Hyde Page 4

  But my laughter died away as I remembered the face of the girl who had started it all. She had heard my request for companionship and laughed. She had given me a look of loathing and contempt, a look I had seen on the faces of every other woman in the bar. I remembered my own appearance in the mirror, and the loathing even I felt at my reflection. I was hideous, a monster. I was shunned by men. Except for my driver. I remembered what the girl had said, how no woman would touch that I didn't pay for.

  I leaned forward. "I need fallen women."

  The driver nodded. "I know where we can find some."

  "Take me there. Now."

  I settled back in the cab and sat in silence, reliving the fight over and over again, savoring the screams of agony from those I attacked. They had laughed at me. I had silenced their laughter. I would let no man mock me again. But under my anger burned a deep shame. I was repulsive. Violence would not change that.

  Lucky pulled up to a boarding house in Soho known for its catering of prostitutes. Beautiful women wandered the street in frilly dresses with one corner tucked up, indicating their professions. I selected one and beckoned to her. She came up to the carriage with her face screwed up in distaste.

  I gave her a humorless smile. "I see your revulsion to me. But I'll wager you will be drawn to this."

  I waved a handful of coins.

  Her scorn transformed into a smile as she purred, "Sure enough, sire. What can I do for you this evening?"

  "Please me." I climbed out of the cab and waved to Lucky. "Wait for me. I have more to do before this night is through."

  I took the hand and dragged the prostitute into the boarding house, past the other men and women carousing in the lobby. "Which room?"

  The prostitute stumbled after me, calling out her room number. I hauled her to the door, kicked it open, and threw her onto the bed. I sullied her then and there, in ways I cannot describe even in this narrative. When the deed was done, I left her and returned to the cab.

  Lucky still waited for me in his cab and called out, "Where to next, sire?"

  The affair with the prostitute had left me feeling bitter and hollow. I needed escape and said merely, "Opium."

  The cab jerked as it moved off through London once more. I let the clop of the horse's hooves fill the silence. Lucky drove me through the damp streets to an area east of the London Bridge on the north side of the Thames. Hidden among the fog-laden wharves and disreputable shops lurked a battered wooden door.

  Lucky stopped in front of the simple door and pointed. I descended from the cab and approached the door. I rapped on the door with my thick knuckles. The door crept open, teased by a thick man dressed all in black. He regarded me with eyes almost hidden beneath a hairy brow, then stepped aside. No words needed to be exchanged as to my purpose.

  I descended a steep flight of stone steps worn smooth by an endless parade of desperate men. It brought me to a long and cramped room. An oil-lamp struggled to shed its feeble light through brown clouds of opium smoke. Occasionally, a shadow would be pierced by the tiny red glow of a pipe. Rows of wooden benches lined both sides of the walls like a slave ship crossing to the New World. Each bench supported a frail body draped in ragged clothes. They hunched over, trembled, and stared up at the ceiling, lost in a sea of delirium. Most of them sat silently, while others murmured to themselves in a hoarse whisper. No eyes turned towards me. I did not exist to them.

  I found an empty bench. A man in a long and ornate robe shuffled up to me out of the haze. I handed him coins. He handed me a metal pipe and melted away into the smoke again. That was the extent of our interaction.

  I slipped the pipe into my mouth and inhaled its sweet smoke. Almost immediately, I felt the rush of pleasure waft over me. Somewhere, in the depths of my mind, I knew this was not the first time I had sampled the drug. Jekyll had indulged in opium on numerous occasions, but never like this. He had only dreamed of this.

  The sense of warmth and well being came over me and I slipped quietly onto the bench to join the other addicts lost in their dreams. Hours must have passed before I awakened from the trance. I stumbled out of the shop to find light just beginning to break through the clouds. Lucky still waited for me in his cab. I climbed into the box and collapsed as I murmured to take me home.

  Lucky wound his way through London back to Jekyll's home. As I climbed out, I tossed him some more coins and called back, "I presume that this night will be kept of the utmost secrecy."

  Lucky counted the money as he said, "My lips are sealed, sir."

