East London Docks, 1899
We descended a long iron staircase that led the seven of us out of Dorian's loft and out into the fresh, breezy salted air of the East London Docks. The night was gloomy and the water was suspiciously calm…and yet, I felt an aura of misgiving in the hours of darkness….
"So…what's the next port of call?" Mr. Gray spoke with an eminence of phony.
As I followed Mr. Skinner down the stairway, watching my step (for it was quite the steep stairwell) whilst listening to the shady conversation of the league. I still could not help but feel suspicious about each and every member of the league, especially Mr. Gray. And yet, I did not feel any need to do something about it. My purpose in this endeavor is to merely follow the orders of our mysterious superior M; to stop this Fantom from spreading his chaos and starting his warfare. My curiosity travels to what, exactly, did our other members have in mind…
"Paris…just one last member to recruit." Nemo spoke, waking me of my trance.
I wonder who this new recruit was, exactly…
Mr. Quatermain continued. "Capture is more the word…and it will be quite the hunt."
Oh, that Mr. Q! His mind always wanders to the brutality of life! And yet…his choice of words caught me to wander to strange and curious thoughts.
"You make him sound like some kind of animal." Mina said. Oh, even she chooses her mind to wander!
I, myself know perfectly what it feels to be hunted; to be the prey. I can tell it will be a most interesting meeting with this, as I quote Mrs. Harker, this 'animal'. How dare she call such a recruit, however much they deserve it. I say, Mrs. Harker and Mr. Quatermain should be soul mates by the way they think alike; they way they cause my thoughts to react! Good God, I am sickened of this league!
I am ashamed to say at this moment I feel my sight to lighten.
"Oh, and speaking thus, Mrs. Harker…you're conduct, uh…a moment ago?" Mr. Q suggested.
Ah, I see a quarrel arising between these two? If only they could put aside their differences and realize their true potential!
A-ha, does my mind roam!
"Indeed. We are all aquiver with curiosity." I was distracted enough to realize we had reached the bottom of the stairs. I slightly jumped with fright as Mr. Skinner whizzed past me and up to Mina, as he offered his state of mind.
And then she spoke:
"Well…my husband was Jonathan Harker. Together with a professor named Van Helsing we fought a dangerous evil. It had a name; Dracula; he was Transylvanian."
Ah, and so I finally realize where it was she had been familiar! The name Van Helsing does ring that bell! I remember reading an outlandish article within the London Times quite a while ago—years! That had to do with her story of defeating this vampire disruption!
"Mmm…European? One of those radicals the newspapers love to report on?"
Where was Mr. Skinner going with his consideration? I say, at times he may simply say things for the spite!
"I don't know, Mr. Skinner…" Mrs. Harker turned to face us—her neck, Oh dear Lord, may I pray not to be sickened—she revealed to us two puncture marks! I had sucked in my breath to hold my condition. The darkness that surrounded us all thankfully hid my expression. I was, after all, behind the rest of the league. I do not believe I could imagine what would happen if Mrs. Harker had noticed my fear.
"Is the vampiric sucking of people's blood radical behavior?"
And he fell silent, pray God. I fear Mrs. Harker's nature will stand within the way of many things for myself. I was, for lack of better words, fearful for my sake.
Mrs. Harker pulled up her collar to hide her marks as I began to hear a peculiar noise. My vision had been lightening hastily as the Capitan claimed to recall the noise as his own; he spoke,
"Ah…our transportation is forthcoming."
Where was this vessel of his? I heard the noise but I could not decipher within the fog where the boat was hidden. I reclaimed the conversation beforehand as my eyes wandered around the docks for our transport.
"A boat?" spoke our Agent Sawyer.
"It travels on water, if that's what you mean…and beneath it." spoke the Captain, as our strange noise grew louder.
Pray to the lord of what happened next.
Beneath our very own Captain Nemo—yes—for the Captain was indeed the once time terror of the seas—rose what I believed, at that moment, was to be the Nautilus, in which I soon realized the name of our mysterious Captain.
