((A collection of small stories based on my character Anodyne, also known as the Ripper during different times in her life. Each story is told from the perspective of soldiers and civilians that have come across her. Rumors, a backstory of sorts. It deals with a real life event, real life situations. Some of which may be graphic, some may be slightly disturbing. It's not to bring awareness, but it's nice to be aware that these things are still going on in Africa.))

"I'm Agent Rene Denis, Interpol. Tell me your name and occupation."

"My name is Sergeant Philip Taylor, Liberian Armed Forces."

"Tell us about your run in with... The Ripper."

"I'll start where it matters."

Monrovia, Liberia.

June 24th, 2001. 6: 47 PM.

The Anti-Terror Unit was involved with looting, killing, things of that sort. They were and are a bunch of thugs. Even soldiers like you all were doing it. It was disgusting. Some civilians tried to fight back, but they were killed quickly and easily. I remember my unit responding to shots fired and ended up running into the Anti-Terrorist Unit as they were raiding a home. They killed the father of the house for trying to fight them off, they were going to kill everyone else in the house. I had to speak up. "What the hell are you doing?!" I yelled, grabbing their commanding officer by his collar and pinning him to a wall. "Get your hands off of me." He said to me, a few of his soldiers grabbing me and throwing me to the floor. "These people are helping the rebels, they must be killed or detained. So, that's what I'm doing." The commanding officer, Sergeant Johnson, I remember his name, said to me. "You boys need to get up and get out right now. Don't make us arrest you."

We weren't going to leave at first, but the rifles that were eventually raised to our faces changed our minds. "Okay." I said, gesturing for my men to follow me out as I stood. Once I reached the doorway one of the people in the house, a young man, spoke up. "If you leave us The Ripper will see you as being just as bad as them." He said loudly, "The Ripper is coming. The Ripper is here. The Ripper leaves no survivors. Do something to earn The Ripper's favor. Don't leave us here."

I didn't pay much mind to this Ripper thing, but it did feel wrong to leave them. I knew they were going to be killed or arrested for nothing. But I still left. I cut my losses. It wasn't maybe two minutes later when I heard the young man yelling out curses, the sound of an assault rifle silencing him quickly. I felt horrible for what I did. No, for what I didn't do.

Time went on. I kept thinking about it while standing guard with my unit, the Anti-Terrorist Unit coming to join us later. Obviously they were there to make sure we would take bribes and keep our mouths shut. I wasn't going to. I had no intention to. "Take this. This is a... gift." Johnson said to me, holding out a small stack of hundred dollar bills. "No." I said, "That's blood money." I told him, "This is all blood money! The money keeping your uniform looking nice. The money paying for your home. The money that buys the food to feed your family. You're a soldier. Don't act like you're better than me and mine." Johnson obviously felt disrespected, pulling me along away from the group to talk to me. Talk being used loosely. All he did was threaten me. But this was short-lived. The sounds of guns going off behind us took our attention away.

A few of our soldiers dropped, but there was nothing and no one. "What just happened?" I asked, "Someone just shot at us!" A soldier said, pointing to the dead. "Sniper?" Johnson asked, "I'm not sur--..." The soldier was cut off by a blade entering his neck, dropping his gun to grab his neck in hopes of stopping or slowing the bleeding. "Shit!" We all scattered, eyes searching for enemies.

We couldn't find anyone. The sun was going down, it was getting darker so that made it harder for us. More gunshots from around us. We watched as more dropped into it was just Johnson, me, and his second. "Up here." Johnson said, pointing to a home. We charged in, luckily it was empty. "Upstairs." I said, gesturing to the steps that led up to the second story of the small home.

"With the high ground we'll at least be able to hold them off." I told Johnson, like him and the others I just thought we were caught off guard by rebels. Probably former soldiers that defected, it was the only way to explain why they were able to kill the others so easily. "There has to be a light in here." Johnson said, his second feeling the walls until he found a switch. "Got it!" He said, flipping it up. The sudden burst of light revealing a light-skin young woman dressed in black paramilitary gear, "Oh shit!" These were the last words the other soldier said to us before the woman grabbed his throat, forcing him to a window and flinging him out.

"Shoot this bitch!" Johnson said to me, both of us unloading towards the woman. She was quick though. She grabbed a piece of glass and threw it at me, stabbing me in my hand and causing me to drop my weapon before she dived from the window. "We need to get her." Johnson said, moving to the window. Leaning out. Almost as soon as he did I heard the sound of a gun, it wasn't his. It was this woman's, she pulled him from the window and let him fall. Climbing back in to finish me off. I didn't know what to do. I panicked.

I was so scared. Confused. I started to pull the glass from my hand as she got closer, she pulled her knife. She was either ready for me to attack or she was sure I wasn't going to be able to fight at all and was taking her time. Playing with me. I managed to get the glass from my hand, lunging at the woman. It was all a blur but I could feel it cut her as much as I could feel her blade dig into my face. My eye. The blood was blinding me the more it built up and got into my other eye, but I saw her holding her face, she was angry. I thought she was going to kill me.

"Up there. I hear something." A voice shouted from outside, more soldiers were coming. I could hear them all. A large group. "Fuck." The woman said, "You live today, soldier." She said, moving towards the window. She cast a final glance to me before climbing out. Leaving me to be saved. She doesn't know that Johnson survived too. He was born with his heart on the right side. A birth defect saved his life.

"You want me to believe that The Ripper is just a girl?"

"Yes. She's maybe... a teenager. She was very young."

"I know child soldiers are a thing to you people, but I doubt this assassin was a little girl. Maybe you're mistaken. Tell this... Johnson that I want to see him."

Present Day.

Undisclosed location.

"Okay, so you're Mar-..."

"Yes, Marcellus Johnson."

"Right. Don't interrupt me. I'm Rene Denis of Interpol. Tell me what happened after you were rescued."

"Sure. I can't remember everything, but..."

Monrovia, Liberia.

June 24th, 2001. 7:04 PM.

I laid there. Head leaking. Chest leaking. I was sure I was going to die until I saw the others. I heard yelling, I lay there with my eyes open searching as best I could for someone who could help me. Then I saw her leap from the window. I never told the others this but I was scared out of my mind. She landed near and I just froze up. I didn't want this little bitch to finish me off right there. "We've got a survivor up here!" I heard a soldier yell, "I think he's the only one. But, check for more to be safe." That was it. I was going to be saved unless I bled out before they got to me. But, I got lucky. I got really lucky.

"Hold on. Let me stop you here. When she shot you and threw you from the window, you were close enough to get a look at her, yeah?"

"Yes. I can remember her."

"A description and then continue."

"Young, very young. Light skin. I think she was black, maybe an Arab or something. She had very long hair, it was like she never cut it before."

"Okay, continue."

The soldiers found me after a short while. As they were helping me I blacked out. From what I could hear before I completely lost consciousness they thought I was about to die. I thought I was as well. When you go dark you only expect the worse. And then I woke up at our headquarters in the city, I had been patched up but I was on life support. I had been in a four day coma.

"Okay, so the date was...?"

Monrovia, Liberia.

June 28th, 2001. 8:01 AM.

The twenty-eighth. It was morning. Early in the morning too. "Shit." I said to myself, searching the room with my eyes with anything to let me know exactly where I was and what time it was. The television was on. I freaked out because of what just happened to come on. Coverage of the war. Nothing special. But then there was a story about you. Interpol. You were coming here to look for this Ripper bitch. She was wanted for war crimes, assassinations, all that good shit. I thought she was a rebel, but it seemed she was just a vigilante who sometimes took money for what she does.