It all began on an early Sunday evening, and the year was 1893. The sky was on its way to
becoming night, with a pale moon appearing in its mass, cutting an orb shape into its inky black
density. Soon clouds would cover this beautiful sight and bring with it a storm that would cover that
sky with fog, not an unfamiliar sight here in London town.
Torrents of rain would also follow and would last until the crack of dawn.
Matted dark hair covered the skull of this young man that walked along the side walk, in the rain. A
gray hooded cloak was pulled up and over his head, preventing him from seeing what was just ahead
of him, a site that he had created himself. His hands were dead away stuck into his cloak pockets,
protecting them from the cold winter’s wind. Garbage fluttered around his feet, a firm indication of the
neighborhood's bad reputation. Broken windows lined the houses on the street, death and fury were
not uncommon to this place, a place where the whores were plenty and the business at hand lent to a
cut throat or two. To his front was the outline of a stop sign, back lit in shape by black against a
nights glowing lamp light. His hood again blocked his view, preventing him from seeing a glittering
stream of clear water spiraling down from a gutter he was passing. But these things meant little and
nothing to him, night was his friend, for the night was a keeper of his secret, the secret that he was
way beyond the realm of what any man had ever seen or would want to ever see. Here was the beast-
man, mad in his mind, a demon to all that crossed his past, but to he himself … he was glorious.
How does a man stand himself when all that he planed has gone to pieces? At moments like this, it
seemed almost easy to explain and to accept. Because he wasn’t the man he once was before, no
not in the least. He used to be a fellow of distinguished taste, of some notoriety, charming and even
dazzling at times. But now things were very different for him, for he had let this mind of evil out
shadow the mind that should have been, a mind of normalcy. Most people can and always should
stand back and make themselves observe success from a distance, before leaping head first into a
glow that was so enticing and appetizing. But for all his wisdom and good sense, he now fell short. A
sharp critique, a keen eye, a better frame work to discern that an evil heart was about to descend
upon him and devour him and in total, leaving nothing but the shell of his former self. These were the
hours of the beast, a beast the Ripper himself would shy away from and with good cause.
* * *
As it slipped through finger to finger he felt that it was moist in his pocket and not from the rain that
fell on him. It was moist and almost oozing, like some gelatin covering a piece of dough, squishing
through ones fingers. He knew, as he tumbled the organ in that pocket, covered in congealed blood,
that all things would be different, completely different from that point on. If you could have seen his
face then, it would have shown a demonic smile, with teeth, most yellow and crooked, a slimy
substance dangling from his chin of distorted flesh. Pulling his twisted hand from the pocket, he
admired the catch from his first interlude with a person. One of the hoodlums he should have feared
now lay waste in a gutter only a block behind. No one saw what he’d done, no one knew what this
beast-man was capable of, or that he has grown to love the kill, every inch of it. To disembowel them
with the same intent as would the finest surgeon at a hospital. This event made his pride well up
inside, this was the face of evil that no one would ever want to meet and with that thought he put it on
tonight.
Night, the sweet joy of its loveliness now surged through his maddening eyes, a skull, a twisted
bulbous mass, with only the elephant man to compare it against. His eyes large, blue green and
golden orbs, sunken deep and almost gone within their cavities, struggling to see through his broad
Cro-Magnon brows. His nostrils flared up and out, like the wolves and their catch, struggling for
another scent of a man or a woman, it almost didn’t matter to him, what did matter to him most was his
lust for flesh, his lust to dig and carve into a cavity we would to call a body. To him it had no such
meaning. And he thought to himself, “Mr. Hyde would understand my need! Mr. Hyde would
understand all things that I crave for in the night! But where is Mr. Hyde when I need him most?
Surely he is leering at some young feminine flesh for his very own delight.” And he continued his
thought, “Yes, yes, Mr. Hyde, oh come to me if you can and we’ll share our stories, so fowl to most,
but delightful to us. The taste of flesh between our grizzly lips, the feel of another’s organs pocketed
as a prize from our catch. To dig deep into the stomach of a bystander or a whore, to see that look of
torment and ghastly surprise on their face, as our hands tear at their innards.”,
“Maaaarrrrrrggggggg,”, he moaned to himself. Words were almost useless to him now, for his lips
were so different in shape from any of us, that he could hardly form a single letter of tone. Instead
what came from his mouth were twisted animal like sounds, “Maaaarrrrrrggggggg,”, came from deep
down in his throat, “Maaaarrrrrrggggggg,”, this was the beast-man in him now growling with delight,
“Maaaarrrrrrggggggg,”, these were deliberate words sent straight up from in his own beating heart.
