Work Text
I've never felt more alive and now he's trying to take that feeling away from me. I hate him. Is it really that hard to accept? His way of acceptance is to complete his own existence. He doesn't think about the second person living in him, me. Although no, he totally thinks about me a lot. He hates me, too. Hates so much, that he is not averse to die, if I die with him. He's insane. I think I made him that way. Maybe I ran into it myself. But doesn't he has his sense to live? I may have taken it from him. Maybe I ruined his whole life. But the consequences come from a source. He made me. Maybe he didn't know what he was doing. I don't blame him for that. But I won't let him kill me, because I don't want to die myself.
He's a scientist, he's a living creature, he's Dr. Henry Jekyll. I'm a murderer, I'm alive, I'm Mr. Edward Hyde. The whole London is afraid of me, shaking in terror townspeople hide in their homes, afraid to go out from there, because I wander around the city and kill anyone I want, leaving behind a trail of blood and screams. No one is afraid of Dr. Jekyll. Underestimate him, think he's an idler, don't believe in his talent, what he can do. He's incredible. I'm afraid he doesn't believe it himself. He became miserable, locked in his laboratory, he does not go out there and is afraid of himself. Me. Pressure, created by me, breaks his back, grabs his hair, driving him crazy. Killing him.
The realization that my theory, that I was in charge, that I would stay if Dr. Jekyll dies, might be wrong, came to me very, very timely. Right when he was trying to kill us. He stands in front of the mirror and looks right into my soul. Maybe he looked for it there and didn't see it. Maybe there's no soul. That's possible. He holds the knife directly against his heart, clasping the handle with both hands. I feel like I'm holding this knife and pointing it at his heart, breaking it into pieces and enjoying it. Is it my fault? I can't understand it, for me there is no such thing. Tears are running down his cheeks and I can feel them on mine too. Salty taste. He doesn't want to die, but he put that feeling far away, in the darkest and farthest corner of his mind, and forgot about it. All he wants is to end the torment under the name Edward Hyde.
My mind is clouded. It's funny to me how he even tries to get rid of me, but he does not create new formulas, new elixirs and chemicals that could take me out of his body forever or at least for a long time. He just wants to die and I'm just one of the reasons. I thought for a minute I wanted him dead, too, which I never wanted. He is my Creator, who gave me life. The man who gave me my freedom, who made me alive. Maybe he could be my friend someday, but he doesn't get it. I am pure evil to him. I'll never change, it's not possible. I'll be in his shadow forever and it terrifies him, makes him cry at night, scream into the darkness. There was no more light for him, even if it is always around him.
The knife fell. I was able to take it from him. Maybe that's why I thought I was holding it. Maybe I tried to take the knife away from Jekyll from the beginning. Tears continue to flow down my cheeks. Unbearable feeling. He keeps looking at me, tries shouting to me, he hates me with all his heart, hopes that someday, I'll be out of his life forever. Freak, monster, killer, crazy, scary, weird, nightmarish. A nightmare that will never end."How are you going to end this nightmare if the only way you've tried is to kill yourself? This way the nightmare will end only for you, and not only nightmare, but youe entire life too, for which you worked so hard all this time. We have something in common, Jekyll - we think only of ourselves. About how we feel, good or bad, about our desires. We're not looking around.”I don't think he listens to me. All he hears is an unbearable ringing in his ears, bringing a headache like a scream, a moan, a cry. I want him to hear me. I want him to listen to me. Listen to me. I'm alive. There's just too little room in the world and we have to share a body, that's how I see it. Perhaps Dr. Henry Jekyll has more personalities. A set of individuals, the General steps which lead to the same action, which produces Jekyll. Apparently, they all want to die. Apparently, they are all tired of living, tired of me, tired of being miserable in the eyes of society. Why don't they change anything? I don't know, I'm separated from them and running my own life. And what is an own life? I don't think I'll ever have it. No matter how much I'm alive, Oh, I'll never be as free as the rest of the people. I'm not even human. I'm half of one whole. I am the dark part of man, all his secret desires, berserk and pervert, full of hatred and impudence, contrary to the norms attributed to “a human”."You wanted to send me to Hell, but aren't we already in Hell, Jekyll? Everyone around hates us. Everything around is in moral fire, burning people from within, sizzling angels in them. No one is worthy to go to Heaven, if it still exists, and Hell is full, so it moved to Earth. No matter how good you want to be, you'll never be if you don't try. So far, I can't see or feel you trying to be your best self against me. Maybe I wouldn't be so strong if you weren't so weak.”I raised my hands to the sky, black as my soul and not visible through the ceiling. Oh, sky is the best thing that ever happened to mankind. "Try again, Dr. Henry Jekyll! Spit on the little people who don't believe in you, you don't need them, strip me from yourself. But don't kill. I can see that you don't want to, so why do you need to? You're too smart and too stupid at the same time.”I didn't expect to hear his voice back, but I heard it. Trembling, still worrying voice. Young, far too young to die. If he doesn't agree with me, I could be him. Capture his body completely, not let him out, show what it's like to be a second person. What it's like to be Edward Hyde. Maybe then he'll feel alive again. Maybe then he'll let me live. I don't want to die.“I don't want to live, Hyde. Not with you by my side. This is too hard. I can not." I'm furious. “I know you're furious, I know I can find another way out, but it's so hard. I've had so many failures and the only time I've ever succeeded is when you showed up and ruined my life. I can't do this anymore. I can't let you live, either...” I hit the mirror. I would have grabbed his shoulders, shook him, shout to him how much selfish he is, how stupid. Even I know the value of life, and he's not. But we're in the same body, and I can only knock on the mirror, trying to get through to him. "Then I will teach you to live, Henry Jekyll." And from that moment on, he became a second person. I've got him under control. I'm in charge. I don't want him to die. I don't want to die. I don't want anyone telling me to die. I have this power, this might, this desire to live, to try everything, everything in the world, I have access to everything. I'll show him he can live by my side. Forever. And ever. And only Death can separate us. If she can.