  I somehow managed to unlock the door to the laboratory and staggered inside. I found the chemicals needed for the potion and drank it down in one gulp. The agony of the change back to Jekyll seemed as nothing compared to the aches I experienced already. When the change was done, I let Jekyll make his way back up to his bedroom and drop into bed. We both immediately fell asleep.

  Chapter Five - The Wages of Sin

  I DID indeed suffer for my escapades the night before, and so did Jekyll. I awakened as he did, crying out in pain. At that point, I discovered that though my body transformed when I gain control, any injuries are shared between the two of us. Jekyll's larger and older body carried the bruises and scrapes of the fight in the pub, as well as an aching skull from the alcohol I consumed. He climbed out of bed, wincing and groaning from the pain, and called for his butler, Poole.

  Poole entered and rushed to his side. "Sir, are you all right?"

  "Yes, I'm fine," gasped Jekyll. "Merely the consequences of a difficult night. I seem to have fallen in my sleep and sustained some injuries."

  Poole seemed doubtful of this explanation, but asked no questions, as befitting a competent manservant. He helped Jekyll get himself prepared and fed. Afterwards, Jekyll called for his cab and rode to see Father Stevenson. In private with the pastor, Jekyll described the night's events in a rush of excitement that the priest himself clearly did not share.

  "It sounds," said Father Stevenson in grave tones, "as if you indulged in the sins of the flesh quite speedily."

  "No, no, no," said Jekyll. "I did nothing of the sort. I was not involved at all. Do you not see, Father, it was Hyde who carried out these acts. Him and him alone. I am clean of these sins."

  "But Hyde is a part of yourself, is it not?"

  Jekyll paused in front of a bookshelf, running his eyes over spines as he sighed. "Yes, of course. But once I drink the potion, he is entirely separate from me. Driven by thoughts and desires that are alien to my own. He told me so himself. Hyde seems to be in my mind somehow, seeing and hearing what I do as I do when he is in control. I can but exert a small influence on his actions. Beyond that, Hyde is a unique individual, a stranger with a mind as unique as his body."

  "And yet you allow this creature to inhabit your flesh?"

  "Indeed. Though the things he does are disturbing indeed, I find them strangely liberating. I get to enjoy the fruits of his debauchery without the consequences of a fallen standing among men."

  "But you do carry the pains of the injuries. You are not entirely without blemish."

  Jekyll paused. "True."

  "And you carry the memories of your sins."

  "Indeed. It was most discomforting to witness the enthusiasm with which Hyde injured those young men. The violence, the barbarism, the brutality was sickening. And I do share responsibility for unleashing Hyde on the world."

  Jekyll rose and placed his hat on his head. "I will make amends for what I have done. And I shall be more careful with Hyde's activities in the future, see if I cannot tame him somewhat."

  Jekyll picked up his cane, then paused. "Yet I admit, father, to finding the blood, the screaming, the brutality, all quite -- thrilling."

  Father Stevenson clasped his hands. "Only the Devil would find such monstrous behavior entertaining. You must fight his temptations. Once again, I insist that you must end this experiment and destroy Hyde once and for all."

  "I will take it under consideration, Father. Good day."


  Jekyll left with a bow. I could feel that he shared the same scorn I did for the vicar's morality. He was not as affected by the vicar's pleas as he claimed. I found I did not share his piety. I felt no regrets over the night's activities. Indeed, I looked forward to many more.

  Yet how was I to do so? It occurred to me at that moment that I was trapped inside Jekyll's mind. Though I had knowledge of the formula to transform myself from Jekyll to Hyde, I could not mix the potion to do so. I had no control over my body. As long Jekyll wished to remain himself, I had no means of escape. I could only wait until Jekyll chose to release me.

  In that moment, I realized that I was not Jekyll's brother or his son. I was his prisoner. And Jekyll was my jailer.

  I vowed that if ever I was unleashed again, I would throw the formula into the Thames River before I allowed myself to become Jekyll again.

