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Never in his entire existence had Henry Jekyll seen a more beautiful
vision. The church seemed to glow when the double doors were parted,
and his beautiful, perfect . . . angel walked through the doors. Her
dress, the decorations in the church, the flowers . . . all had nothing
to do with it.
To him there was only her face, her incredible sparkling eyes and the
smile he held so dear. Slowly coming towards him, she looked as though
she
was floating along the isle, like a vision of some ethereal being.
Her eyes locked on his, and for the first time Jekyll was truly and utterly
unable to look
away. Soon she was beside him, and he felt her hand brush his with
such tenderness it drove him wild! The choir music ceased, beautiful harmonies
that seemed to have little to do with anything but the love they shared
. . . like it had been written for them alone, and wrongly suited for any
other
function. The newfound silence of the church brought Jekyll out of
his isolated haze and he suddenly began to feel terribly nervous. Turning
to face the
priest, he could feel the eyes of the entire congregation upon him.
"Dearly beloved, we are gathered
here in the sight of God to join together this man and this woman in holy
matrimony . . . ." Emma glanced at
Henry discreetly. He was staring intently at the priest as he spoke.
She fought back a smile, knowing he truly could care less about the same
old
wedding speech, but that in truth he was afraid to look at her. During
their wedding rehearsal, the two had several times missed their cues, too
busy
whispering to one another or gazing contently into each other's face.
Her father had been none too pleased with their childish behavior, and
had openly
admonished Henry's inability to look away from Emma's face for more
than a moment. Her father had meant it mainly in jest, but Henry had heeded
this warning. During the next run-through, he had maintained a steady-albeit
mockingly stern and rigid--gaze at the cross above the altar, despite her
playful tugging at his arm . . .
" . . . If any man can show just
cause that these two can give just cause why they can not be lawfully joined
together, let him now speak, or
else hereafter forever hold his peace . . . " Jekyll could hardly believe
the wedding was finally underway! He had truly conquered the demons that
coursed through his soul, extinguished the primitive flame that burned
so brightly in Edward Hyde's every action. He was filled with utter and
unrefined happiness for the first time in his entire existence. He
felt complete, he felt giddy, he felt . . . he felt . . . strange . . .
"Henry John Albert Jekyll, do you take this woman, Emma Alice Margaret Carew . . . "
As she glanced at her love, she
was puzzled to see a look of obliviousness on his face. His eyes seemed
very far away and slowly his brow
creased in a grimace of pain. He staggered forward slightly, reaching
out his arm blindly, searching for stability-stability he found in the
concerned
support of his dear friend, and best man, John Utterson.
"Henry! What is it?" He asked quietly, frightened.
"To be your lawfully wedded wife
. . ." the minister continued uncertainly. Emma turned to Henry now, reaching
out to him as he began
taking in air in desperate uneven gasps. At the sight of his pain stricken
face, her heart leapt in her chest, and her eyes filled with tears. What
was
wrong?
"Oh God, not now . . . Oh God not
now!" He chanted in panic, close to tears himself. His legs suddenly gave
way, and he collapsed against
the grasp of his friend weakly. "Help me . . . someone please help
me . . . please take the pain away . . . " He doubled over, falling to
his knees
roughly. As the entire congregation stared in shock at the events on
the altar, his voice began to rise . . . until he was screaming in agony.
Emma tried
again to touch him, to comfort her tormented love, but again he jerked
away from her hand. "I can feel him . . . THIS WILL KILL ME . . . Oh GOD
.
. . don't let her see this . . . not . . . on . . . our . . . wedding
. . .day . . . " Suddenly his scream was choked off, and he struggled to
his feet,
desperately trying to get away. He managed only three steps, however,
before he collapsed face down in the isle, and lay motionless on the floor.
"Henry!" Emma cried, tears streaming
down her face. Yet she did not move-no one in the parish moved or made
a sound. Jekyll's face was
almost completely hidden by his black locks, and appeared to be unconscious,
or worse. The first to move was Simon Stride, secretary of the Board.
He approached the fallen doctor with concern, yet his air of superiority
still lingered in his gait. He slowly knelt by the doctor, but before he
could
touch him a female voice piped up from the congregation.
"Don't touch him, he may be hurt!"
Helena St. Just called as she fought her way through the crowd to the altar.
She herself had tears upon her
cheeks, but her eyes were clear and alert, and full of concern. Stride
looked at her with a negating glance and continued to reach out to the
doctor. "Mr.
Stride! Leave him be!" She called again, finally arriving at the doctor's
side. Then quietly, more to herself as she knelt beside Stride, "Oh Henry,
look
what you've done to yourself . . . all your stress . . . " She reached
out to remove the hair covering his face, and as his face was revealed
she gasped
and rose, stepping back. "Oh no, not this . . ." She whispered, silently
gripping Simon Stride's shoulder, pulling him to his feet.
"What is it, Ms. St. Just? Unhand
me!" Stride shouted angrily, "What has come over y-" Suddenly Jekyll leapt
to his feet, grabbing Stride by
his neck and tossing him aside like a sack with a sickening snap. He
spoke in a deep raspy voice, to the horror of his trembling fiancee.