He clutched to the dangling flesh in his hands, letting it ooze through his fingers. With his other
misshapened hand he reached up and tugged on his hood, trying to cover what used to be known as
a face, but now could only be called a monstrosity. Everything about him was inhuman. Everything
about him was insane. The rain fell steadily now, washing the blood away from his dark cloak. Only
some congealed spots of blood clung to the wool of his clothes. Intestines, also prized, were threaded
through the button holes of his cloak, for as many of the trophies as he could take, he took. And with
each trophy his mind was raised to another level, a level of glee, a level of joy, a level only another
demon would understand. Between his growls came a shrill cackling sound, sounding like the
laughter that would come from a child who was acting innocent of their prank. A prank that they
played on an unsuspecting friend, “He he he he he he he he he!” “Mahahahahaha...
Aaaaarrrrrrgggg...Mahahahahahaha...Aaaaarrrrrrgggggg”
“Mahahahahahahahahah. Oh yes, Mr. Hyde would understand.” For both were doctors, both
scientists, both creators, both gentleman and most distinguished, both egotistical enough to believe
that what they had done was right, in a most maddening of ways.
The two were closest of friends and understood when with each other, that their thoughts about a
dark side of ones personality and even physical features should and could be acceptable for their
cause and their cause was of course, “Science.” They knew it was dark and negative, but not to
pursue this directions would almost be more mad than going that way at all. After all it was for the
cause of Science and a new development of
their work. It wasn’t hard for them to take their studies to another level, another leap, so to speak.
What was truly maddening to them was the fact that other scientists showed disbelief about their work,
that their thoughts were not akin to all of the rest of what science had believed in before, or what good
and right should is. They were told they should cease their dabbling into places that were as taboo
for others that came before them. But this didn’t sway these two doctors shinning in their own minds,
it only made their quest grow deeper in their souls. These were two men who wouldn’t be swayed in
their belief that they had the right to think as they may and continue to dabble into places where
others had not even dreamed of going. They had succeeded in latching onto the dark side of the
mind, a part that lay hidden under the vale and shadows of mystique, for what seems like forever.
Each of them had their own lab and only compared notes and fond chats from time to time. Each
walked down different roads, using different chemicals and getting different results, as to the features
and result upon the creatures they used as guinea pigs, for their creations. The doctor’s creations
were done on rats, on mice and even insects had the same results, beside from their temperament
that had been altered, the physical features of the creatures would change, and sometimes
drastically. But what was worse is that with each new dosage and experiment the effect lasted longer
and physical distortions seemed to escalate making it impossible to know if the desired effect of a
more intelligent creature was outweighing the negatives that were so much on the surface. But in this
doctors’ mind, the positive changes happening in his subject far outweighed any negative effects,
making them superior to what they were. Their strength increased, their senses heightened, they
became super creatures, and so he thought. Yes, there seemed to be side effects that made the
experiments less than desirable at times, attacking another mate in the cage, ripping them limb from
limb with the ease of a bear attacking its prey, and almost with a mind set of glee, dancing on hind
legs to and fro after the kill. But this was only one in ten that showed this characteristic. And the facts
that the little creatures themselves were distorted in looks …Hardly a reason to dissuade them on
their course. So our good doctor thought, there is only one other place we can go to see if my
concoction has merit on its own. That was to use it on a human. And with no willing subjects to be
found he was left with one thought, he would use himself as the test subject and no one could fault
him the worse. In his mind this thought was pure sanity, in ours, sheer madness.
“This is nothing like the others.” said the policeman, “This”, speaking with fear and personal
disbelief on his face, “is so much more ghastly and horrible than the last.” Another policeman
stepped forward eyeing the corpse mangled and disemboweled, with blood still draining onto the wet
pavement, “No, this is not like the others. Here we have a man torn as if some animal came to feast
on this body. It looks as though it was torn from the inside out. What manner of beast could do such
a thing?” Both officers looked at each other and bending over the corpse, drew in the stench from
the find and heaved their dinner beside the mass of flesh. “My good man, stand back and observe no
more. Let us cover this body before the innocent come for a gander.” They brought out a sheet and
covered the remnants of what was left of the body. They let it lay untouched until the coroner came to
scoop up the balance of what used to be called a man.
Down at the yard a team of police talked with almost a quiver in their throats, “What do we have at
hand. Unlike the other cases, when our victims have been beaten to a pulp, we have a crime more
grotesque and cruel, beyond and below what we have seen thus far.” Another policeman chimed in,
“Far beyond all I have seen. This is the hand of some demonic, raging beast-man. And as our good
doctor tells us, attacks with a distinct knowledge of anatomy, with the precision of a professional.
