chapter 1: the search begins

Gabriel Utterson leaned back in his chair, seated in front of his work desk. He glanced down, looking upon the desk to see the will of Dr. Henry Jekyll, with its strange clauses and all. Adjacent to the will was a small glass vial with an acidic green liquid within, glistening in the firelight.

Now, these two items may not seem to have any form of connection. Which could very much be the case. However, Mr. Utterson believed there to be something more to this. You see, the vial of strange and probably dangerous liquid had come from the lab of Dr. Jekyll, which Utterson had obtained. He now had this... potion?.. of unknown use, and hoped to find some way to connect this to his case involving Mr. Hyde. It was a stretch, to say the least, but it was something.

There was concern for his friend, due to this whole business with Mr. Hyde. He suspected some form of blackmail, something to force Jekyll to put him in this situation with the will. Utterson recently had an encounter with this man, hoping to shed some light on the subject, but was only left more confused.

His attempts to find information from Jekyll's lab only led to finding a half full vial of some strange concoction. Why he had took it, he wasn't sure himself, but maybe, just maybe he would find some way to make use of it, connect it to this case. There was a brief moment where he considered drinking it, but he quickly came to his senses that that was a horrible idea, so that was off the table. For now. 

Pushing himself out of his seat, he began pacing around the room, rubbing his temples, trying to get his mind to come up with something. The room was quiet, save for his steps upon the floor, echoing about.

Nothing seemed to line up. Why would Jekyll leave all his wealth and possessions to this strange and unknown man? In an earlier meeting, Jekyll had told Utterson that he trusted this man, and wanted Utterson to as well. While he couldn't say he trusted Mr. Hyde, he promised to support him if ever the need ever arose.

As his mind drifted back to the potion, he still attempted to tie it to the bigger picture. While it could just be another one of Jekyll's experiments, he had a feeling that it was more than that.

Stepping towards his desk, he lifted the vial to eye level, his reflection staring back at him through the glass. The green tincture swirled and bubbled within its container, as if trying to free itself from his grasp. The acidic color was only accentuated by the moonlight, making it appear as if it were glowing. Or perhaps it wasn't just a trick of the light, and it truly did emit some light of its own.

With a sigh, he let his hands fall to his sides, potion resting in his grip. There was probably no point in this, whatever experiment this was was most likely completely unrelated to Mr. Hyde. He was just desperate for answers to this mystery, grasping at straws by now.

Absentmindedly, he fiddled with the cap of the vial, accidentally having wiggled it off. He soon became aware of the stench that filled the air around him, emanating from the tincture in his hand. 

He went to close it up again, before pausing for a moment, staring at the potion. All of his focus had been diverted to it, almost in a trance. The cold glass pressed against his fingertips, the smell of it bubbling up towards his nose.

Perhaps if he drank it, just a sip, it would reveal something that would make sense of this whole mystery. It seemed irrational, but... maybe, there was a chance. There was also a chance that this would kill him outright, but he didn't seem to think of that in the moment.

Whatever was in this potion seemed to be compelling Utterson to drink it as he stared into it, watching it swirl around in circles within its containment.

He lifted the potion once again, against all reason, brought it to his lips. Before he knew it, the contents of the vial were gone. It was too late by the time it had slid down his throat for him to turn back, as he came back to his senses and realized this was a horrible idea.

Nothing had immediately happened, only the lingering taste of something salty on his tongue. The panic started to settle in as he stood in his study, staring at the now empty vial in his hand. Why did he do that? He had no idea what that tincture could do, how it could effect him. It could be poison for all he knew.

Once again pacing back and forth, footsteps increasing in speed, Utterson waited anxiously for something to happen. He was feeling fine enough, apart from the rising nausea, which he assumed was due to his increasing fear.

He soon noticed his legs shaking, struggling to hold him up. Collapsing into his chair across the room, he dropped the glass container to his side and waited for something, if anything, to happen.

Luckily, there wasn't too much of a wait before the excruciating pain coursing through his bones to overtook him. Clutching his sides, muscles tense, he attempted to ignore the pain. Dear god, this was how its was going to end, wasn't it? This is how he would die, alone, by his own fault. What would become of him, of his legacy?