"Ahhh, Mr. Stride." He said as
he looked down at the fallen man in disgust. "I trust you are respectfully
recording the order of business!" He
laughed then, and insane cackle, throwing his head back. Helena began
to back away, but---lightening quick-his hand shot out and grabbed her
arm,
pulling her against his chest violently.
"In God's name, Dr. Jekyll!" Sir
Danvers shouted, putting a comforting arm around his daughter, who shrugged
him off unconsciously. She
stood frozen in disbelief, tears streaming down her pale cheeks. Her
fiancee wrapped his arms forcefully around Helena, one of his hands resting
tensely on her throat. Emma could not tear her eyes away from the helpless
look on her dear friend's face, Helena who seemed to know what was
happening.
"There is no Henry Jekyll . . .
only EDWARD HYDE!" He screamed wildly, his eyes aflame with fury. Utterson
leap forward, drawing his
dagger hesitantly. "NO! No one touches Hyde, or she dies before God!"
He screamed, his hand tightening its grasp. Utterson remained frozen to
his
place, hearing the truth in Hyde's voice. He spoke softly, with great
calmness:
"So this is what's become of you
experiments, Dr. Jekyll . . . this is what you've let yourself become."
He took another step forward, his
gaze unwavering from the eyes of the madman before him. "Hyde, let
her go, she has done nothing to you."
"Exactly!" Hyde growled, kissing
Helena's neck roughly. "All though Lord knows I tried . . . didn't I?"
He whispered in her ear, loud
enough for the entire congregation to hear. She shuddered violently
. . . turning her face away from him, her eyes meeting Emma's in a silent
plea.
"Mr. Hyde, let her go!" Utterson shouted, stepping forward yet again.
"Drop the knife, Mr. Utterson!
We wouldn't want someone to get cut . . . " He said laughing vilely, revealing
a small knife hidden in his own
pocket. He slowly raised it up to Helena's neck, the blade gleaming
in the candlelight. The church was dead silent as Utterson threw the knife
away,
sending it clattering into the shadows of the altar.
"Henry . . . please." A small voice
echoed through the church, a voice of love and reason. "It is our wedding
day . . . don't leave me here
alone . . . " Emma spoke almost in a whisper, moving out of the shadows.
Sir Danvers reached for her, but she shook his hand away, still approaching
the man who, until moments ago, was her reason for living.
"It's Hyde, Emma . . . you always
were a little daft." He laughed again, his hand reaching out to touch her
face. He slapped her on the cheek
playfully, "Don't you worry, you'll be next." As he spoke, the tip
of the knife drew a breathtakingly scarlet drop of blood from Helena's
neck, causing
the room to gasp. She began to shake, causing the blood to smear against
the paleness of her throat; and become diluted by her trail of tears.
"No! Mr. Hyde . . . Edward, please . . . spare her life. I am your bride, take me instead."
"Emma, don't . . . " Helena whispered, begging her friend to understand the futility of the situation.
"Please." Emma whispered again,
seeing a flash of brilliance across her loves darkened features . . . and
a grin of wickedness. "Spare her life,
Hyde. If you've killed my love, you may kill me as well." With an air
of calmness, she took another step forward. Her eyes met his for uncountable
moments, searching within his soul for a bit of her Henry Jekyll, a
bit of the man she loved . . . he was gone, and what she found in his place
was the
personification of evil: Edward Hyde. In a flash, he sent Helena crashing
to the floor, Utterson pulling her to her feet, embracing her tenderly.
"Come to me, Emma . . . my bride."
He said quietly, the knife still gleaming in one hand; he beckoned to her
with the other. Silently she took
it, the other held shyly away from him. Without a word she met his
gaze, embraced him, and gently laid a kiss upon his lips. "Oh . . . what's
this?" He
said, with genuine awe and passion.
"Forgive me, Henry, if you are
still inside this beast . . . " She whispered, and as Hyde growled in anger
and lunged at her with the knife, she
drove Utterson's discarded dagger deep into his chest, sending a streak
of blood across his white tuxedo. "Oh God help me!" She shouted, watching
the expression on his face change from one of fury to pain and fear.
"Emma . . . " He murmured, staggering
blindly forward, reaching out for her support, which wasn't nearly strong
enough to support his limp
and failing body. The two fell to the floor, she cradling his head
in her arms, sobbing wildly . . . knowing she had just killed her true
love. "I'm so
sorry . . . " He whispered . . . his body shaking violently, his eyelids
fluttering shut. "I love you . . . "
"NO! Don't you DARE leave me here
alone . . . don't leave me here without you, Henry! I want only to be with
you . . . " She leaned over his
shuddering body, clutching him tightly, kissing his face. Her tears
spilled onto his cheeks, mingling with the tracks of his own sadness.
"Look out! Get out of my way, I'm
a doctor . . . Emma, please, let him go! Emma . . . you're but making it
worse!" Helena was at his side in
an instant, fresh tears wetting her cheeks. Sir Danvers silently picked
his hysterical daughter off the floor, out of the arms of her dying husband
. . .
her dress soaked in his blood.
"Father, I killed him . . . "She
whispered, in shock. He turned her head away, holding her close. Silently
she submitted to his embrace, void
of any ability to watch her fiancee depart this world.
"No you didn't, Emma." Helena spoke
from the floor. "Henry's not dead yet . . . "