A/N: So I've finally finished this story after over 5 years. Yay! 180,000 words and 3 drafts later, I can finally post it. I couldn't add tot he summary that this story is a sequel to the movie, but I changed a detail or two, nothing drastic. This also ties into the comics by adding characters from the comics. Anyway. I hope you like it!
Chapter 1 - Lighting the Fuse
Kenya, Africa: August 9th
The sudden blast of heat shocked Quatermain's system as he sat up in the dry soil, especially considering that his last moments of memory consisted of the deadly cold of Mongolia. Being resurrected from his own grave wasn't something he could have ever imagined happening on an unusually stormy afternoon in Africa, though the clouds were beginning to clear at a rapid pace.
His hand shot across the back of his shoulder, feeling for a wound, but there was nothing. It only served to add to his confusion. He fumbled to his feet, holding onto the earthy walls for support.
"Well done, Zikali."
"Thank you, my Queen."
Quatermain strained to look past the sun and to a woman and a man stood in front of his grave, watching as he dragged himself up. It seemed these two unusual people had dug him out as only a thin layer of dust remained over the top of him and the lid to his coffin was removed. Yet there was no shovel in sight. He shook his head to dispel some of his fuzzy confusion; none of this made any sense to him.
Then it began to click into place. He found himself recognising the man and woman. If Quatermain was correct, the storm that was easing overhead had caused his revival, especially as there was a very large mound of charred soil piled around the grave. He recognised the man as Zikali, the powerful and yet feared witch doctor. He was the one who had told Quatermain Africa would not allow him to die. He was right, for there Quatermain was- alive as ever.
The woman's name was Ayesha, or quite literally 'She' as her Native African people tended to call her. This mysterious white queen had many gifts and powers. Her white dress glowed in the heat. There was an exotic beauty to her face and her hair, the strands brown, wavy, and long. She looked like a normal woman at first glance. But scratch the surface she was far more dangerous and powerful than perhaps any living being. Her beauty could entrance entire armies into being frozen on the spot. Quatermain had seen the entire event roll out in front of his very eyes many years ago.
Yet Allan did not become trapped in her web. He had once gone to her several years earlier, hoping he would be able to communicate with his recently lost son. She may have mesmerized others with her appearance, but he always managed to keep his wits. Although he tended to assume that it was his stubbornness that saved him.
Still, she was a force to be reckoned with and a great ally. He gave a bow but had no time to speak.
"Macumazahn… Still doubtful over our powers?" she smiled warmly. He wiped the mud from his tongue but only succeeded in making the taste worse.
"Well, I suppose not," he replied, amused by her greeting. Quatermain tried to climb out of his grave, but his boots could find no grip.
"Zikali, could you give me a hand up?" Zikali and Ayesha crouched down near the hole, reaching down. Quatermain was surprised to see Ayesha helping him. With a quick tug, he managed to get high enough to scramble out.
Now on his feet, he dusted himself off. "Thank you, although I expect there is a reason as to why I am here?" he mused.
Ayesha looked down. That was all the confirmation he needed to know. "The League needs your help," she admitted. He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head in curiosity. Why would Ayesha and Zikali be concerned with such matters?
"How exactly? What has happened?" he asked.
"It is not what has happened, it is what will happen. Take my hand and I will show you what is to transpire very soon," she instructed.
Quatermain hesitated and frowned in confusion. She kept her hand outstretched expectantly.
"Trust me," she smiled. Quatermain saw Zikali give him a discreet nod of reassurance. The hunter hesitated for a moment more but finally did as he was asked. He took her hand in his.
His vision immediately went black. An image began to crawl out of the darkness and grow in clarity. It was exactly what she said she would do. Ayesha was showing him what happened, letting images, sounds, and emotions melt together; as if revealing it all through a dream…
Onboard the Nautilus, North Atlantic Ocean: August 28th
A stranger sauntered along the empty corridors of the Nautilus. Quatermain found it odd that the lights were not switched on in the ship. The man was dressed up like a real gentleman, monocle and all. His top hat shadowed his face, although some details were visible. He crept along the long corridor, springing like a gazelle and crossing into a room in complete silence. His behaviour was confident and casual as if the entire trip through the Nautilus was an amusing game. Who was he?