Making me think it might be the hands of some doctor or surgeon.” They couldn’t imagine such a
fiend, being able to do it without a scalpel or some tools, for no cuts that where made could be made
without the use of a tool, like a razor or that scalpel, unless this being had sharpened nails on his
hands, like a scalpel. The thought of it made there minds reel with discontent and worry. For if this
was the beginning of another rage filled nightmare, their streets would never be safe, for where else
could a beast like this go to fulfill its blood lust but the streets of their fine city? Surely, this was no act
that would end with one slaying, for sure there will be more. And how do they combat with such a
creature, now two creatures of the night, who roamed their streets with a manner of cruelty and evil,
and done with incredible ease. For now, all was quiet and stood stock still in this wake. But soon
nightfall would come again and with it more evil to the people. It seemed bleak and without hope,
thinking of walking the streets at night with two separate and distinct beasts, Mr. Hyde and this
unknown one, roaming free without mercy. They would mandate a curfew for their town but this was
only a slight deterrent for what was inevitable to happen. They could only scour the streets so much
and God help the next poor soul who came along the path of these beast-men alone. If the police
staid solid in mind and as a team they might have a chance to overcome and even destroy these
creatures, but separate and alone no one knew if they possessed what it would take to bring down a
beast of this vile intent and horror. So they made their curfew and went out in packs hoping to come
across each of these fiends who seemed invisible to them now. And only in packs would they have a
form of defense, only in packs they might have the courage to walk in the dark of the night that lay
before them.
Dr. Arthur Aldrege peered into the window of his laboratory, knowing that his former self was of no
use to him anymore. For his mind had decayed to a point where his present self had no interest to
understand what a mad creature he had created and become. His experiment had failed miserably
but in his mind it was a total success, no matter what he saw or felt it was right to him in his insides.
Everything about him had transformed into this present self. Not even the shadow of the former
doctor remained. He balled himself into a corner in the front of his flat, letting the rain pelt his cloak
and beast like shape. He lay crumpled and drew breath after breath till no more breaths could be
taken. His shape had changed to a point that his breath ways were changed beyond the thought of
repair. While he lay in a heap he thought of the night before when he was still a man and could
converse in leisure with his dear good friend, Dr. Jeckel. In his mind it was now 7 PM, the night
before, “My good Dr. Jeckel how good of you to come. Let me take your cloak and hat. Let me fetch
you a drink and let’s share of our stories.” The good doctor Jeckel looked deep into his friend’s blue
eyes, eyes that peered back at him in a most congenial way, “Why certainly I’ll have a nip or two,
surely I haven’t come this way, only to chat for a bit. So pour me one and I’ll let you pour me another”
Dr. Aldrege tilted this bottle of fine wine, he had just uncorked and filled the glasses until till they were
three quarters full. He swirled the liquid around in the glass and valued the bouquet from the
contents of the glass. Then he took the first sip and said, “Ah...just as fine as it can get. Have a sip
and find out for yourself.” Dr. Jeckel did just that, savoring the rich full body of the drink, and they
continued their chat for some time more. “Now my good Dr. Aldrege how are your experiments
coming?” the doctor looked out of the panes of the window, showing how gray it had become outside
and said, “As well as can be expected, I would think.” with a proud smile and look of achievement on
his face, “As well as can be expected.” Jeckel faced him though his back was all he could see, as the
doctor kept his stare out of the window, “My friend, have you straightened out the problem of
corruption within your formula. To think that a distortion of nature could happen even once is far
beyond any thought of success.” With a turn on the ball of his foot, he spun 180 degrees, facing the
doctor square face to face, “Oh I know what you’re thinking. Is it not you who has touched on the
irrational and inconceivable? It is Mr. Hyde that thinks this way. And I am certain, that I am the only
one that does not find distaste in his look or his manner.” Jeckel’s eyes averted his stare, that was
bold and some how maddening. Jeckel tried to choose his words carefully as he spoke, “Yes my dear
Mr. Hyde has made it clear to me that there is a side to our nature that ought not be tampered with or
sort after, no matter how enticing it may look in a moment.” Aldrege broke in, “But think of all I have
proven with my work; that the mind can be altered for a time that brings forth the opposite side of our
being, to touch upon the brilliant, to expand what has been unexpanded.” Then Dr. Jeckle continued,
“My dearest friend, your chemistry not only leans us toward the dark side but twists the entire
structure and fabric of good nature and of our being. Even in my mind this is sheer madness and
surely will have no end but a lonely one.” There was silence between the two for a moment and then
Dr. Jeckel continued, “Leave your studies and follow with me. Together we can pool our resources
and come out with something of a magnitude and sanity the world has never seen.” But Aldrege
would have none of this talk. Tonight it was clear in his mind what step he would take. Tonight he
would drink the drink concocted from his own internal magic. He was positive that he held the formula
that would make him into a being far above all the others. Raising his intelligence, bringing new
strength to his muscular signature, heightening every sense in his body, to him this was no dark
potion as the doctor insinuated it to be. This was a blessing from his God and Aldrege would not be a
failure in his God’s eyes, at least not a failure on this night.
