Transformations
by Dragonfriend

            I can feel him. I've lived here in hibernation for…Satan only knows how long. I can't surface in him yet, but for the first time in so many years I'm close.

            So damn close!

            All he has to do is inject himself with that damned formula of his. What does he call it, again? Oh yes, his HJ7. I always thought that was funny. He either named it after himself using his initials, or he somehow knows I'm here.

            Soon, Doctor Henry Jekyll, soon your body will be in my possession. And there's no telling what I might do in your body. I could…kill a man! Become your avenging angel. I could take every dark, twisted thing you've ever thought and turn it into a reality.

            And you would have to live with that.

            You wouldn't like it, I would imagine, but I find the concept to be most appealing. And it all came from that little idea you had. Yes, brilliant idea, Dr. Jekyll. Separate the good and evil in a man…and turn it into your own private nightmare that no one will know about other than you. No one will know the horrors I'll make you face when you let me out. I find I'm enjoying the idea more an more. I would laugh, if it was possible. But I have no mouth to laugh with. Hmm. A new experience for me.

            Any emotions I have felt, I felt through HIM! I want to feel for myself. I want to feel the thrill of a kiss, to feel the wind blow through my hair, the thrill of blood on my hands, everything I have only been able to feel through the sensations of being trapped inside a scientist.

            Before I know what's happening, I feel a cold sensation pour through my pathetic host. Wait a moment…he HAS injected himself with the formula! Yes! In a few moments, I will be free. Yes… And then…

            Then there…

            Then there was light!

            I can see! Quickly, I glance around the entire room, to see things for myself for once. Ah yes. The stench of chemicals is everywhere.

            Glorious.

            Suddenly, my eyes fall upon the journal on a table, a pen leaning across it. Hesitantly, I cross over to it and read the entries. The last one was made about two minutes ago. I listen carefully. Four bells. Four o'clock. The entries are written in a beautiful script, the careful, gliding handwriting of Henry Jekyll. I spot the pen and begin to reach for it with my right hand.

            Wait a minute. I'm LEFT handed, idiot. I grab the pen with my left hand and begin to write, my handwriting jerky, deceptive, not like the script of Henry Jekyll. As I write, I read the entry out loud.

            "Four o'clock," I say, my voice sounding wonderfully harsh in my ears, "and all's well." I laugh and drop the pen, laughing hysterically.

            I… am… FREE!

___________

Now it's time for the wonderful author's note, ladies and gentlemen! ::giggle:: Jekyll & Hyde is technically the property of Robert Louis Stevenson, but this story is based off the musical by Frank Wildhorn. (I use his name here only because he did the hard part of writing the music. The lyrics tend to be easy…) POV of Hyde! He seems to be such an underused person, you know?