Brian Jenkins | Dr. Jekyll (tooth_fairy) wrote in vecturalogs, @ 2010-10-25 18:30:00 |
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Entry tags: | dr. jekyll |
Who: Dr. Henry Jekyll
What: Waking up and Getting Out
Where: 403 in Vectura, then London
When: Before the others realize that the ship has stopped
Warnings: Super walking action oh hot.
Ever since letting Edward Hyde into his life, Henry Jekyll had grown accustomed to waking up with lost patches of time in his mind. Oh, they came back to him eventually, like the remainders of a strange dream, but at first there was nothing. It was a black hole of vacancy burning in his skull, and all he could do was stare at his ceiling and wait for it to fill. Sometimes it filled slowly, and sometimes it filled quickly, but it always filled and it always meant something different to him than the last patched hole. But this time was different. This wasn't his ceiling. And the holes weren't filling.
Sitting up slowly, he ran his fingers over his face, staring at the opposite wall. Every nook and cranny, every crag and wrinkle, was perfectly preserved. The last time he had woken up, he was wearing another man's face. Feeling his heart spike in his chest, he scrambled off the bed, feeling his legs collapse uselessly underneath his weight. He didn't have time to cry out as he fell to the floor, forehead slamming down hard. Hissing in pain, he straightened up, rubbing his face as he stumbled awkwardly towards the nearest door in this tiny room. It opened into a small bathroom, lights off. Turning the light on, he peered into the mirror.
Same old Henry Jekyll. Same old face.
Grimacing, he pulled at his eyelids before dropping his hands. He couldn't remember the last time he had been like this. Not really. He remembered talking to Brian in France, and then waking up in Brian's apartment. He remembered taking the potion.
Oh God.
Suddenly, it all came back. Hyde beat those people. Max followed in his footsteps. Brian marinated in his own guilt. Covering his mouth with a hand, Henry stared into his own reflection, the horror in his eyes reflected back on himself. What had he done? What in God's name had he brought to this earth? Taking harried steps back, he broke out in a clumsy run, shuffling out of the room and shooting out into the hallway. Everything was vaguely familiar, in the smallest sense. He knew where to find the stairs, and that they would lead down to another floor, but what that floor was he couldn't say.
Further confusing to him was the fact that he was already fully dressed, smart shoes rapping over the steps with soft echoes. His hands shook at his sides as he reached the next floor down, peering about the midship curiously. There was no one else there, leaving him alone in what seemed to be a ghost ship. Before, he might have been distraught by this lack of company. But now, with the events of the last few months fresh in his mind, he was quite relieved. He had to get off this ship.
As he took off down a hallway, pacing anxiously, he noticed a smaller offshooting passageway. Hesitating, he peered down it, seeing a small door at the end. Not thinking twice, he scrambled towards it, wrestling with the handle until it clicked open. That sound was soft and delicate, as if it shouldn't have been made at all. Eyes wide, Henry pulled the door open to see the last thing he had expected: Broad Street.
Gasping, he stepped out onto the cobblestones, feeling much more at home than he thought he could. He turned to watch the door close behind him, close into what appeared to be an old pub that had long since shut its doors. Brow wrinkling, he scratched at his jaw, nails scraping over the thick beard growing over it. Without another thought to the strange ship and the dentist Brian - after all, he was back home, wasn't he? - Henry took off down the street in the direction of his home. So relieved he was to be free of the strange "New York" building that he didn't notice the foreign weight in his pocket for quite some time.