Aldrege tried his best to understand his friend Jeckel’s concern in his work. But he couldn’t agree
less, and w8ile he was their he did his best not to show anger or contempt for being disagreed with on
his work. He bid the doctor farewell, for he knew this was the last time he and the doctor would chat
as a man to a man and a common mind to another’s common mind. As soon as the doctor left,
Aldrege turned and scurried off to his lab, passing cage after cage of animals that lay in ruins in their
flesh. Only one massive rat was left that ran from end to end in its cage, a creature which walked on
hind legs and had a grimace of madness on its face. Aldrege stopped at this cage, peered in and
spoke in a voice that was clearly chaos in his mind, “Why didn’t you prove me wrong, my dear rat
friend. Why aren’t you the proof that would give me the reason to do what I plan on doing on this my
momentous evening of my life. You are stronger. You are broader and far more intelligent than the
rest. It’s clear, yes it’s clear in my head that you are the very reason that the time for tests are no
more! It is time to make my plunge into the human flesh, and heart, and mind.” Aldrege stared in the
cage, cracking his knuckles and seemed giddy as a school boy. “Flesh was flesh and mind was mind
and mine is taking its leave from this world of small minded men and their miniscule dream states.” He
turned from the rat-creature and headed for the laboratories table, where there were flasks filled with
many colored potions. The doctor knew which one to grab. He held the lip of the flask to his own lips
and in one motion drank most of it down. Immediately his eyes seemed to widen and contract and
widen again, looking ready to pop from there sockets. The doctor spun in his place with arms flailing
all about, knocking over flasks and all manner of chemicals, finally he fell to the floor and balling
himself up in a fetal position, flung his head back, like a spasm. His mouth opened wide in the shape
of an “O” and a sound bellowed from him like a banshee with a knife jammed deep between its ribs,
with sharp, high pitched wallowing screams. He shook and he shook and he shook all the more, like a
man in convulsions, like a man that was no man at all. In a blink, all went black and the next thing he
knew is that he felt rain falling all about him. In that second he knew that all had changed and nothing
would be the same ever again. All had changed forever and ever and more.
Tick, tick, tick went the clock that now lay in a mound of broken glass, once housing its contents.
The hour hand shown that two hours had passed since the time the potion was drunk. By this time
the transformation was well on its way and the doctor’s mind wasn’t even a shadow of what used to
be. Everything was different, his view of the world darkened considerably for his eyes, though much
larger, had begun to sink beneath massive brows. Standing in the shadows of the room he observed
all the equipment laying in ruins and scattered about the place. Not knowing what to make of it, he
grabbed his cloak with a hand that looked like sharp talons of some monstrous hawk and flew into the
black of night and rain, now coming down in torrents.
Many hours later, with morning approaching and light ready to expose all that he was, he bent over
with a hunch in a primeval way. He had trouble forming even a single thought, “It must be a success.
I’m sure my good friend would think better of of me if it was.” He inhaled and exhaled as best he
could, taking in the rain water along with each breath. His body had continued to change with the
night, distorting his form into a most useless state. By morning’s full light, all that remained was a
massive lump of flesh and the treasures he had collected from his one and only victim. An organ still
clutched between the fingers and talons he used to call hands. The intestines were still looped
through a button hole of his fine cloak. With his final breath he had only one thought, “The good Mr.
Hyde would have understood. Oh yes indeed he would have.”
Dr. Jeckel peered out his window that bright early morning and wondered what the all the fuss was
about? Why were the police and commoner, humming around his old friend’s house, Dr. Aldrege.
Why just yesterday afternoon they joined and had a discussion, talking thoughts about their work. So
what could this fuss be all about in front of his flat?
He dressed and made his way to the good doctor’s residence moving through the crowd of “ooing
and ahing” people. What he saw not only made him feel gravely ill but gag in the back of this throat.
At once, he knew what creature lay before him and he knew there was only one person in this world
that might understand why this misshappened being lay in a heap, as it did.. It was without question,
Mr. Hyde.
Dr. Jeckel turned on his heel and walked back to this home where his own potion was bottled.
Would tonight be a night to end his own madness and destroy what was left of his potion and diaries?
Or would tonight be another of those nights where madness seemed saner than sanity? His face
turned up to the sky and he squinted in the morning’s sun. You could see the shape of some
demonic smile edge up from the corner of his mouth. The day went on and the night drew near. At
least the people of London would feel safer on there streets because one creature was surely gone
… possibly the worse of the two.
* * *
Was science taught anything from Dr. Aldrege’s studies and experiments? Only that it was a lonely
time when you choose to tinker in places that no man should dream of, for some dreams are better
left alone. Some dreams weren’t even meant to be dreamed by madmen. Surely, this was one of
those dreams no one should have dreamt.