  The bitterness I felt towards Jekyll festered in my soul as I watched him walk the streets of London. As he passed some of them, the men tipped their hats and said, "Good morning, Doctor Jekyll." Women curtsied as they cast him admiring and flirtatious glances. A street vendor gave him an apple, assuring Jekyll that payment would not be necessary.

  A man in a brown suit hurried up to Jekyll with a young boy under his hand. "Good morning, Doctor Jekyll. I thought you would be pleased to know that young Edgar has recovered from his ailments."

  Jekyll dropped to one knee and ran his fingers through the boy's hair. "Ah, so he has. How fare you, Edgar? Feeling better than you did a fortnight ago?"

  "Yes, sir," said the boy, shyly.

  "Thanks to you, Doctor Jekyll." The man in the brown suit seized his hand and shook it warmly. "Me and the missus owe you a debt of gratitude, sir. Bless you, doctor. Bless you."

  Jekyll clasped his hand. "Think nothing of it, Matthews. Such is why I pursued a career in medicine. Enjoy your day."

  "And you, sir." The man in the brown suit bowed and stepped aside to allow Jekyll to stride past with his head held high.

  Jekyll was a man beloved by the community, desired by women and admired by men. And what was I? I was a monster, repulsive to all who beheld me. No woman would touch me if I did not pay her. No man would respect me if I did not bludgeon him. I could spend a thousand pounds, but could never buy the honor that Jekyll enjoyed.

  Yet Jekyll was not the saint that so many claimed him to be. Would that they knew his experiments. Would that they knew I lurked within him. I entertained the notion of telling the world Jekyll's secrets once I was released. But who would believe me? Who would believe that one such as I could be hidden within one such as him? I scarcely believed it myself. No, leave it be for now. Leave it be.

  Jekyll made his way back to his carriage and ordered it to take him to a hospital near Soho. He rode them and alighted to hurry inside.

  Once there, Jekyll called to a nurse. "Excuse me, I seek four young men who might have been brought in last night. They were involved in a fight at a pub."

  The nurse widened her eyes. "Ah, yes. I know the men you seek. And badly they did fare, indeed."

  "I should like to examine them. I am a doctor."

  The nurse smiled. "No need to tell me, Doctor Jekyll. I know you by reputation. Of course. Follow me."

  The nurse led the doctor through the hospital until she came to a row of beds. Four young men lay on the beds, groaning and gasping in pain. All were heavily wrapped in bandages.

  The nurse regarded them with thinned lips. "I hear tell it was a single man what done this to them. That man must be the Devil himself. Broke bones in all four of them. One will most likely lose an eye. And all for what? Because they were protecting a lady's honor."

  "Is that what happened?" Jekyll asked. Only I could hear the nervousness in his voice.

  "Aye. From what I hear, Christopher and his mates were merely on their way to the theatre with his girl when the brute that did this made a rude comment. Christopher tried to get the man to retract it, and what followed led to this."

  "I see.

  If I had been in control, I would have laughed out loud. Such lies to cover the truth of the matter.

  "Well," Jekyll said, "I should like to pay for their treatment."

  The nurse started at him. "You? Why should you pay?"

  "I feel partly responsible. The man who did this is an associate of mine. Not a close associate, but one who is occasionally in my employ. I paid him last night and it seems he had a bit too much to drink. I should have sent him directly home. Please send all the bills to me."

  "Very kind of you, sir, but there's no need. That one's father is paying for it all, and he has no shortage of funds."

  "His father?"

  "Why, yes. That one's Christopher Carew, son of Sir Carew."

  Jekyll shuddered. "Good lord. That's the son of a Minister of Parliament?"

  "Aye. And he's quite disturbed about the situation. Between you and me, he has vowed to seek vengeance on the man who did this. If you are indeed a friend of the man who did this, I would warn him to watch himself. The police are after him and will not rest until they see him behind bars. That assumes, of course, that you are a friend of his, though I can't imagine why."

  The nurse walked away, leaving Jekyll staring down at the four men. I did not need the fluttering to know his thoughts. I shared them now. I had made a grave mistake in attacking these men. An M.P. would not hesitate to seek the man who injured his son. My head was marked now. I would need to be more careful around London.

