Author's Note: Sorry for the wait after the last chapter; especially considering where I left you off ::cringe:: I didn't mean to do that, but I couldn't bring myself to force out this helping. It's an important one, and I didn't want to ruin it. I ask only one thing as you read this… don't kill me…
As with Envenom, I'm too lazy to do shoutouts for this chapter, but thank you all for the reviews for the last chapter! You know I love you for them
This chapter receives a high rating for language, content and violence. You have been warned!
Edward Hyde shook the remains of the shredded shirt from his form, and walked jubilantly away from the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, whistling as he went, the heels of his shoes clicking on the bridge, almost as if they were tapping out a beat for him.
Ah, it felt so good to be without that whelp, Henry; his mind was blissfully free of the nagging presence of such a weak and frail little man. One minute he had been fighting for supremacy… and the next minute it had been his; the victory had been so simple that he almost felt cheated. Of course, one could not call victory simple when it had been years in the making. Henry Jekyll's guilt had chased him from London to Paris, and drove him to join the League.
But it was just the freedom that made him want to sing! Oh, how he wanted to let loose with a jolly tune. And the promise of imminent carnage too! He was surely being spoilt. With a low and throaty chuckle, he looked up at the looming and tottering tripods. There were three of them making their way steadily and somewhat shakily onto the bridge, like babies just finding their legs. Edward found their bumbling amusing, and he even did begin to sing then, a little ditty Henry had once heard in a gathering, and one that Hyde had forever since been amazingly fond of. It spoke of dancing and frolic, and he just felt so liberated to sing it, even though he knew these machines to be dangerous.
What did it matter to him that they were dangerous? Were he not singing, he would have scoffed. It was a ridiculous notion, for Edward Hyde to be frightened of such a concept; death did not intimidate him. Many times he had felt the lingering, icy presence of Death himself, and laughed.
The lead tripod's tentacles flailed like those of a squid below it, and its green glowing face seemed to watch him as he practically trotted towards them, singing as he went.
"You should see me dance the polka," he cheerfully continued, "you should see me cover the ground."
Smoke poured from the other side of the bridge, almost like a hazy screen. Oddly, he felt himself pressed to keep these bastards from the undamaged side of London; where everyone was watching. It was like having an audience! Suddenly, he felt positively jubilant, though he knew his doom awaited him, maw open and teeth flashing.
"You should see my coat tails flying…"
Even as he stood there – no matter how amusing it must have appeared to the observers – he danced a little, continuing his song as he did so, "… As I jump my partner round."
With a cumbersome spin, he waved his arms. "When the band commences playing…"
There was a mechanical whir, and a suspended orb on a cable came out from the body of the tripod, blinking at him almost curiously. It didn't hinder his gaiety, and he just kept on going.
"… My feet begin to go…"
Edward almost wished he had a cane to add to his routine. "… For a rollicking romping polka is the jolliest fun…"
A glow sparked up around Edward as he made to sing the next line; "… I–"
That was when the flames started on his body, and he looked at his hands, even as his shoes melted from below him. He heard the roar; felt the heat… and then collapsed to the ground.
Nemo hung his head slightly, even as Mrs. Harker moved to lunge forward. Sawyer grabbed her immediately about the arms, and pulled her back to him, embracing her tightly as she mumbled angrily and desperately into his shoulder. She even pounded her fist on him once, and though the young American winced, he did not cast her away, simply stroked one hand over her hair, before loosening his grip on her gently.
"Oh god… oh god, it got 'im." Skinner shook his head back and forth, despair lacing his voice. "The heat-device got 'im."
Quatermain sighed, his rifle lowering to his side. He held one in each hand; Sawyer's in his left and his own in his right.
"Then we're dead," Bond mumbled, dabbing at his brow with his handkerchief. "They won't have H-142 ready yet…"
Nemo watched and heard all this, dark eyes filled with sorrow; the only clue to his misery regarding the situation. Over the course of their first mission, the Indian man had come to deeply respect the doctor, and even his brutish alter ego to a degree. Though recently, when Hyde had gotten free of his prison within Jekyll, he had irritated and angered Nemo… he now wished they had tried harder to talk the man out of going.
One of their number had returned… only for them to lose another.
A heap smouldered in the middle of the bridge, a charred form, cinders still cooling around the bulk… before a gleaming eye opened… blinked once, and then narrowed in fury. With a growl, the heap stumbled to its knees, pieces of dead skin crumbling to the ground almost like ash. The clothes were completely gone, but the form was there… there was muscle and sinew, and flesh and bone, no matter how bruised, burned and battered.
And it was furious.
"Wh-why you unspeakable rotter." It snarled angrily, shaking itself once before scrambling to its feet. Either the tripod did not see it, or it did not care enough for this wounded creature to bother with striking again. "That bloody hurt."