THE END
becoming night, with a pale moon appearing in its mass, cutting an orb shape into its inky black
density. Soon clouds would cover this beautiful sight and bring with it a storm that would cover that
sky with fog, not an unfamiliar sight here in London town.
Torrents of rain would also follow and would last until the crack of dawn.
Matted dark hair covered the skull of this young man that walked along the side walk, in the rain. A
gray hooded cloak was pulled up and over his head, preventing him from seeing what was just ahead
of him, a site that he had created himself. His hands were dead away stuck into his cloak pockets,
protecting them from the cold winter’s wind. Garbage fluttered around his feet, a firm indication of the
neighborhood's bad reputation. Broken windows lined the houses on the street, death and fury were
not uncommon to this place, a place where the whores were plenty and the business at hand lent to a
cut throat or two. To his front was the outline of a stop sign, back lit in shape by black against a
nights glowing lamp light. His hood again blocked his view, preventing him from seeing a glittering
stream of clear water spiraling down from a gutter he was passing. But these things meant little and
nothing to him, night was his friend, for the night was a keeper of his secret, the secret that he was
way beyond the realm of what any man had ever seen or would want to ever see. Here was the beast-
man, mad in his mind, a demon to all that crossed his past, but to he himself … he was glorious.
How does a man stand himself when all that he planed has gone to pieces? At moments like this, it
seemed almost easy to explain and to accept. Because he wasn’t the man he once was before, no
not in the least. He used to be a fellow of distinguished taste, of some notoriety, charming and even
dazzling at times. But now things were very different for him, for he had let this mind of evil out
shadow the mind that should have been, a mind of normalcy. Most people can and always should
stand back and make themselves observe success from a distance, before leaping head first into a
glow that was so enticing and appetizing. But for all his wisdom and good sense, he now fell short. A
sharp critique, a keen eye, a better frame work to discern that an evil heart was about to descend
upon him and devour him and in total, leaving nothing but the shell of his former self. These were the
hours of the beast, a beast the Ripper himself would shy away from and with good cause.
* * *
As it slipped through finger to finger he felt that it was moist in his pocket and not from the rain that
fell on him. It was moist and almost oozing, like some gelatin covering a piece of dough, squishing
through ones fingers. He knew, as he tumbled the organ in that pocket, covered in congealed blood,
that all things would be different, completely different from that point on. If you could have seen his
face then, it would have shown a demonic smile, with teeth, most yellow and crooked, a slimy
substance dangling from his chin of distorted flesh. Pulling his twisted hand from the pocket, he
admired the catch from his first interlude with a person. One of the hoodlums he should have feared
now lay waste in a gutter only a block behind. No one saw what he’d done, no one knew what this
beast-man was capable of, or that he has grown to love the kill, every inch of it. To disembowel them
with the same intent as would the finest surgeon at a hospital. This event made his pride well up
inside, this was the face of evil that no one would ever want to meet and with that thought he put it on
tonight.
Night, the sweet joy of its loveliness now surged through his maddening eyes, a skull, a twisted
bulbous mass, with only the elephant man to compare it against. His eyes large, blue green and
golden orbs, sunken deep and almost gone within their cavities, struggling to see through his broad
Cro-Magnon brows. His nostrils flared up and out, like the wolves and their catch, struggling for
another scent of a man or a woman, it almost didn’t matter to him, what did matter to him most was his
lust for flesh, his lust to dig and carve into a cavity we would to call a body. To him it had no such
meaning. And he thought to himself, “Mr. Hyde would understand my need! Mr. Hyde would
understand all things that I crave for in the night! But where is Mr. Hyde when I need him most?
Surely he is leering at some young feminine flesh for his very own delight.” And he continued his
thought, “Yes, yes, Mr. Hyde, oh come to me if you can and we’ll share our stories, so fowl to most,
but delightful to us. The taste of flesh between our grizzly lips, the feel of another’s organs pocketed
as a prize from our catch. To dig deep into the stomach of a bystander or a whore, to see that look of
torment and ghastly surprise on their face, as our hands tear at their innards.”,
“Maaaarrrrrrggggggg,”, he moaned to himself. Words were almost useless to him now, for his lips
were so different in shape from any of us, that he could hardly form a single letter of tone. Instead
what came from his mouth were twisted animal like sounds, “Maaaarrrrrrggggggg,”, came from deep
down in his throat, “Maaaarrrrrrggggggg,”, this was the beast-man in him now growling with delight,
“Maaaarrrrrrggggggg,”, these were deliberate words sent straight up from in his own beating heart.