  Yet I felt comfort in the knowledge that I hid within the safest place possible. As long as I remained Jekyll, no one could find or touch me. If Jekyll was my jailer, he was also my fortress. Perhaps I would return to being Jekyll, after all.

  Jekyll left the hospital and returned home, where he ate a late lunch and tended to some patients. Once afternoon came, he called to Poole and said, "Set out my evening clothes and ready my carriage. I shall be going out to meet with Mrs. Glass within the hour."

  "Very good, sir," said the old man with a bow.

  Jekyll ate and dressed into a fine suit, topping it off it with an ornate cane of some decoration and wealth. He headed out of the front door of the mansion onto the streets of London, where a carriage waited for him. Jekyll climbed into the back of the cab, advising the driver of an address in the wealthier area of London.

  Chapter Six - A Night at the Theatre

  THE HORSE-DRAWN cab trotted through the streets of the city to an elegant mansion on abundant land. Jekyll disembarked and made his way through the front door into the lobby.

  The walls were decorated with various military trophies including weapons, medals, and paintings of gallant military maneuvers throughout history. Some of the paintings showed men in military uniform going back many generations.

  The butler of the house bowed to Jekyll as he said, "Mrs. Glass is not yet ready. The Brigadier General bids you to wait with him in the study."

  "Thank you." Jekyll clasped his hat as he crossed the mansion to step into the study.

  Walls of books and more military trophies awaited Jekyll. An old man sat in an armchair by a roaring fire. His body was frail and thin under a heavy coat and pants, but moved with precision honed by years of military training. He read from a heavy tome, but raised his head at Jekyll's approach. Eyes as sharp as blades regarded Jekyll through a cloud of smoke cast from his pipe.

  "Jekyll," the old man growled around the pipe.

  Jekyll bowed his head. "Good evening, Brigadier General Strong. I trust this night finds you well."

  The general grunted. "As well as can be expected. The war wound is acting up, as it often does before the rain."

  The general set down his book. "Have you given any thought to our last discussion?"

  Jekyll lowered his eyes, regarding the floor. "Yes, I have, general. I'm afraid I cannot join the military. My patients require me here in London."

  "Nonsense. One less doctor in the city will harm nothing. There seem to be plenty of them
as it is."

  The general puffed out a cloud of smoke as he regarded Jekyll. "Perhaps it's your own fear of battle that is the true culprit."

  "I have no such fear. But I am a man of science."

  "Science," the general repeated with scorn. "More like womanliness. I have made no secret of how I feel about your profession, Jekyll."

  Jekyll took a slow breath before he responded. "Yes, general, although I fail to see why my profession should disqualify me from your daughter's hand."

  "That is, in fact, your problem, Jekyll. You see, the Army is more than just a profession. As you know, I am a strong believer in the armed services. I consider it the finest expression of Manhood. It shapes and molds men into a form they could never achieve on their own. It defends and expands the glory of the Kingdom. These are traits to be found in no other profession. It is particularly not to be found in yours, Doctor Jekyll."

  Jekyll's rage could barely be contained as he hissed, "What is it that you find so offensive about my work, General? I am a preserver of life."

  The general shook his head. "You work with powders and chemicals like a girl fretting with her make-up. You've never stained your hands with blood. You've never creased your palms with tools."

  He pointed at Jekyll's hands, now clenched into fists. "I examine the soft palms of your hands and delicate fingers, and behold the hands of a woman, not a man."

  "This is preposterous. Many would see my lack of physical labor as an asset, not a liability. I am in the highest ranks of society. If your concern is for manual labor, perhaps you would care for your daughter to marry one who mucks out stables."

  The general rose to his feet and clasped his hands behind his back. He stood with the fire roaring behind him as he spoke. "Her late husband Rudy was a great man. He would have made general for a certainty, were it not for the ague that took his life in India. He was a strong and noble man."

  "As I have heard. I regret that I had not the benefit of acquainting myself with him before his passing."