Ugh, I'm a horrible person and haven't updated this for-freaking-ever. Part of that is because I got involved with a couple'a new fics, and part is because I forgot where I was going. Again. But since I like this story so much, I think I'll work on an update. NOTE: This chapter seems really, really, contrived. I already know this. It's fiction, people, work with me. This is why I'm not a real author.

Chapter Eight: Ill met

'Twas strange, how it happened, really, and not at all how I used to wish I'd see me mum again. When I was younger, I used to dream about meetin' up with me parents again. Me da would be tall, and strong, and proud o' me for gettin' along like I had, and me mum would be sweet, beautiful, and would take care of me. Lovin' me like I'd never been loved afore.

I know I said earlier that I didn't remember me parents at all, but that tain't entirely true. I remember some things–I remember me mum's face, I remember her eyes, but most of all, I remember a gold locket that she wore around her neck, a gold locket on a very unique silver chain. I don't remember me da at all, and why should I? Most men I know turn out to be drunkards, wife-beaters, an' generally lazy bums. Well, only men in my class. Unless highborn noblemen are all those things, only can hide 'em better than the poor folk. But Dr. Jekyll didn't seem like that at all.

Shortly after Mary got back from helpin' t'bury her mum, Dr. Jekyll had a chore for her, one, he said, that twasn't pleasant. He needed Mary to go to a rough part of town–rougher than most–and take care of some business in a less-than-questionable place. He sent me along for "protection," although I was scrawny enough the most I could do in a fight was get in the way.

So Mary an' I headed out through the narrow, filth lined streets o' London. We kept silent most of the way, despite being together we still felt uneasy and alone. We walked close to each other, heads down, coats wrapped tightly around ourselves. We ducked away from any who mighta come too close, or any whose grin was a little too leery.

The address we came to didn't make sense. I'd 'eard of this place, it was an 'horehouse. Surely Dr. Jekyll couldn't have any business in 'ere? I said as much to Mary, who bit her lip and shook her head. We stood there for a while, checking the address. I decided the only business the good doctor could have in such a stodgy place was to help the ladies within–he was a doctor, after all.

Mary and I went inside and talked to the owner of the brothel. I don't remember her name as well as I ought to...'cause what happened next shocked and hurt me so bad.

Normally I wouldn'ta been allowed to go to any o' the rooms, and that was fine by me, but Mary asked me to come along. So I did. We walked up the stairs, I jammed my cap onto my head as far as it would go, trying to hide my face. I couldn't wait to get out of the place. Stepping into a small room, Mary and I gasped loudly as we caught sight o' the place.

There was blood–everywhere. On the floor, on the walls, even on the ceiling. In some places I couldn't tell what color the wall was underneath the crimson staining of blood.

But that wasn't the worst part. The body...there was a body on the bed. It was covered with a sheet, but blood stained through. Mary looked as though she were going to be sick. I didn't feel much better. Mary started talking to the owner, but I didn't hear what they were saying.

The corpse's hand snaked out from under the sheet, and clenched tightly in its cold, white fist, was a silver chain, as distinctive as my mum's.

I yelped and ran to the bed, totally forgetting where I was and what I was dealing with. I pulled the sheet away from the corpse's face. I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think.

It was me mum, it was. How...how she had gotten here...and I was so close to her the whole time...and why in this place? Why did she have to be here? Why couldn't she have found other work?

I was vaguely aware of Mary pulling me back. I snatched the chain from me mum's lifeless hand and raced out of the damn place. I couldn't be in there anymore. The walls were closing in on me.

I half sat, half collapsed in the alleyway. Mary came out shortly after, carrying a sealed letter addressed to Dr. Jekyll. She stood over me for a while, not saying anythin', though I could tell she was burnin' with curiosity.

I pulled myself up and we trudged home. Halfway there, the inevitable question came out.

"Kieran...did you know that woman?" Mary's voice was quiet, cautious. She didn't want to hurt me, I think.

I nodded slowly. "I think–I mean, she was me mum. I...this chain was hers," I told her, holding up the silver trinket. "I know it was, she'd never 'ave sold it, and it was the only one like it in all'o England. And...that was her face. That was her." I swallowed hard, couldn't 'ave said anymore if I'd wanted to.

Mary nodded sympathetically and touched my shoulder briefly. That was all we said, the whole way back to Dr. Jekyll's house.

We had to report to Dr. Jekyll when we got back, an' anyway, we had the letter to give him too. Mr. Poole told us to wait in the library, so we did. I tried to be sneaky in findin' a book to read, if Mr. Poole saw me readin'...well. None of the books I saw looked any good to me, though. I surely wasn't in the mood to read any science books. Oh well.

Mary and I both started as the door opened with a bang. In limped a short, stout young man with greasy brown hair. This had to be Mr. Hyde. I tried not to shudder. The man was creepy. He had a vicious, sadistic expression in his brown eyes, and a permanent smirk on his face.

"You had a letter?" he snarled.

Mary nodded nervously and handed him the sealed paper. He ripped it open.

"Wait!" I cried, before I could stop myself. Those horrible eyes turned from the letter to me. I bit my lip. "It...it was addressed to Dr. Jekyll..." I explained.

"As I am his assistant, I have no doubt that he will not mind in the slightest. Especially since this particular matter concerned the good doctor as well as myself," Hyde sneered. "You are both dismissed."

Mary and I looked at each other. Dismissed from what, from the room, or from Dr. Jekyll's service altogether? And how to ask without offending Mr. Hyde?

"Well?" Hyde growled. "Get out! If you don't like the idea of spending the day with nothing to do, ask Poole! Surely he has chores for you."

Well that answered our question. Mary and I scurried from the library, I was too scared to even snag a book on my way out, but I did manage to look once more at Mr. Hyde. He was watching me, his eyes dark with a strange expression. He grinned slowly, one of the most terrifying sights I've ever seen, and winked.

It was then I caught sight of his hands. They were stained with blood, and in his grasp I caught sight of a gold locket.

Me mum's locket.