He clutched to the dangling flesh in his hands, letting it ooze through his fingers. With his other
misshapened hand he reached up and tugged on his hood, trying to cover what used to be known as
a face, but now could only be called a monstrosity. Everything about him was inhuman. Everything
about him was insane. The rain fell steadily now, washing the blood away from his dark cloak. Only
some congealed spots of blood clung to the wool of his clothes. Intestines, also prized, were threaded
through the button holes of his cloak, for as many of the trophies as he could take, he took. And with
each trophy his mind was raised to another level, a level of glee, a level of joy, a level only another
demon would understand. Between his growls came a shrill cackling sound, sounding like the
laughter that would come from a child who was acting innocent of their prank. A prank that they
played on an unsuspecting friend, “He he he he he he he he he!” “Mahahahahaha...
Aaaaarrrrrrgggg...Mahahahahahaha...Aaaaarrrrrrgggggg”
“Mahahahahahahahahah. Oh yes, Mr. Hyde would understand.” For both were doctors, both
scientists, both creators, both gentleman and most distinguished, both egotistical enough to believe
that what they had done was right, in a most maddening of ways.
The two were closest of friends and understood when with each other, that their thoughts about a
dark side of ones personality and even physical features should and could be acceptable for their
cause and their cause was of course, “Science.” They knew it was dark and negative, but not to
pursue this directions would almost be more mad than going that way at all. After all it was for the
cause of Science and a new development of
their work. It wasn’t hard for them to take their studies to another level, another leap, so to speak.
What was truly maddening to them was the fact that other scientists showed disbelief about their work,
that their thoughts were not akin to all of the rest of what science had believed in before, or what good
and right should is. They were told they should cease their dabbling into places that were as taboo
for others that came before them. But this didn’t sway these two doctors shinning in their own minds,
it only made their quest grow deeper in their souls. These were two men who wouldn’t be swayed in
their belief that they had the right to think as they may and continue to dabble into places where
others had not even dreamed of going. They had succeeded in latching onto the dark side of the
mind, a part that lay hidden under the vale and shadows of mystique, for what seems like forever.
Each of them had their own lab and only compared notes and fond chats from time to time. Each
walked down different roads, using different chemicals and getting different results, as to the features
and result upon the creatures they used as guinea pigs, for their creations. The doctor’s creations
were done on rats, on mice and even insects had the same results, beside from their temperament
that had been altered, the physical features of the creatures would change, and sometimes
drastically. But what was worse is that with each new dosage and experiment the effect lasted longer
and physical distortions seemed to escalate making it impossible to know if the desired effect of a
more intelligent creature was outweighing the negatives that were so much on the surface. But in this
doctors’ mind, the positive changes happening in his subject far outweighed any negative effects,
making them superior to what they were. Their strength increased, their senses heightened, they
became super creatures, and so he thought. Yes, there seemed to be side effects that made the
experiments less than desirable at times, attacking another mate in the cage, ripping them limb from
limb with the ease of a bear attacking its prey, and almost with a mind set of glee, dancing on hind
legs to and fro after the kill. But this was only one in ten that showed this characteristic. And the facts
that the little creatures themselves were distorted in looks …Hardly a reason to dissuade them on
their course. So our good doctor thought, there is only one other place we can go to see if my
concoction has merit on its own. That was to use it on a human. And with no willing subjects to be
found he was left with one thought, he would use himself as the test subject and no one could fault
him the worse. In his mind this thought was pure sanity, in ours, sheer madness.
“This is nothing like the others.” said the policeman, “This”, speaking with fear and personal
disbelief on his face, “is so much more ghastly and horrible than the last.” Another policeman
stepped forward eyeing the corpse mangled and disemboweled, with blood still draining onto the wet
pavement, “No, this is not like the others. Here we have a man torn as if some animal came to feast
on this body. It looks as though it was torn from the inside out. What manner of beast could do such
a thing?” Both officers looked at each other and bending over the corpse, drew in the stench from
the find and heaved their dinner beside the mass of flesh. “My good man, stand back and observe no
more. Let us cover this body before the innocent come for a gander.” They brought out a sheet and
covered the remnants of what was left of the body. They let it lay untouched until the coroner came to
scoop up the balance of what used to be called a man.
Down at the yard a team of police talked with almost a quiver in their throats, “What do we have at
hand. Unlike the other cases, when our victims have been beaten to a pulp, we have a crime more
grotesque and cruel, beyond and below what we have seen thus far.” Another policeman chimed in,
“Far beyond all I have seen. This is the hand of some demonic, raging beast-man. And as our good
doctor tells us, attacks with a distinct knowledge of anatomy, with the precision of a professional.
