" 1891 “The Ripper is here.” The whispered words somehow found their way through the cacophony of noise surrounding me. Wrapping around my chest in a vice-like grip, threatening to crush my ribs and pulverise my heart. I sucked in a shaking breath of air, smelling sweat and horse manure, coal and brimstone. Hell is Auckland city on a protest rally day. A scream rang out, and then another. The high pitched sound an "
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