It is the Late August of the year 1899, I'm Rodney Skinner, writting these chronicals beneath the surface ofd the Meditatranian Sea.I am curretly staying currently inside the Nautiuls, a deap sea-diving canoe, crafted by the brilliant Captain Nemo, we are on our way to London, to meet with a man with the name of Mycroft Holmes.1

Why am I writing? one might wonder.

I wrie because I have nothing else to do at the moment, my companions on this vessel are Captain Nemo: Indian conservative prince, if you can call attacking British merciant ships concervative, Tom Sawyer: rigger-happy american secret service agent, Mina Harker; formally Murray: a moody Vampire Chemist, and a gorgeous one might I add, Dr Henry Jekyll: the eternally nervous split-pesonality scientest, and finally, about 350 dedicated Indian sailors, all the 354 Individuals mentioned would rather have nothing to do with me whatsoever, to tell you the truth I don't mind.

It has been quit calm are depressing since the Prof Moriarty and Mongolia Affair, but Jekyll and Mina are recovering well, for they have started a relationship, and consemated it too, you see I was in the room when It happined, and I didn't want to embarass them by announcing my precense, so now they just think they have evrybody fooled, and being the prince that I am, I kept my mouth shut.

When they came out with it to the open, Sawyer will be crushed, I think he loves her, which is understandable. I myself, wouldn't mind bumping uglies with her, but to be in a relationship with such a demanding bird is beyond my power.

Somemonemight ask, what do I have that's worth documenting?

For tose characters I'll say that I've had a eventful life. both after and before i 'dissapeared', let me elaborate....

I was born in the year 1868, as Herbert Joseph Rodney Skinner, the albino son, to Marguirit Doyle and Sir Jack Skinner, most peopel would have thaugh my parents were poor lower class folk, but that isn't the case, my mother was a peot, my father served in India and got kighted for his services to the Queen, and had succes in the stock trading bussiess, he had eventually owned and presided one of England's prime Stock Brockrage Firms.

Both my parents had had previous marrigaes, with their former spouses dieing at sea, my father had a son that was ten years older than I, Abraham, who was never fond of me or my mother.

My parents were upstanding citizens, always in church on sundays, helping the poor ad the such, my father was a true gentleman, boardmember of the Chambers of Comers, an Oxford Alomnus and a Freemason, my brother Abraham mirrored my father in evrything, not becasue he belived in it but just for the sake of mirroring, he went to the same schol, excelled in the same maters and even bared a physical resemblance.

I on the other hand, was a toruble maker, constantly getting into fights, I wasn't very succesful academicly, "Your sun has Intellegence, Mrs Skinner," they said to mother, "But he lacks ambition and Intrest."

When I was six my mother died, she was killed by a half-witted serial killer, after that, evrything chaged, father became alof, more concentrated on his work, Abraham stayed the same, while I grew more and more careless.

To cut it short, I'll note that whe I was ten, Abraham went to fight in India, as did father, he came back a couple of year later highly decorated, it was astounding how he coppyed father.

At 16, father shipped me to a reform school, one of trhose high scoiety boarding schools that pride itself in 'Molding Boys into the Leader og Tomorrow', the hell they did! They simply made me worse, which I wreacked havoc for two years in till I graduated.

At 18, father urged me to join the army, taking one last desperate shot at making a Model Citizen out of me.

So, I went, and did fairly well, majorly in reconacense, and learned how to communicate in Moors code, among other things, I would have been decorated, if it werent for the fact that I was caught doing the dirty with the admirals daughter, so I was dishonerably discharged. He said,

"Mr Skinner, you have rewind the chance of a young lady in finding a proper husband! Your a shame to your father, a shame to the army, a shame to the queen and a shame to British people evrywhere."

I'ld like to not that someone had ruined his daughter's chance in finding a proper husband a long, long, long time ago, many times.

After I got back, father's health deteriorated, Abraham took over the firm, my father was still coherant, but he had no more wind in him, after a brief run in the bussiness, I proved how much I was't cut out for it.

So, I fell into crime, I began as a pickpocket, and climbed up the theivery lader from there, for me, it wasn't about the money, it was the sport.

Ome day, I got acquainted wiyh this young albino -like myself- called Griffin1, Hawley Griffin2, he would be the man that drasticly changed me.