Making me think it might be the hands of some doctor or surgeon.” They couldn’t imagine such a
fiend, being able to do it without a scalpel or some tools, for no cuts that where made could be made
without the use of a tool, like a razor or that scalpel, unless this being had sharpened nails on his
hands, like a scalpel. The thought of it made there minds reel with discontent and worry. For if this
was the beginning of another rage filled nightmare, their streets would never be safe, for where else
could a beast like this go to fulfill its blood lust but the streets of their fine city? Surely, this was no act
that would end with one slaying, for sure there will be more. And how do they combat with such a
creature, now two creatures of the night, who roamed their streets with a manner of cruelty and evil,
and done with incredible ease. For now, all was quiet and stood stock still in this wake. But soon
nightfall would come again and with it more evil to the people. It seemed bleak and without hope,
thinking of walking the streets at night with two separate and distinct beasts, Mr. Hyde and this
unknown one, roaming free without mercy. They would mandate a curfew for their town but this was
only a slight deterrent for what was inevitable to happen. They could only scour the streets so much
and God help the next poor soul who came along the path of these beast-men alone. If the police
staid solid in mind and as a team they might have a chance to overcome and even destroy these
creatures, but separate and alone no one knew if they possessed what it would take to bring down a
beast of this vile intent and horror. So they made their curfew and went out in packs hoping to come
across each of these fiends who seemed invisible to them now. And only in packs would they have a
form of defense, only in packs they might have the courage to walk in the dark of the night that lay
before them.
Dr. Arthur Aldrege peered into the window of his laboratory, knowing that his former self was of no
use to him anymore. For his mind had decayed to a point where his present self had no interest to
understand what a mad creature he had created and become. His experiment had failed miserably
but in his mind it was a total success, no matter what he saw or felt it was right to him in his insides.
Everything about him had transformed into this present self. Not even the shadow of the former
doctor remained. He balled himself into a corner in the front of his flat, letting the rain pelt his cloak
and beast like shape. He lay crumpled and drew breath after breath till no more breaths could be
taken. His shape had changed to a point that his breath ways were changed beyond the thought of
repair. While he lay in a heap he thought of the night before when he was still a man and could
converse in leisure with his dear good friend, Dr. Jeckel. In his mind it was now 7 PM, the night
before, “My good Dr. Jeckel how good of you to come. Let me take your cloak and hat. Let me fetch
you a drink and let’s share of our stories.” The good doctor Jeckel looked deep into his friend’s blue
eyes, eyes that peered back at him in a most congenial way, “Why certainly I’ll have a nip or two,
surely I haven’t come this way, only to chat for a bit. So pour me one and I’ll let you pour me another”
Dr. Aldrege tilted this bottle of fine wine, he had just uncorked and filled the glasses until till they were
three quarters full. He swirled the liquid around in the glass and valued the bouquet from the
contents of the glass. Then he took the first sip and said, “Ah...just as fine as it can get. Have a sip
and find out for yourself.” Dr. Jeckel did just that, savoring the rich full body of the drink, and they
continued their chat for some time more. “Now my good Dr. Aldrege how are your experiments
coming?” the doctor looked out of the panes of the window, showing how gray it had become outside
and said, “As well as can be expected, I would think.” with a proud smile and look of achievement on
his face, “As well as can be expected.” Jeckel faced him though his back was all he could see, as the
doctor kept his stare out of the window, “My friend, have you straightened out the problem of
corruption within your formula. To think that a distortion of nature could happen even once is far
beyond any thought of success.” With a turn on the ball of his foot, he spun 180 degrees, facing the
doctor square face to face, “Oh I know what you’re thinking. Is it not you who has touched on the
irrational and inconceivable? It is Mr. Hyde that thinks this way. And I am certain, that I am the only
one that does not find distaste in his look or his manner.” Jeckel’s eyes averted his stare, that was
bold and some how maddening. Jeckel tried to choose his words carefully as he spoke, “Yes my dear
Mr. Hyde has made it clear to me that there is a side to our nature that ought not be tampered with or
sort after, no matter how enticing it may look in a moment.” Aldrege broke in, “But think of all I have
proven with my work; that the mind can be altered for a time that brings forth the opposite side of our
being, to touch upon the brilliant, to expand what has been unexpanded.” Then Dr. Jeckle continued,
“My dearest friend, your chemistry not only leans us toward the dark side but twists the entire
structure and fabric of good nature and of our being. Even in my mind this is sheer madness and
surely will have no end but a lonely one.” There was silence between the two for a moment and then
Dr. Jeckel continued, “Leave your studies and follow with me. Together we can pool our resources
and come out with something of a magnitude and sanity the world has never seen.” But Aldrege
would have none of this talk. Tonight it was clear in his mind what step he would take. Tonight he
would drink the drink concocted from his own internal magic. He was positive that he held the formula
that would make him into a being far above all the others. Raising his intelligence, bringing new
strength to his muscular signature, heightening every sense in his body, to him this was no dark
potion as the doctor insinuated it to be. This was a blessing from his God and Aldrege would not be a
failure in his God’s eyes, at least not a failure on this night.
