So it begins. The prologue.

Bit of a warning, this is all going to be first person, and not always from Jekyll. At times I might not mention who's speaking. This ficis sparked from different versions from book to movie to musical. I have a habit of doing that, heh... By the way, you won't have to know the story to be able to understand what's going on. I'm writing this in mind that not everyone has read/seen it.

Preemptive thanks to my former beta/editor and my various encouraging friends.

Disclaimer: Nope, don't own anything beyond this story. Maybe a random non-canon character now and again. Other than that the original author is the genius behind the tale.

Request: Last but not least, I'm looking for another editor/beta to assist me. You don't have to know the story, though it'll help, and it'll also be helpfulto have a general grasp on different character "voices." If you're interested, drop me a mail.


"There is no Henry! Only Hyde!"

The beast's voice was an animal's rasp, sending chills up the spines of those attending the wedding celebration. They backed away as he spun on them, waistcoat hanging loose - delicate buttons snapped off – his hair dangling in ratty strands before his face. The stench of fear was strong in the air, bringing a growling purr from his throat. Lisa's eyes were wide, childlike with incomprehension, her fingers itching to reach out to her husband – no, this monster. But the look in his wild, rust-colored gaze and her father's hand upon her arm kept her at bay. There were tears in her beautiful hazel eyes, making them agony to look upon. It should have been a joyous occasion, but one change ... one not-so-simple change had completely destroyed their bliss.

I look back on just what started all of this: Curiosity. Dreams. Determination. Fear... Steadily, over the years, Mr. Jekyll Sr. had descended into darkness, his mind slipping away from him until he was left nothing but a babbling fool. It pained me to see him within that damnable hospital, surrounded by nurses that did not care whether or not he survived. They showed no concern until he silenced and lay staring at the ceiling from his small sunken cot, blinking only when necessary – if his eyes opened at all – being fed sustenance by force. A man should never have to live this way, but it would have been inhumane to put him down like a lame dog. There had to be a way to bring him back from his endless night; had to be a way to assist him, lead him back to reality. To home...

And I, Henry Jekyll, was determined to accomplish it.