I was 21, and this Bloke of 23 had caught up with me one day and said that his mother, had walked out on him ad his father when he was one, you see John Griffin, Hawley's dad, gave her a betting very often. Up to this point, the story is fairly common, but the thing is, the Mother in questio was my own, Marguirit Doyle.

Hawley was my brother, or half brotherahter , he told me that he had tried to track her down all his life, he wanted to know about her, so I told him, I spoke of her kindness and sweetness, of her poetry... For the next couple of weeks, we had bonded, I had leared that he was a physicist, particulary interested in light, it seemed like a shallow subject at the time, silly me.

We had parted soon, for he had to attend college, and I kept up the steeling, which I had kept secret from my small family.

For the next two years, father's health went from bad to worse, as he lay in his death bed, he summoned me, and asked for some privacy.

"Herbert..." he said.
"Yes?" I asked.
"Lean down to me."

And I did, and I'll never forget what he told me.

"You have some admiral traits, son."

The he croacked.

Ok, It wasn't touching, but all my life my fatherjust spoke of my as a degenerate brat, and he'd never caled me son, always it was Herbert, or Herbert Joseph.

At 23, my life started, you see, Abraham Inherated the entire fortune and title, and he was glad to toss me out on my arse.

"Maby now you'll learn to be a man." was the last thing he told me, to tell you the truth, there was no freting on my part.

To distance myself from my former life, I had also dropped my first two names, rendering it Rodney Skinner, I then went threw a rough period, but I eventually started travelling, stealing something or another wherever I'd stay, I had toured the world, Cairo, Bangkok, Newyork, Venice, I had a prosperous carear as a rogue, though my financial status fluctuated, at times I'd starve as I dwelled under a bridge, at other times I'd dress in silk garments and eat with the barons of europe and bed finne women.

I had even once almost got away with the Moanlisa! if it werent for my Impetint partner, who had a wake of consciens while we were snaging it from the luver, which was eritating; If you were going to renounce the deviant style of livivg, then go ahead, just do it after we got away with the bugging thing!

During the years I'd pay Old Hawley a visit evryonce in a while, when I was i England, though I noticed something, evrytime he grew more and more alof and more obsessed with his studies.

Till oe day, in the witer of 1897, I was in London, I recived a telegram from dear Hawley, saying he was in the 'Coach and Horses' Inn in a Eaping3, asking for my help.

So I hoped on the first train to that town, there I have see what have became of Hawley.

I remeber he met me at the station, cursing all the time about the stupid nosy town folk.

"Hawley," I said, "What happined to you? Have you been in an accident?"

Hawley's face was compleately consealed by bamdages and a suglasses, and a dark beard, the only visible feature of his was a bright red nose, smack dab in the middle of the bandages, which was uncanny, since he was an albino.

"I have, but not as youthink." he said, he then led the way to a small shed adjacent to the train station, as I contemlated his cryptic comment.

"Yuo remember I was particulary interested in light, correct?" he said as we were inside the shed, securely locked in.
"Sure, wh-"
"You know what makes glass transparent?" "Hawley, I didn't exactly come all the way to here from london just to listen to a lecture."
"It's the moleculus structure," he started, not paying muc attension to me, "The more properly alligned the molecules of a solid are, the clearer it gets, that's why when you smash a peace of glass it form a white powder,"
"If you say so." I said, rolling my eyes.
"Which brings me to the color white, did you know that white solids give us the color white because it reflects all forms of light that falls upon it?"
"I honestly didn't know that." I said sarcasticly.

"Don't worry I'll get to the point that intrests you, a few years back, I quit school and started my own experamints, to find a method to perfect the strusture of solids, to make solids' moleculus perfectly alliged, I year and some back, I succeded in creating a formula, which is applied threw a certin method, to turn any solid... Invisible." he said, his eyes almost sparked when he said the last word. "R-r-r-r-ight." I said, figuring that Hawley had picked up a sence of humor along one point.
"Beleave me you bastard!" he shouted, to which I flinched, "You might have not been a scientest, but you're one of keenest people I know."
"So you meen, Invisible like glass?"
"I mean Invisible like the air that surrouds us."
"And you can turn all objects Invisible?"
"Yes. Well, white objects."
"So what have you turned Invisible?" I asked, starting to take Intrest.
"The first thing was a white shred of woll. I had lost it a lnog time ago, and then a white cat."
"Hold on asec," I stoped him with my hand, "You're teling me there is an Invisible cat rumiging threw someones garbage as we speak?"
"Well, It's probebly dead."
"And that's where you stoped, right?" I said as fear started to fill me.
"I wish it was."