Aldrege tried his best to understand his friend Jeckel’s concern in his work. But he couldn’t agree
less, and w8ile he was their he did his best not to show anger or contempt for being disagreed with on
his work. He bid the doctor farewell, for he knew this was the last time he and the doctor would chat
as a man to a man and a common mind to another’s common mind. As soon as the doctor left,
Aldrege turned and scurried off to his lab, passing cage after cage of animals that lay in ruins in their
flesh. Only one massive rat was left that ran from end to end in its cage, a creature which walked on
hind legs and had a grimace of madness on its face. Aldrege stopped at this cage, peered in and
spoke in a voice that was clearly chaos in his mind, “Why didn’t you prove me wrong, my dear rat
friend. Why aren’t you the proof that would give me the reason to do what I plan on doing on this my
momentous evening of my life. You are stronger. You are broader and far more intelligent than the
rest. It’s clear, yes it’s clear in my head that you are the very reason that the time for tests are no
more! It is time to make my plunge into the human flesh, and heart, and mind.” Aldrege stared in the
cage, cracking his knuckles and seemed giddy as a school boy. “Flesh was flesh and mind was mind
and mine is taking its leave from this world of small minded men and their miniscule dream states.” He
turned from the rat-creature and headed for the laboratories table, where there were flasks filled with
many colored potions. The doctor knew which one to grab. He held the lip of the flask to his own lips
and in one motion drank most of it down. Immediately his eyes seemed to widen and contract and
widen again, looking ready to pop from there sockets. The doctor spun in his place with arms flailing
all about, knocking over flasks and all manner of chemicals, finally he fell to the floor and balling
himself up in a fetal position, flung his head back, like a spasm. His mouth opened wide in the shape
of an “O” and a sound bellowed from him like a banshee with a knife jammed deep between its ribs,
with sharp, high pitched wallowing screams. He shook and he shook and he shook all the more, like a
man in convulsions, like a man that was no man at all. In a blink, all went black and the next thing he
knew is that he felt rain falling all about him. In that second he knew that all had changed and nothing
would be the same ever again. All had changed forever and ever and more.
Tick, tick, tick went the clock that now lay in a mound of broken glass, once housing its contents.
The hour hand shown that two hours had passed since the time the potion was drunk. By this time
the transformation was well on its way and the doctor’s mind wasn’t even a shadow of what used to
be. Everything was different, his view of the world darkened considerably for his eyes, though much
larger, had begun to sink beneath massive brows. Standing in the shadows of the room he observed
all the equipment laying in ruins and scattered about the place. Not knowing what to make of it, he
grabbed his cloak with a hand that looked like sharp talons of some monstrous hawk and flew into the
black of night and rain, now coming down in torrents.
Many hours later, with morning approaching and light ready to expose all that he was, he bent over
with a hunch in a primeval way. He had trouble forming even a single thought, “It must be a success.
I’m sure my good friend would think better of of me if it was.” He inhaled and exhaled as best he
could, taking in the rain water along with each breath. His body had continued to change with the
night, distorting his form into a most useless state. By morning’s full light, all that remained was a
massive lump of flesh and the treasures he had collected from his one and only victim. An organ still
clutched between the fingers and talons he used to call hands. The intestines were still looped
through a button hole of his fine cloak. With his final breath he had only one thought, “The good Mr.
Hyde would have understood. Oh yes indeed he would have.”
Dr. Jeckel peered out his window that bright early morning and wondered what the all the fuss was
about? Why were the police and commoner, humming around his old friend’s house, Dr. Aldrege.
Why just yesterday afternoon they joined and had a discussion, talking thoughts about their work. So
what could this fuss be all about in front of his flat?
He dressed and made his way to the good doctor’s residence moving through the crowd of “ooing
and ahing” people. What he saw not only made him feel gravely ill but gag in the back of this throat.
At once, he knew what creature lay before him and he knew there was only one person in this world
that might understand why this misshappened being lay in a heap, as it did.. It was without question,
Mr. Hyde.
Dr. Jeckel turned on his heel and walked back to this home where his own potion was bottled.
Would tonight be a night to end his own madness and destroy what was left of his potion and diaries?
Or would tonight be another of those nights where madness seemed saner than sanity? His face
turned up to the sky and he squinted in the morning’s sun. You could see the shape of some
demonic smile edge up from the corner of his mouth. The day went on and the night drew near. At
least the people of London would feel safer on there streets because one creature was surely gone
… possibly the worse of the two.
* * *
Was science taught anything from Dr. Aldrege’s studies and experiments? Only that it was a lonely
time when you choose to tinker in places that no man should dream of, for some dreams are better
left alone. Some dreams weren’t even meant to be dreamed by madmen. Surely, this was one of
those dreams no one should have dreamt.
THE END
| Tale Eight Lonely is the Skin written by the rich cacioppo |
Drawing was added on July 8th, 2009. Page created in September 5th, 2009 Original write done in 2004. Rewrite done in September 5th, 2009. |
the mad monster maker
