AN- Yes, I know, sorry for the lateness as always…

AN- Yes, I know, sorry for the lateness as always….all I can do is apologize and give you more at intervals. Hope you like it. As always, I do not own this character, a genius does, and...yeah, I 've explained about my trouble slotting dates in just so you remember, so it might look out of place, but it's not. There we are.

14th March
1895

With my few possessions, it was not a hard task to travel through Paris- my cab driver was helpful to me and I asked him for cheap accommodation, which he informed me could be found in the Rue Morgue- perhaps a rather ominous sign I would rather not dwell upon…

We arrived in a dingy sort of area and being fluent in French it was easy enough for me to acquire an apartment, of which mine was located on the second floor of an old block. I sat for a while in front of my wide window, glancing every now and then from the peeling paint on the frame out into the City and waiting for the sun to come up as I thought over my predicament…so much has happened, but I have no idea what could happen now I am in another country altogether…

I hate to admit also that I had to make a most hasty trip to a nearby chemist- the need for the elixir was tantamount and I grew so restless without knowing I had it or enough ingredients to make more that I had to procure more. Setting about making more of it distracted me for a good while of the day before I finally succumbed to sleep this afternoon.

When I woke I was not at all refreshed, nor was I hungry, with the exception of a thirst for my formula. No sooner had I changed form than Hyde was out on the winding little streets of Paris- he has been out more since I arrived- and headed straight for the Bohemian central of Montmartre, where the performers live and crowd and gentlemen of every nation wander through the nightclubs or with the women who walk the streets there.

This he did, lingering outside one so called the 'Chat Noir', where he took the services of a woman- I know she would have sent him on his way had he not had the money to pay her with…if she had, she might still be alive. But then, there was no choice for her in the beginning…

17th March
1895

Unlike Edward, I am not enjoying my time in France. I can swear upon the grave of my father that he has gotten taller, grown again. This night he committed a terrible crime- the murder of another young lady as well as a poor child who witnessed the entire affair…and though these acts sicken me to the core the damned elixir is an addiction I just cannot stop…

28th July
1895

I have been taken ill of late, my attempt to restrain the use of the terrible concoction I have invented- I have been too weak even to write for months, with the kindness of the landlady the only thing which has saved me from death. Whether this is a positive thing I cannot yet decide….my strength slowly returns to me- as I write this I am sat by the large window again, the landlady has just left me. As I watch the people wander up and down the street below me I feel that stirring inside me…and I have noticed something else, more distressing which runs cold right through me.

As I glanced over a nearby mirror, I saw for a moment my hideous alter ego rather than my own, pale reflection, leering at me, and then he was gone.

1st August
1895

With my health returning, but not yet in tact, it was child's play really for Edward- as he call's himself, and I have learnt to name him- to force his way into my consciousness again while I was forced into the depths of my own mind, where he usually hovers at ever waking moment.

He trawled his way through Montmartre- his shadow is now cast across the brown cobblestones as tall as mine is- and found his way back to the awful, brash Parisian bars and brothels he had discovered so gleefully on arrival. This time however it was a group of men who met their downfall at his murderous hands- a group, dare I ask you!

Sailors, four of them, drunk and rowdy and looking to pick a fight with the brute, who was himself in quite a stupor. However, he merely laughed at their challenge, their band a rougher looking crowd than I have ever seen before, even in London's docks. Out in the street, for it was in this tavern that they set to pick a fight- they accosted him, misled into thinking they could outnumber him. The first and apparent leader of the gang had pulled out a knife, but his neck was broken in a matter of minutes, and his large form discarded to the side in the manner of a child bored with a doll- but I knew the rush which ran through my monster as he took the second, grinning and smashed him against the nearby wall- a horrific scene I witnessed.

The smartest of the group proved to be the one who turned tail and fled into the smoky night, leaving Hyde to maim the remaining man-to have left him alive was no mercy compared with what became of him.

6th August
1895

Returned to the Rue Morgue- resulting in yet another attack on a woman, though her female companion was lucky enough to escape Hyde with just a fractured arm. This is fast becoming a timeline of murder and torture…

8th August
1895

The Surveiller des officiers have finally taken to the streets in pursuit of Edward Hyde, but their search is in vain. It is only for the risk of capture that he has allowed me to lock myself in my apartment as I watch these uniformed men haunt the street below.

A sharp rapping at the door followed, giving me quite a start, as well as shouting in French- ''Ouvrir, Police!'' My fingers fumbled with the catch after some hesitation as to whether or not I should answer- the hard faced young officer at the door interrogated me and I thanked Heaven there was no language barrier…I told him that I knew nothing of the culprit described and after at least ten more minutes he finally let me alone back into the dark apartment I had acquired.

12th August
1895

French policemen still search the streets for the tall, frightening man reported by a Mademoiselle L'espaye, who was injured by him that night. I still do not dare to venture out, even as myself, but it keeps Hyde at bay.

14th August
1895

By now it was becoming far too much for me- the cold chills, unable to think plainly of anything but the bitter elixir and its burning sensation within me- as anxious as ever was I that I finally downed a phial and gave in, even as the investigation goes on.

It is fearful how such a primal beast can think and speak so eloquently as myself- but Hyde has ventured to the completely opposite side of Montmartre to a club which I cannot recall the name of. He also provided payment to a woman rather than anything else, but as the bloodlust returned I am afraid to say that I blacked out.

It was only when I woke the next morning in that strangers bed to find her lifeless next to me, eyes wide and glassy; she looked much like a broken toy if not for the look of terror upon her face and her spilt blood which stained us both- I have never dressed quite so swiftly and retreated to my lodgings faster than if I had committed the murder with my very own hands…although I suppose, if one thinks about it logically…I had?

To Be Continued…