Ripper Row

Things are looking a bit unsettling in England with a murderer on the loose plucking unsuspecting victims from the city streets to satisfy his grizzly curiosity. No one knows what Jack the Ripper looks like or who he will strike next. Authorities hunt furiously among the crowds in search of the killer nabbing anyone who looks at all suspicious. Keep your head down and your wits about you or you might not make it out alive.


As the Terror-Story Goes ...

Tendrils of fog curl lazily around those who walk the dark streets and cling to tattered bits of black parasols, forlorn reminders that the denizens of this forsaken place are in mourning. The wailing keens of those who’ve lost someone dear punctuate the air of a city shrouded in darkness and despair. Shadows lurk everywhere. Everyone is a stranger and no one can be trusted. The yellowed newspapers plastered on sides of buildings shout the dire news in bold headlines: patrons of the Ten Bells Pub are disappearing. Whispers permeate every shadow-filled corner and foreboding alleyway, rumors of a dark figure stalking the streets plucking unsuspecting souls who fall victim to his nefarious whims.

Bobbies rush in and out of Scotland Yard, their brows furrowed with anxiety and their eyes averted from the citizens they are helpless to protect. Their efforts to warn away potential victims has all been in vain as more and more people seem to flood the streets each day. The locals are starting to call it the Autumn of Terror and no one knows when the horrors will stop and England will be safe once more. How do you save people from a villain with no known identity? For weeks he has been taunting the police by mailing them grisly notes detailing his murderous crimes, all signed with the same shudder-inducing name: Jack the Ripper. One thing is clear, this is his city now and the suffering is far from over for those who visit Ripper Row...