#joxter isn't mentioned by name. but he's obviously guitar man.

[the-local-oddity]

The Ripper

A short story but an old legend Snufkin recalls and soon learns the truth behind. As well as reunites with someone from long ago.

I'm on mobile, so I can't put it under a read-more, but please enjoy:

“There are no monsters in Moominvalley.” Snufkin started, as he pushed more wood into the fire, his friends sat on the opposite side of him, “This thing isn't a monster… it's something else…”

The exchanged glances before looking back at him, he was looking down at the fire, instead of at the group.

“He's called, The Ripper, ”  Snufkin took a deep breath and started his story, “he hunts the forests late in the night, he's eight feet tall with razor sharp claws that cut through anything. His eyes are glowing blue and can be seen for miles upon miles.”

Sniff grabbed onto Moomintroll, and nervously squeezed his shoulders, Snufkin had barely started the story and he was already terrified.

“Oh, would you calm down Sniff.” Little My hissed at him, “If you dare start screaming I'll bite your ears off!”

“What does he hunt for?” Moomintroll asked, to get the others attention back to Snufkin, who glanced up at him.

“People,” Snufkin answered in a grim tone, “anyone who is outside the woods late in the night. No tent, no house, no camp.” He motioned to his own tent, and Moominhouse not too far off, “We're safe right now, bit if we were in there, ” he pointed to the forest, “We'd probably be dead.”

Sniff covered his mouth so he couldn't scream and Little My wouldn't bite him.

“Or maybe not. Depends on if he's moved from his last victims.” Snufkin shrugged and looked up to the stars.

“Moved on?” Little My leaned forward, “What do you mean by that?”

“He likes finishing off bloodlines you know. Starting from the oldest and moving down to the youngest.” Snufkin was now looking at his friends, his face seemed more serious than usual.

Little My looked at the others, who were petrified with fear, then back to Snufkin “Who told you this story anyhow?”

Snufkin paused and tapped his chin, “I don't really remember, all I remember is hearing it when I was very young.”

“Well, it's not true.” She stood up and smirked at him, “I was told the same story, it was just to keep us out of the woods late at night. It's not true!”

“You're probably right.” Snufkin nodded at her, and the others seemed to relax just a little bit, “After all, I've never seen him, and I've been in the forest without a camp several times.”

“exactly, ” Little My folded her arms, proud to have proved his story incorrect, but then got a mischievous smile on her face, “he either doesn't exist or he isn’t finished with your father yet.” Her eyes burned into Snufkin.

“What do you mean by that?” Snufkin asked, still looking calm.

“Don't you remember stupid?” She began to walk towards the bridge, the others were watching closely, “The person who told us that story was your dad, and he said that he was The Ripper’s current target. Which means, soon as he kicks the bucket, you're next!”

She proudly whipped around and walked to the house, Snufkin watched her and glared when others weren't looking. The heard the sudden noise of a fire being put out and looked back in time to see Snufkin zip his tent up.

“Good night.” Was all he said.

The all walked back to the house, Moomintroll planned on talking to Little My and telling her not to say such things again, but she was already curled up and bed and he didn't want to risk bothering her.

In the morning, Little My went to go bother Snufkin but found he wasn't by his campsite. He wasn't even in his tent when she poked her head in. She frowned and looked around the dinghy tent, her eyes catching sight of a piece of paper. It was a drawing, a sort of sketchy one.

At the top, he had written: “The Ripper” she looked down at the picture itself and was surprised when the face seemed oddly familiar. Quickly she folded it up and shoved it into her dress pocket. She had to ask someone else about it later and before she could be noticed she slipped from the tent and back to the house.

“Well now…” Moominpapa started at the drawing Little My had handed him, “I certainly see what you're saying, they do share a resemblance to each other, but Snufkin hasn't ever seen him before, I don't believe it's intentional.” He tapped his fingers on the desk.

“He probably just doesn't remember meeting him.” She said with certainty, “But he has seen him before, I know that because I've seen them together before!”

“When was that?”

“When he was really little…”

“Exactly, ” he passed the picture back, “it is an odd coincidence, but nothing major I believe.”