Quatermain's stomach lurched as a realisation hit him. The room he had entered was Dr Jekyll's. He prayed that the man wasn't after what he thought...
Inside Jekyll's room, the man looked around. As he moved his head, his monocle managed to reflect a stray speck of light. The weak flickering light showed the bottom left side of his grinning face. His skin was soft and shaven, with barely a wrinkle in sight to suggest excessive time working outdoors or great age. This man was only around thirty.
The man knew what he was looking for. He searched with a noticeable degree of skill. Whatever he moved was put back in its exact place. There was not even a sign that he had been there. He went over to Jekyll's empty bed and looked underneath. There it was, the box that contained bottles of chaos: Jekyll's potion.
"Pas de serrure," he muttered, opening it.
There sat row upon row of vials, all in their individual places. The man took four out, pocketing them, and put the box back under the bed. He reappeared from the room a few moments later. The glass clinked in his pocket; it was like they were crying out for help. He took them out and held them in his hand to silence them.
Quatermain's worst fears had been confirmed, filling him with dread. He knew too well the potential danger those vials contained.
The stranger pricked up his ears and looked down the corridor. He'd been spotted and took off at a run. Dr Henry Jekyll could see what he carried and didn't hesitate in chasing after him, yelling at him to stop.
The monocled man turned a corner and met two other men in a small shadowed corridor. The second man wore similar clothes to the first but looked far, far paler than the others. An albino perhaps? The third looked like a distorted shadow with him not being in the light. Quatermain was sure he was wearing a mask of sorts.
"Rapidement!" the monocled man ordered, handing over his prizes.
"À votre santè," the second man remarked.
Without hesitation, the two men drank two bottles each, one dose of formula after another. After a second, they both roared in pain. The transformation had begun.
"À la vôtre," the monocled man murmured, almost with a wince, stepping back.
Muscles grew and skin stretched across their bodies, unevenly and gruesomely. Their clothes shredded as their mass continued to expand at an accelerated rate. There were painful sounds of bones twisting and shifting as they grew. After plenty of jolts and jumps and an infinite amount of screaming and yelling... the gruesome transformation was complete.
One of their transformations into a monster looked quite normal for a Hyde, albeit one who took an excessive amount of formula. Its skin was blood red and stuffed full of bulging muscles. Twisted and distorted by the alterations, the man's face was beyond recognition- as was the rest of his enormous body. He was almost twice the size of Edward Hyde's usual appearance so most of his clothes were in unrecognisable rags. The second man, the one with paler skin, looked unusual. His body was exactly the same size as the other creature and equally disfigured, but his skin was very pale, almost blue.
"You both look terribly handsome," the monocled and unaltered man muttered with a smirk. At first, Quatermain didn't understand why they now spoke English, not until he saw their lips didn't follow their words. Was Ayesha managing to translate it for him as well?
"I would watch your tongue when I am in such a powerful body, Lupin. It may prove vital for your health," growled the red Hyde.
"Quiet, both of you. Someone is coming," the paler Hyde hushed in a deep, gruff voice.
Dr Jekyll appeared after the transformation was complete, struggling for breath after the pursuit. He peered around the corner. The man and two creatures turned to look at him. One of the monsters gritted his teeth in annoyance and threw a fist at the doctor.
With almost no time to react, Jekyll gasped and threw himself back as a red fist plummeted towards him. The punch missed and slammed into the wall beside him. Before the creature could take a second swing, Jekyll was up and running down the hall in the opposite direction.
He hurried back to his room. He grabbed his box of vials and threw it open on the bed. Snatching up a vial of formula. Jekyll tried to catch his breath from running so hard for so long. In his own body, he wasn't the strongest nor did he possess the greatest endurance. His mind and knowledge had always been his strengths but what use did they have in such a situation?
He could hear booms and bangs as the three men followed in pursuit. Jekyll gulped. He was outnumbered. Even if he let Hyde out these two monsters couldn't be defeated alone but he didn't have much of a choice- he needed to hurry!
Jekyll pulled out the cork and was about to gulp the formula down, but a large hand grabbed him out of the room, launching him into a wall. The doctor hit the surface with a teeth-shattering force before dropping to the ground. He did not move after that.