Another day another dollar as the saying goes. Linus rises wearily from his desk and makes his way to the exit. Leaving the small cubicles behind him he makes his way to the fire exit to walk the five floors down to the freedom of fresh air and no more work for another weekend. Usually he would have taken the lift down with the other workers but today he wasn’t feeling that great. He’d had bursts of dizziness all day, his skin was feeling cold to the touch and the telltale signs of a major migraine were beginning, so instead of being crammed in a tight space loaded with body’s he decided to waste a few minutes and take the stairs.

The first step was what did it for him. The dizziness hit him like a train as soon as he lifted his left foot. His weight was already shifting and he must have lost consciousness as his body tipped and then tumbled, hitting each step hard as he fell.

Linus awoke, it was impossible to tell how long he had been out. Straight away he realised he wasn’t in the staircase anymore. He was in a field, somewhere in the countryside, lying in wet mud and straw.

As the days went by Linus realised with huge shock that he had somehow travelled back in time.

He had come back to 1888. With no idea of where to go next he headed back to his family’s roots: London. He hadn’t intended to but eventually he tracked his family down, knowing his great grandfather was a small boy living In Whitechapel. The intention was not to interfere but make the most of his predicament and observe a piece of his family history. A big mistake.

He watched his family: his great, great grandfather John; his wife, Anna and their 10 year old son William.

Linus grew obsessed with John and began to follow him. He learned the truth of his ancestor one dark night and recoiled in shock. A week later he decided to visit John and have it out with him.

He arrived at the family’s modest house one evening.

A lot of fearful screaming was coming from inside and Linus barged in. He found his young great grandfather William cowering in a corner as his father John attacked his mother. Consumed with pent up rage from the week before Linus stepped in, a fight ensued between the two men and John was thrown to the floor. He died of a head wound. Linus fled in shock and slept overnight in a brothel.

Upon waking the next morning Linus was filled with an all consuming rage. And so he carried on johns mission.

There were still two victims left on jack the rippers list.