And dear Lord was I terrified of that ship.
It rose, slowly, moaning as cascades of waterfalls ran down its metal sides. It never stopped to rise behind our Captain and in front of my very own eyes—it towered above us all—oh, I could not contemplate this very scene to write down—it had been just so horrid.
"Woah…" I could hear our American agent mumble.
I had hastily backed away from the dreadful thing, bumping into Mr. Skinner. He caught me with surprise, and then returned his gaze back to the Nautilus.
And yet, I could not. I had to look away.
"Behold; Nautilus—the sword of the ocean!" I heard Nemo shout above the impeccable groans of his ship.
"Next stop, Paris!" he shouted.
Right at that moment, the metal doors of the Nautilus slowly descended for us, and the league entered. I, as one could only imagine, entered last, due to my utter fright for the vessel…and its occupants. The insides were glorious, pray tell, however it was not enough to lessen my excitement. Ishmael, the man I had seen before in the Captain's "automobile", greeted us and brought to us a tour of this established craft. I followed the league, which lessened as Ishmael brought us each a cabin to reside in for the time being. We were all quite close to each other; my cabin was simply a few doors down from Mrs. Harker's (I believe I cannot stand the injustice any longer). But, as I was forced to enter by my own betraying will, I found it uneasy. The room was well furnished with a bed, vanity, bookshelf, table and such…but I did not know what to do! In the corner of my eye I noticed my bags lying on the bed, and wondered who the last to touch my things was, and could not think of it. I stood there, uneasily, as my door was closed without warning and sounds of people continuing on were heard.
I was left here, alone, in a room I have never been in before. What was I to do? And so, I quickly remembered we were on our way to Paris to recruit our last member. Who was he; yet again…and why did Mr. Quatermain and Mrs. Harker refer to them as "an animal" and one to "hunt"? And…when we reached the country of France, when shall I know? Am I supposed to know? Will someone inform me?
I was aboard the Nautilus—our very own Captain Nemo's house of terror. One could only imagine my fright, could they not? I was bound to explore this ship—I could not plainly sit here and wait for our arrival. I was not to sit here and do nothing, wasting my precious time of waiting for danger to arrive. And yet, when it does, will I be ready? What I did at Mr. Gray's loft could not have easily swept my thoughts aside for any expectations. And so, for a few hours, I trained my mind to protect. I trained my…extraordinary ability.
I closed my eyes…thought of my lights slowly growing and filling my entire soul with security…and yet, when I opened my eyes, I could see no light, but only the picturesque cabin scene before me. I believe in only a time of danger does my light turn on, and so I felt that I might as well save my energy for when that time comes, and instead look to the vessel for further inspiration.
I slowly opened that door and the unfamiliar white tiled walls gleaming with lights and beautifully woven rugs and vases of flowers, surrounded by windows to see out into the open ocean skies and my anxiety, for a moment, seemed to respite. But yet it came back—the frightening thought of being all alone once again, in this big…this…this big white house with all strangers wanting to create harm…I can see it in their eyes; the mischief! If only I knew of what I was capable of…I…I, oh if only I knew! I could have done so much! I shut my door and wailed across the hall to its other side—I couldn't help myself but hug the tiled wall and bury my head I was so ashamed of myself…
It was the past all over again, and I had fallen into all their traps for setting me up, and I just never thought…I promised myself to never again…
Oh, but I digress…I needed to pull myself together to hope, and yet there isn't any. I just know there isn't. And no matter what anyone can do nothing, and I mean nothing can have me forget that.
