Disclaimer: The following fictional work is for entertainment purposes only and does not provide any historical accuracy.
If you’re reading this, welcome to the Sickly Sweet Candy Shop. My beloved confectionery has been a family tradition since 1888. Of course, my great-great-great-grandfather was running his business in the heart of London. Still, it didn’t last long after Scotland Yard decided to start rummaging around the shop.
Now you’re wondering what one of the world’s most excellent detective agencies would want with a humble candy maker. My great-great-great-grandfather was more than just an ordinary candy maker. My grandpa Jack was one of England’s most prolific serial killers.
The newspapers of the day dubbed him “Jack the Ripper.”
My grandpa Jack was an expert confectionery maker. And good old Jack loved his jelly sweets.
All those yummy, chewy, fruity Gummi Bears and Wine Gum that children eat by the handfuls? Yeah, those things are made of bone marrow and other ghastly bits the butcher may only dream of hanging in the front window of his store.
Hearts cut down the middle and still dripping with blood, swollen diseased kidneys, and eyes with the strings still on. Ears and tongues.
Grandpa Jack thought nothing should go to waste, and he was keen on making use of the lady bits and male privates. I know it may sound morbid in practice, but in his defense, meat in those days was tough to come by. Much of the livestock would frequently die as small babies. Or an animal would simply not produce meat and milk enough to make any profit. Life is hard for farmers, and butchers and tanners in the city suffered the effects.
My great-great-great-grandfather was a businessman. He decided to do something no one else had. Boil down gruesome pieces of meat that nobody wanted and turn them into candy treats. Back in those days, sugar cost a pretty penny, and only the wealthiest and most influential in London could enjoy his ghastly creations. It wasn’t until Queen Victoria got a hold of some of the jelly sweets that the world started noticing. Legend has it that the apple gummy hearts were a favorite of hers.
Grandpa Jack became one of the most famous candy makers in all of London, and with fame comes a false sense of security. No one believed a man so beloved by children and influential women could be a serial killer.
Like most serial killers, my ancestor began to get sloppy. A local child wandered into the shop one day, and Jack was running low on supplies. With a big order coming in, he felt he must take drastic action. When the child didn’t return home after several hours, the parents involved the authorities. Most of the evil deeds were done in the dirty city streets; a dead hooker was sadly not an uncommon sight. A dead body would just be added to the pile of rubbish, the blood and guts from butcher shops and tanneries, the piles of human waste from London’s workhouses, and the starved corpses of unwanted babies.
In the winter of 1888, when the Constable appeared in the shop, Jack knew he had to make a quick escape. He had family in New York.
I’m more than willing to show you how we make the candy first and if you ever want to come by the Sickly Sweet Candy Shoppe.
Good read! Now I know why I don’t like gummies or jelly beans. LOL