, lass. And you dressed the way you are could do with some warmth as well I’m thinking! Come, let me take you from this darkness into the light.”
He put one hand into his pocket where his sgian-dhub was hidden and with his arm around her shoulders he led her to a nearby alley.