CURTAINS UP

Lights up on a manicured lawn bordered by shady trees and a swift-running stream. There is a table set with tea, and a servant is standing nearby. Jack is seated, but stands as the lights come up.

JACK

(To the servant) Leave me. I wish to be alone a while.

He waves a dismissive hand, and the servant leaves with a small bow. Jack walks to the stream and picks up a rope. He pulls, dragging a heavy object wrapped in canvas out of the stream. He unties the rope, opens the canvas, and Bloody Man sits up, gasping for air. He is still bound by the silver chain. He looks feral. His eyes are dark and his fangs are obvious when he speaks.

BLOODY MAN

One day you will make a mistake, Jack. One moment you will slip, and I will be free.

JACK

This could be that day. You know how to end it. If you want to die, I will oblige you. If you want to be free and join me, I will be glad of your company.

BLOODY MAN

Yes... NO! I cannot. But...

JACK

(to audience) What could I do?

Jack walks front-stage as he speaks. Lights gradually dim, leaving him in a spot, and curtains close behind him.

I took him, still bound by silver to my estate and dropped him into the swift stream that bordered the grounds. He drowned for an entire day without the sweet release of death, but still refused to turn me. He would not even tell me his name.

Eventually, the curse and his suffering overpowered his humanity. After a month of such torture, he acquiesced and passed his gift on to me. But while I waited I took my disappointment out on the working women of London. My victims numbered twelve by then. Five of them became quite famous. I even earned a nickname that spread across the newspapers, and in time the world. Of course, I played a small part in earning that moniker, by taunting the police with a letter. 'Dear Boss' I wrote...

I'm ashamed to say that I did not keep my end of the bargain that night. Instead of destroying my benefactor, I punished him with another night in the water. The following night, when I finally decided to end his tortuous existence, I found him missing.

A red glow can be seen behind the curtains. Sounds of modern vehicle engines and distance voices gradually  become audible.

Perhaps an animal discovered him. Or the current carried him away. A hundred and twenty-eight years have passed since that night in late August, 1888, and I never learned of his fate. I hope I never do.

The glow behind the curtains changes from red to green and a car horn blows. JACK exits through the center curtain.

FADE TO BLACK.