Reader’s Choice selection from DMC’s flash fiction group, Friday Frights.
by K.L. Coones:
“And then the man said, ‘I wish to change my plea to guilty by way of ignorance’,” finished Mr. John Utterson with a wry smile. Dr. Jekyll burst into laughter in spite of the affluent surroundings, drawing glances from several high society dinners near them. Jekyll hid his mouth with his napkin, trying to stifle the rest of his laugh. As he bowed his head the reflection of his hand appeared distorted in the surface of his drinking glass, along with the beginnings of dark thick hair sprouting from the back of his hand.
“Excuse me,” choked Jekyll. Fear seized him as he tried to rise from his chair, nearly knocking it to the floor.
“Henry, are you alright!” asked Utterson, starting to rise as well. Avoiding his friends gaze, Jekyll nodded, quickly shoved his hand in his pocket and made for the washroom. Jekyll locked the door behind him and took the last few stuttering steps to the mirror. As the poor man watched, the visage staring back at him changed as the corner of its lip drew down in a malevolent sneer.
“No,” growled Jekyll. The left eye grew dark, bloodshot, and foreboding. “No!” Jekyll slammed his fists down on the wash basin causing it to rattle against the wall.
“Is everything alright in there?” Raps in quick succession jarred the door. “Sir! Sir, are you alright?” In desperation, Jekyll snatched the small hat tree and flung it at the narrow window in the wall. The glass shattered and he leapt through, barely dodging the jagged edges. The thick fog of the London streets guarded against any unwanted eyes as Jekyll stumbled back to his lab. Locking the door behind him, Jekyll staggered to the mirror again.
“What’s happening…,” he rasped. “I shouldn’t be changing!” For months his potions had inhibited the change into his horrific alter ego, the murderous Mr. Edward Hyde. The potions! Frantically, Jekyll searched for the box holding his precious potions. As he searched, Jekyll could feel himself changing within too. His calm, logical and sociable mind was slipping away, but it wasn’t as if it was being submerged beneath the roiling waters of the chaos of Hyde. This time it was different; it was as if Jekyll never existed. Further searching for the box only revealed a strange hole where the box was supposed to be. It wasn’t a hole per se, just a void of nothing; and it was growing.
Dr. Jekyll was still a scientist, however, and science would help him determine the cause and formulate a solution. Pushing aside his anger and fear as best he could, he started to analyze the situation scientifically.
“The reason we can see objects is due to the light reflected to our eye by that object,” Jekyll mused out loud. “If I cannot see into this area of void, then something is blocking the light from the other side.” From another table, Dr. Jekyll seized a magnifying device. His own design, it featured several lenses attached to arms that swung laterally to the top of the desk. He laid it over and positioned it so the lenses faced the area of void.
“Light,” he rubbed his cheek hard as he searched the lab for a light source powerful enough to penetrate the void. Rough stubble had started to grow and he could feel his jaw thickening. He didn’t have long before his transformation to Edward Hyde would be complete. “Red. Red light has the strongest wavelength.” The only thing he had was an old hooded lantern he used when working late. It could focus the light, but how could he isolate the red wavelength? Without warning, Jekyll’s spine contorted, causing him to arch his back in pain. He let out a guttural scream as he flung himself on the desk in an effort not to fall.
“Henry!” It was Utterson. “Henry, open the door man!” Pounding from Utterson’s fist shook the door on its hinges. “Henry, open this door instantly or I will call for the police!” The door shook a second time as Utterson’s fist slammed against the wood. Jekyll ignored Utterson’s pleas as he limped to an old chest pushed against the wall. Flinging open the lid Jekyll pulled out a large, red glass serving dish with a cracked edge. It was his only chance. Lighting the lantern with a match, he adjusted the opening so that it focused the light through the plate and into the stacked lenses of his magnifying device. Outside, whistles blared as policemen on horses clattered up to the house’s gate. Muffled shouting followed. Soon the men were once again at his door.
Jekyll peered through the largest lens on his device. A blurry image of a man wrapped in rags appeared.
“Dr. Jekyll, open up sir, this is the police!” Jekyll attempted to focus the image, but could coax little detail from the blurry scene. It looked like the man was holding some sort of dark colored claw or hand. The door shuddered again, almost coming off the hinges. The police were trying to break in, he only had moments to make a decision. Jekyll ran and leapt at the area of void just as the door to his lab shattered. Utterson and the police entered to find the lab empty.
“Oi, Mr. Utterson,” called one of the policemen as he searched the room. “What do you make of this sir?” Utterson had already seen it, a black void of emptiness growing larger as he watched.
“Henry, what have you done…”
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