Habour me; Jekyll
Edward Hyde was a man, as you very well know, of little countenance but with a great fortune to his name. He lived a fine life, away from the constraints of the law, and neither a reputation behind his back so as to obey to what was expected of him. In short, Mr. Hyde was a man living every man's deepest and untold dreams.
And each night, this figure that went by said name, returned home to that damp, dingy lit house that could only be called such on the most loose of fashion. It was finely furnished inside, but the outside was no pretty sight. Hyde would scuttle down the passageways, and make his steady way back out towards the other end – the sure abode of Dr. Henry Jekyll. A quick swig of familiar, luke warm elixir, and he found himself once again within the refuge that was Jekyll's body. The crimes that he had committed, then became another man's business – no trace to lead back to the well respected doctor. Such a situation made Hyde smile.
Smile a twisted and dark smile beneath the boyish features that were Jekyll.
This, and this alone set out our scene, to play a small and ultimately insignificant part in the tale that surely belonged to that man-whom-had-it-all, Mr. Edward Hyde.
And in this small, insignificant and short life – E. Hyde met a man he never thought he would look twice at.
This is but a story, within a well known story. But a story, that nobody but the people involved knew of, not even Henry himself – And a story so irrelevant to the original plot, it should hardly have seemed worth speaking of, in the first place.