“Fine. Whatever.” She snatched the picture from him and hoped off his table, “It's super freaky though!”

“I never said it wasn't.” Moominpappa sighed and shook his head.

She later placed the picture back where she had found it, and hoped Snufkin never knew it had been missing.

As the days went on, Snufkin didn't talk about The Ripper anymore and was always sure to be back at his camp before night fell.

No was willing to say it out loud, but they all knew he was scared. Or at least the ones who heard the story and what Little My had said that night did.

Snufkin could never be sure if his father was dead or not, he had never seen the man, but of course, he knew the story was fake. He'd never seen The Ripper before or was that only because his father was still alive? He could never know, and he stopped wanting to risk it.

And as winter came the fear remained, though much more calmer than before, he was able to push it down and ignore it as he began his travels. This year, he found a new path that lead him down to a new town. It was small, one of those towns that were mostly made of travelers who came and went, those who did live there permanently had family roots in the town and they didn't want to leave.

He walked through the town as the rain started to fall, he pushed his way into a bar or a cafè not that it mattered, he was allowed in and he didn't like alcohol. Not that he'd ever had it before, but he didn't like the sound of it.

He found himself a seat where he wouldn’t bother anyone, and no one would bother him. Hopefully.

Near him, there was a man sitting on a stool, he seemed to be tuning his guitar. The man gave a glance in Snufkin's direction and smiled at him, Snufkin quickly looked away. The man felt familiar, but he couldn't put together why.

“Are you new around here?” He directed the question to Snufkin.

“Yes.” He kept the answer short, hoping that would deter him from continuing to talk.

“You seem a little young to be all on your own.” He strummed his guitar to check the sound, “Where are your parents?”

“I don’t know.” Snufkin took out his harmonica to polish it and hoped the man would leave him alone if he seemed busy.

The man leaned forward and took a good look at the harmonica, then at Snufkin. He watched him for a few seconds, before going back to his guitar. Snufkin sighed to himself in relief.

“Ripper!”

Snufkin jumped a little bit but turned to follow the voice, he was an old gentleman standing near the guitar man.

“Leaving so soon?” The older man asked him.

“I told you, I don't stay anywhere too long.” He strummed the guitar again, “It's bad luck.”

The older man patted his back, “I couldn't see you ever being bad luck, but I can't stop you can I?”

“Nope.”

“Well then, could play us one more song?” He asked the guitar man, who smiled and nodded.

“Alright, one final song.” He stood, and strummed the guitar loudly to gain attention, “I call this, The Story of The Ripper!”

Snufkin sat and began watching the man closely as he started to move around the room and sing his song. It told the story of the Ripper, but not exactly like how Snufkin knew it. It was different.

The new story went as follows:

“There is a creature known as The Ripper, he lurks the forests to find lost souls in the night and return them to their homes. His eyes are glowing blue, his head is pointed and on his pitch black hands are sharp claws. He is seen as a beast and monster and his frightful appearance scares this eye wishes to help.

He wasn't always this way, long ago he was a traveler, he was kind, and wasn't one to settle down. Then one day he met a kind girl and fell in love. With her, he had a son, a child who adored with all of his heart. A tiny Snufkin, who even at a young age showed love for all nature. But one day, the man was out with his child, they lost track of time and the forest got dark. It wasn't long before they were separated. The man did everything he could to find his son, but it was too late and by the time the sun rose in the sky, his child was gone.

In grief, he took to wandering again, leaving behind the girl he loved and home he had grown so used too. Afraid that he could fail them as well. As the years went on, his grief changed him and he began to look more beastly. The man promised to help any lost soul he found, but in the dark, the people only feared him.

He is known as the Ripper to those who have seen him, and stories tell of him as a beast who only kills. But that was never his truth.”

As the man finished, it slowly dawned on Snufkin why he looked so familiar and he quickly began to dig into his backpack, pulling out the picture he was drawn that last spring. He held it up to the man to compare, the man glanced over at him.

They looked so very much alike and something seemed to click in his mind. He suddenly remembered what Little My had said about who told them the story, and as his eyes fell on the man once more a connection to an old faded memory resurfaced.

“Papa?”