Jekyll and Hyde. The Early Years.
Prologue. A Father's sins, passed unto the son.
To properly tell this story, I have to begin with my father. Now my father was called many things in his life. Eccentric, an explorer, an innovator, sometimes even a Savior. That was before he started work on his "Concoction" that would soon curse his lineage had greater things in mind though, he was working for the good of all man, a potion that would give longevity to mankind, cure illnesses, create good where there was none for a decades. He had the best for everyone in mind. He should never have taken it himself before he tested it thoroughly. My stupid father. They never knew what he was really like. True he was a gentleman, but behind closed doors he was far from it. I seem to remember his psychotic tendancies better than most. As I was an illegitamate child of his, he recieved news of me prior to his death. Four months to be exact, we lived together in what seemed bliss as I was rather young at the time. He managed to shatter that bliss with his addiction. When he died that's when my nightmare truly begins.
Chapter One. The devil dances by the pale moonlight.
It's not easy you know, being this... "Thing." Well living with this thing anyway. Day in, day out. Never knowing when the blackouts happen and what sights will behold me when I come too. Bad things happen when I black out. The earliest I can remember was my father, Dr. Jekyll. As I was homeschooled by father, I was rather lonely, he me a rabbit for my birthday, I was so happy. I called him Geoffrey. I loved that rabbit so much, and I never parted from him. I was sitting merrily with geoffrey, working quietly, when all of a sudden my head starts to hurt. I think nothing of it, and simply play it off as needing some water. But as I got up the head ache started pulsating throughout my body. I stood frozen inplace as I felt my whole body for lack of a better word, changing. It felt like my skin was crawling, I desperately tried stopping the flow of whatever it was, from reaching anywhere further up my body. I could see my skin was writhing, and my nails were bleeding from the scratching, Blood was overflowing from my teeth and I could feel my life ebbing away. As I began to fall asleep, I can remember flashes of whatever I did that day. I remember using a book to smash something, there was too much blood to recognise what it was. Smeering whatever it was i crushed on the walls spelling something, I can't quite pick out what it was I wrote on that wall. I also remember running at ym father as fast as my legs would take me, but the look on his face, was it remorse? sadness? rage? I can't quite remember. But when I awoke I was tied to my bed, fear setting in from the situation I was in. The bed laid parallel to the wall so I could see who was coming in whenever. I managed to wriggle free from the bed itself and sneak to the door and looked through the keyhole, to see my father with cleaning products, desperately scrubbing the wall with anything and everything to get rid of what I wrote on the wall. I could make out th eletters, Y, D and E and it ended with RETURN. I had no idea what this meant but as I looked down next to my father I could make out what I thought to be a red rag on the floor. As my eyes focused on what it was prior to the event. The sudden realisation hit me and it was Goffrey, my Geoffrey, I had killed him. With my bare hands, and the aid of a book , but still. A child managing so readily taking a life, without knowledge of it actually happening. Am I a monster? Ofcourse. I've killed. But I'm a child. They'll come after me. Come to take me away. To take me apart and see what makes me tick. These thought races through my mind, my young, traumatised mind, fragile mind. Shattered that day. That's the day. That I was first aquainted with Hyde.