But I continued on, past the walls, past the windows and lights, until I knew for sure that I crept aboard the Nautilus to venture its discovery. I came across to what I believed was an engine room, for as I opened the door I found several noisy machines and several Indian crewmen paying attention my way—and hastily, and to my surprise with amuse, I scurried on away from the trouble. I couldn't help but…but to laugh at those faces of the Captain's men—oh, how they were surprised to see me standing there in the doorway, watching all that machinery do its job…and thought it best for my health to explore some more. It had been almost an hour, and ending by exploration by retreating to my cabin I jumped at a noise. It was in fact a roar of some sort…I rushed inside my room and found everything to be shaking marvelously at a loud, brutal sound that echoes the walls. I was amused, yes, after my exciting discovery of this vessel, but this brutality shocks me into nervousness once again. What was this stimulating racket? I followed it, nevertheless…and although it may seem strange for my character to follow the very danger but my mood at that moment was so up for an adventure I could not help myself. Had we docked and caught our recruit already? When did this happen? Why wasn't I notified? I scurried through the halls, needing to lift my skirts and ignore my subconscious screaming to my thoughts to stop in my tracks, knowing that danger lied ahead but I was sick of standing behind and watching everyone else fight for what is right. I am sick of fleeing of everything I come across and I am absolutely sick of being killed by curiosity. I ran to the havoc—I ran to meet our new recruit, if that is exactly what I was running to—and I ended up running down a chilled hallway in which the sound had echoed the most, and I figured it to be the room where the Captain chilled all his fish for serving. Strange place to stash a person, however, when I entered that room—yet, when I ran through that room I stopped once sight of this beast.
A beast he very much was—he was great in size, horrendous looking, pacing the room in a mischievous manner, and yet I could not take my eyes of his. His bulging, bloodshot, yet deeply soft eyes surveyed the room. The beast was pretentious! It eyed us all, one by one, staring at each and every one of us with an ill-behaved grin upon its face…and to one's surprise…I was not entirely afraid of this monster. There was something about him…something very frightening…that was not frightening at all.
I heard a shift of air come my way as I turned my head to see Mrs. Harker, Mr. Gray and Mr. Skinner arrive. Mr. Quatermain, who I'd, failed to notice before, spoke with a witty manner to us all,
"Stay back…if you value your life!"
"I beg your pardon, Mr. Quatermain? The…recruit seems harmless!"
Had…had I just said that?
"Why, Ms. Blair…I beg to differ." Mr. Quatermain chuckled. "This beast is liable of a great deal havoc."
"Who here isn't?"
I honestly did not know what had caused me to react this way.
Mr. Quatermain fell silent.
I had felt a pat on my back, and as I turned, I saw Mr. Skinner move forward with curiosity alongside Mr. Gray. And then, Mr. Skinner fell from our brute's force! In response, I noticed at the corner of my eye Mr. Allan Quatermain send me a smirk. And Mr. Gray, in sheer ennui, helped Mr. Skinner up and caused him to reply,
"OW! …You scratched me!"
How curious. How did Mr. Gray's soft fingernails scratch so hard through the harder leather fabric of Mr. Skinner's gloves?
"Better me than him," Mr. Gray cleverly responded. And even so as harmful did this beast seem, I could not help but feel sorry for him—being all chained up as he was—the brute had chains on his hands, feet and body…threatened with spears of the Captain's men! And yet, he swung his arms round and round, knocking them out of their menacing actions! He was only doing so due to their events, and so he reacts this way! As I have mentioned before I know what it is like behind the tough skin, behind the crazed mind, behind the bulging eyes and raging attitude…I would say this beast and I have much in common.
"Well…this is nice." said Mr. Gray, eyeing the wreaking havoc of our beast.
"Mr. Hyde…you've done terrible things in England." Mr. Quatermain started.
And yet…Mr. Hyde? Oh, no…it could not be! I know of this beast! I know of this beast very much!
"Edward…?" I whispered, out of my subconscious. Once I had done so, I must say I jolted at the very thought of my saying so. Thank the Lord no one heard me. At least…at least I do not imagine.
Mr. Quatermain continued…
"So terrible that you fled the country!"
Oh, Edward…
"And I'm ashamed to say that Her Majesty's government…"
Edward Hyde…is our brute….
"Is willing to offer you…"
And it's all coming back to me…
"amnesty!"