With a short roar, Edward Hyde threw himself forward, practically into a gallop, limbs pounding the bridge as he barrelled towards his target. "That bloody hurt, you mincing three-legged…" He cut himself short with a raging bellow, the tripod's heat eye blinking at him, before he slammed like a steam train into one of the legs, making it bend and creak under the pressure.
Grunting, Edward latched on, aching all over but too furious to notice the agony he knew deep in his mind he should be feeling. With a wry laugh, he said, "Yes, that's right." He looked up at the glowing eye as it gazed down amazedly at him. "Shoot me again, you little shit. Without blowing your own foot off."
Laughing again, he continued, "You're in trouble now, aren't you?"
The tripod shifted slightly, but he clung on as if his life depended on it… which, in fact, it did. "I mean… urngh… I mean, I'm no engineer, and correct me if I'm mistaken, but…" He grunted loudly as he gripped tighter; the tripod wiggling again, as if it were trying to shake him loose. "… But don't you have rather a design flaw in these three-legged-things?" Hugging himself close to the limb as a stream of smoke poured from a crack he had caused, he pressed on, "Now, don't get me wrong: God created a lot of useless, stupid-looking creatures on this world too, but he didn't…" He paused to latch tighter, growling again. "… He didn't see fit to make any of them three-legged."
His small, beady eyes looked up into the glowing orb. "Why was that, do you think?"
Whether or not the thing could understand him was not his concern, even as he released the leg long enough to draw back with one mighty fist, and then pound it forward again with the force of a launched anvil. His knuckles smashed into the already-weakened leg, and crumpled it like a frail twig beneath the strength, even as Edward roared out a triumphant laugh. The tripod caved in on itself, the one leg's failure ruining the stability and causing a complete collapse. Metal creaked and screamed as it fell; slamming to the ground like the meteor's that had carried its driver to this planet.
As the debris settled, Hyde stomped forward, chuckling dryly, hearing the small whimpers of the ugly Martian from within. Finding a portal in the large head, he wiped it with one charred hand, and peered, grinning, inside. He saw the hideous creation looking at him with wide, black eyes like a spider, and heard it squeal.
Picking up where he had left off, he dug his hands into the weakened metal; "Because it you can't, this next bit will come as something of a surprise, I'm afraid." And with a groan and a grunt, he heaved, even as more tripods clanged towards him, unnoticed by the gloating alter-ego.
With all his might he pulled and heaved, until the entire panel broke away, and he bellowed in triumph, wondering if the Londoners and the army were enjoying the show. Inside, with all its controls and cogs, wheels and levers, sat the Martian… upside down. Edward laughed, but extended a hand as if to greet the creature.
"Hello, old chap." He grinned, blackened, rotting teeth showing in a fierce, mocking display. "Hello. Welcome to England."
And with that, he grabbed the alien's face, and tore it in half, even as it screeched in agony. In his distraction of destroying – if you could call it that; some would call it devouring – the Martian, he failed to notice the three other tripods coming up behind him, watching the horrific and brutal display of carnage upon one of their kind. Hyde was lost in his own enjoyment of the victory, but he did hear the whine.
Fun while it lasted…
That was the last Edward Hyde remembered before flames shot up all around him, white-hot and intense, scorching everything between the three heat-devices, and obliterating the ruined tripod.
"Oh no…"
She made to start off again, bats screeching in the air nearby as she subconsciously summoned them, hoping Hyde could survive long enough for her to reach him, and give him aide.
But before she could even move, hands were taking a fierce hold of her, and dragging her back. She turned, seeing Tom looking to her. "Mina… no… come on." She fought him, but he wouldn't let go, and she screwed up her face in sorrow, even as she collapsed into his arms in defeat. The bats faded and were gone…
"We… we cannot know what feelings our enemies have…" Nemo began in a quiet voice of horrified awe as the flames crackled and singed. "… But we may be certain; at least, that Hyde taught them terror." And with that, he muttered to himself in his native language. Skinner's frown was deep and melancholy, and he took his trilby from his head, perhaps in a sign of respect.
Allan Quatermain looked to his fellow League members, seeing the loss in them all, and he sighed wearily, patting Tom lightly on the back. There were tears in the young man's bright eyes as he embraced the vampire, one hand on the rear of her head as she lay silently against him. There was no noise from her at all, and she barely moved.
Bond wiped his handkerchief over his face once more as he made an observation, eyes wide and amazed. "And the fallen tripod is blocking the bridge! We've got them trapped!"
Mina heard all of these words, and simply growled quietly, turning her head out of Tom's shoulder to glare fiercely at Bond. If she was going to blame anyone for their friend's death… she would blame him. Without having to be asked, Tom let go of her, perhaps realising that she now knew it useless to try and fly to help Hyde… Hyde was gone. Jekyll was gone. He was gone… she couldn't help him now.
"But at what cost…?" she hissed icily, noticing Bond cowered under her gaze. She was tempted to drive her torment further, growling quietly, but thought better of it; now was not the time. She had to keep her head.
That was when the silence was broken by Tom's cry of pain.
To Be Continued...