And then I saw something that was nothing like anythig anyone has seen borfe, Hawley had taken off his gloves, revealing an empty sleav that he raised to my eye level, the he took off the red nose, the beard, the bandages, the hat, the trench coat, the boots, the shirt, the slacks... He took it all off, and before me there was nothinng.

The rest of the day was a blur, but what I do rememeber is that he had persuaded me into leaving the god forsaken town, and gave me a dose of the formula and instructions to use it, he was afraid that the town's peopel would be out to get him.

Till this day I remember his last words as I stood at the back fo the train, he said,

"My Brother, you are my only family that's left, my mother's dead and my father kiled himself. My creation and you, Rodney, are all I have left, and as I fear dying in this town, in this winter, I beg you, if I die, let me live, let me live in you... Goodbye, my brother."

And the the train moved away, the Image of Hawley, with his red nose and bandages, and the sound of his words, will be vivid in my memory forever.

He did die that winter, stomped to death by a band of Ignorant pesants, the Spring that followed, I did as Hawley asked me, I applied the formula and became what I am, Invisible Man the 2nd, it felt like being from thrown from the sun's core into hell, but I made it through.

I paid a second visit to Eaping, Griffin's clothes were displayed in the Inn, and the ugly old couple who ran it were telling the story to the torrists that came to hear it, rediculously exagerating it, I was naked when I heared them, so what I did was that I marched to the wall the clothes were mounted on, I took them and put them on, then yelled at the top of my lungs,


The town folk, the torrists and the hotels staff shrunk in fear, and crumbled into piles of screaming, crying, pleading creatures, pleadinfg for who they thought was Griffin to spare their lives.

I had my retribution, to have them live in pure, utter fear for a minute, to have the multitudes run squealling in terror!3

But I had one more thing to do, I went to Dr kemp, the bastard who betrayed Hawley, I wanted to flog him to dath with a nightstick, but settled with tieing him up, gagging him, draging him out his house, looted the place of all valuables, then set fire to his house as he watched.

An hour later I was on the train back to London, I stood at the back, wearing Hawley'd hat and tranch coat and my own pince-nez and make up, and had the former valuables of Kemp inside a Doctor's bag I also stole from him, as I stood there, I had a vision of Hawley standing at the station and smiling as he waved goodbye, it was not the 31 year old, Invisible, Banadaged Hawley he had became, it was Hawley of 23 I first that met, standing next to the tracks, his white hair shining under the sun, the Hawley full of ambition I loved.

A few weeks later, I returned to theivery, using my newly acquired ability, and a year and a half later I was caught by the Special Branch, offering me a full pardon and a cure of Invisibility, by the time I had grew tired of it and accepted.

The rest is known to you, since you have acces to these Journals, how I have came in contact with two Immortals in Dorian and Mina, the greatest marksmen there ever was in Sawyer and Quatermain, and two brilliant scientests in Nemo and Jekyll.

So here I am, with a reminder of Hawley in the Invisibility and trench coat and hat, as old as he was when he died, which have now began to scare me out of my skin.

Do I have any regrests? one may ask, perhaps if I had been less mischevous I would be a rich london fat cat, playing bridge with Abraham on weekends, with a semi-beautiful wife and a slew of children.

Are you kidding? I had toured the world, stole all aroud the world, and even saved the world! If I could do it all over again, there wouldn't be much change.

Thats concludes the first 31 years of Herbert Joseph Rodney Skinner's Life, see you when I'm 62.

H. J. Rodney Skinner, Invisible Man the 2nd August 1899

Author's Notes

1 Mycroft Holmes is Sherlock holmes older, fatter, smarter brother, M's succesor in the comics.
2 Griffin is the original Invisible Man from HG Welss' 'The Invisible Man', his first name was no in the novel.
3 Eaping is the town that the Events of the Invisible Man take place in.
3 The first name Hawley is from Alan Moore and Kevin O'Neils' 'The Leagur of Extraordinary Gentlemen', a homage to Dr Hawley Crippin, a englishman who killed his wies woth poison.
4 The town and Inn mentioned are the town and motel in HG Well's novel.
5 The last line was delivered by the Invisible Man, Dr Jack Griffin in 'The Invisible Man'

Was it good for you as It was good for me? R&R.