Of everything back then…
I've learned of a lot of unusual stories in my lifetime. Being in the home taught me a basis for many things…I was able to open my eyes to the many splendid things this life has to offer. Discussion throughout the home had spread much information—the story of Mr. Griffin, Van Helsing, Mr. Hyde…it all obviously spreads throughout the home. Of course, stories such as that should be able to make its way to all us occupants. I have heard a great deal of Mr. Hyde; the brute was able to make his way in many newspapers during the time. Perhaps then, I can be extraordinary after all…to be categorized with all the stories, I am proud to be a part of it all.
"Do you want to go home?"
Mr. Hyde spoke:
"Home; home's where the heart is, that's what they say. And I have been missing London so. Its sorrow is as sweet to me as a rare wine…" he said. He then stopped for a moment, and spoke,
"I'm yours…" I must say I was shocked to hear such words…then mesmerized to follow Mr. Hyde's gaze to the very discomfited, very stunned eyes of Mrs. Harker! My…I chuckled within my mind…I couldn't imagine if I was her.
"Don't be afraid."
To whom was Mr. Hyde speaking?
"Who says I'm afraid?"
Ah, Mr. Sawyer. But how did Mr. Hyde…?
"YOU DO!"
OH!
At that moment, Mr. Hyde detained a chain from the wall and threw that piece to our agent! Thankfully he dodged it, as did our other league members in way of the attack! I missed its range, but I am able to bet that I jumped far more than any person in this room.
"YOU STINK OF FEAR!" Mr. Hyde's roar echoed the room. It would appear as if his senses are intriguingly sensitive…obviously.
"Quite the parlor trick," Mr. Gray commented. I know I've mentioned it before…but I cannot help but say that there is something about Mr. Gray that is intriguingly suspicious, and yet…fascinating! I know there is something 'out of bed' with this gentleman, and I mean to find out! Simply his voice…
I know when an individual is up to no good when I see them. I would know, for I've been that very individual myself.
"Just wait till you see my next one." Mr. Hyde snapped.
And then, something strange happened. I…I noticed he was restraining a kind of pain, and then…oh, shall I bear it?
Oh, but I must simply say it:
Mr. Hyde burst into smoke—the pain was unbearable to watch—moment after moment the beast was…was changing…and I could agonizingly see his ache as the alteration preceded. What was happening, I did not know, but the one thing that changed me at that moment was the fact that the beast's amendment brought me to remember that very night.
Yes—yes I remember it very clearly, once viewing this beast create the same kind of pain I once went through. I can still see the blinding white room…the groups of doctors dressed in the same white cloth…and oh, the table…
I cannot bear it! My eyes lightened hastily, being reminded of all the terror that I ventured to in the past and I just cannot bear to see another experience my very history!
My mind wanders to places I just cannot bear at moments. If I was not seeing the pain in front of me as a threatening reminder, that would be a different story.
And, once my sight was able to calm, I saw not Mr. Hyde, but a new man, oh so weak, and declining the floor in faint. He had worn what I believed to be Mr. Hyde's torn pants, and had a mass of untidy orange hair, due to unthankfully the horrid transformation just moments ago.
"Dr. Jekyll…at your service…"
Who was this man? Where was Mr. Hyde? Oh…blast this blinding power of mine! But if I was to assume, Mr. Hyde had turned to Dr. Jekyll. Does this confirm that they are indeed the…the same man? Shared bodies—or something of the sort, I am not sure. But it is surely curious!
"So…the league is set." I heard Mr. Quatermain speak across the room…and some sort of machinery produced a thin slip of paper of which I predicted to be a form of Morse code, and Nemo confirmed:
"So is the date for the conference. We have three days."
Three…! Marvelous!
Agent Sawyer huffed, which, I felt to be inappropriate and disrespectful for the moment, and said,
"Three days? Can this canoe do that?"
I felt sympathy for our Captain.
"You underestimate the Nautilus. You underestimate her greatly."
Surely, Agent Sawyer, you do.
And that was it. The league was set. And we were off—off to the conference in Venice, I would believe, and keep this humanity from degenerating beneath the Fantom's clasp.