Back by popular demand (and constant peppering by noiseforyoureyes), it is Kieran and Dr. Jekyll!!!

Disclaimer: All hail Robert Louis Stevenson and Valerie Martin! And Frank Wildhorn! We love these people! They give us Jekyll and Hyde! Original and fresh views! All hail! Crap! I realize I totally screwed up the timeline, but I do not care. That is why it is called a fan fiction. Don't hold it against me too much. I do my best.

Note: Short chapter because about halfway through, my Muse flew away and, venturing too near a telephone pole, was electrocuted. Drat.

Chapter Six: Hyde



I continued to float in and out of consciousness. Sometimes I could see, and sometimes I couldn't. I could only sometimes ever form straight thoughts. I probably talked some, nothin' meaningful, but I only remember a couple of conversations I had, and even then only the more coherent ones. I remember faces, floating over me. Mostly it was Mary, but sometimes I saw Dr. Jekyll and the strange blackness that haunted him.

And stranger still than that darkness, I remember hearing screams of pain sometimes, and sounds of stuff breakin'. And I remember one unfamiliar face that came 'round once in a while. It was a dark an' cruel lookin' man. Evil. I was sorta scared of him. In one of me rare coherent moments when Mary was there, I told her about the man.

"Oh aye," she said. "The Master's taken on a young man to help him with his work, he's to be treated in the same regard as the Master himself." She glanced around. "None of us like him really, he's ...not the sort you'd expect to be working with the Master. His name is Mr. Hyde."

I took a moment to think on this, a moment I didn't really have 'cause I was losing me hold on reality again. "Dr. Jekyll's never needed help before, not with his experiments. Why does he need it now?"

Mary shrugged. "Well he is getting older, maybe he needs someone to continue with his experiments should he--God forbid it--die." Sensing I was slippin' back into unconsciousness again, she smiled at me. "Anyway, I don't guess you should be frightened if you see him around. The Master probably has him check on you when he can't come himself."

This was all very strange. But I had little time to think on it, and as I was sucked into the blackness again, I half-grinned at Mary in thanks.

I saw him more often after that, both when I was awake and in my nightmares. Oftentimes, I couldn't tell which was which, and scared me the most. Mr. Hyde seemed to me the very meaning of a nightmare.