While Gabriel was struggling against his own body, hands gripping the armchair for support, he wasn't able to notice that his hair seemed to shift in color, limbs condensing in size, reshaping into a new form.

Why was he still writhing here, not yet gone? Was this fate's punishment for his actions, to drag this torture out for at long at it could before he died? He was nearly on the floor by this point, waiting for it, either his life or this pain, to be over. His muscles had stretched, condensed, everything they aren't supposed to do, leaving him in this unraveled state.

Then suddenly, it all came to a stop. Gabriel was sat there, still heavily breathing, yet alive. A wave of relief washed over him. All of the pain he had just experienced was now gone, almost forgotten, muscles relaxing as he sunk into his chair with a sigh.

How long did that last? The time stretched on for what felt like hours, but it couldn't have been that long, could it? Quickly glancing over to the clock within his study, it appeared it had only been a few minutes, if he remembered correctly.

Attempting to stand, he barely made it up without a bit of a wobble. It seemed he was still quite effected from the previous events.

He still felt quite disoriented from this whole situation, and spent his time re-familiarizing himself with his surroundings. Everything felt slightly off, like a lucid dream. It all even seemed brighter than it had before.

Stumbling over to his desk, he fell into his chair and stared at what was laid upon his desk. So much for finding any evidence, now that he had consumed what he was hoping to use. He sighed, brushing off the problem as if it were nothing. Whatever had happened seemed to have made all of his stress about the situation vanish, leaving him without much of a plan.

There were some options he could think of, such as continuing his search for Mr. Hyde, though that may be a bit difficult after their first interaction. He drummed his fingers on the table, losing himself in thought.

It took much to long to notice, but he soon caught a glimpse of his hand, or at least what he assumed was his hand, since it looked nothing like his own. He stopped tapping his fingers to get a better look. They looked barely human, Gabriel noted as he inspected them, they were clawed, covered in some scaly like material.

They weren't human, no, not at all. He tried poking it with his other strange looking hand, though didn't feel much. He stared in confusion, mumbling to himself. Was that potion some kind of hallucinogenic?

Dropping his hands into his lap, he decided to ignore that for now. His eyes wandered around the room as he festered in his confusion from everything. This had to be some trick, he reasoned, some effect the potion had on his mind. Not that it mattered in the moment, there wasn't anything he could do.

He stood, more stable than he was before, and wandered across the room. What was he to do now? Not with anywhere in particular he meant to go, he ended up at his window, staring out into the night. In the glass, however, he caught a glimpse of a face he didn't recognize in the reflection.

Staring at this unfamiliar reflection, which couldn't have been him, he knew what his face looked like, and that wasn't it. Despite this, however, he couldn't shake the feeling that it was, somehow, his own face starting back.

Shaking the thoughts out of his head, he looked out into the street to distract himself, hands on the edge of the windowsill. The few lights still lit were scattered about, the moonlight blotted out by the fog. It was quite nice to behold, a striking difference to what had occurred within this building that night.

As he took in the sights of nighttime London, he soon caught himself starting to nod off, eyelids feeling heavy. All that had happened, paired with the late night, had exhausted him. He could probably fall asleep where he was standing if he didn't catch himself.

Tearing his gaze from the outside, he stretched, letting out some noise that was somewhat akin to that of a birds chirp as he did so. Strange, but he didn't have the energy to question it by now.

Exiting his study, he was once again hit with that odd sense of something off around him that he had become adjusted to before. Must be some side effect of the drug.

Every footstep he made cause some loud creak, scratch, or thump and he made his was to his quarters. The sounds seemed to pierce his ears in this state, giving him something of a headache.

Once he had arrived, he threw himself onto the bed, sleep nearly claiming him then and there, though he was able to keep himself awake for a bit longer to ponder the events of this night.

It was all quite strange, wasn't it? This potion, this case, it all was, really. And yet he kept getting himself wrapped up in all this, even if it was in his better interest to keep himself away. He was to involved now to leave at this point.

Whatever was going on, he would deal with in the morning to come.