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10th February, 1884
Dear Journal,
I feel this will be my last entry, for I am no longer a girl. All necessity for a diary was lost today when Henry took my hand in marriage. Friend, you have been with me since the days of my youth, you have been my confidant in the best and worst of times. You have observed the evolution of my relationship with the man I now call my husband, and understand that now he may serve your purpose. My Darling Henry will share my thoughts and dreams, as you have done so faithfully, henceforth. I trust that he will forever be as faithful as you have been. My sincerest thanks for your patience and understanding.
-Emma Carew
"You talk to it as though it were a person, Emma."
"Excuse me, Dr, Jekyll, but have you been reading over my shoulder?"
"I'm afraid so, Mrs. Jekyll. But you see, madam, I was afraid that I might have left your thoughts."
"Never, Henry, my love." That playful smile I hold so dear grows wider, and we embrace. Never have I been so happy as on this day. I see only happiness in front of us, and the troubling events of the recent past will soon be forgotten. Henry kisses me tenderly, and I smile at the thought of our first night as man and wife. "You will be on my mind until we perish of old age!"
"At one hundred and three, my sweet Emma. No doubt I will live a lengthy existence with you by my side." He smiles and laughs heartily, but for a moment I am sure I catch a glimpse of irony in his tone. It seems very out of place, for my sweet Henry has never use a mocking tone in my presence before. In an instant the thought is gone, however, and I take the hand of the man I love. He touches my face lovingly, and I feel myself slipping away in the recesses of those beautiful chocolate eyes. "Unfortunately, I have some brief business to attend to, my love, wedding day or not. John and I must discuss some important issues, that is, if he has not succeeded in drinking himself into a stupor at the reception." This thought of our respectable makes me laugh, and I silently thank God for returning Henry to his darling humorous self.
"Should you bid me leave for more than one hour, I will surely have to forsake you and marry Simon Stride, Henry." He returns my laughter, no doubt laughing as much at the pitiful man himself as my joke.
"Oh, Emma, he is incorrigible! Did you see the way he looked at you, even as you stood on the altar?" He playfully rests his head against my chest, gripping me around the waist. "Please, darling Emma! Please take me back! I realize Mr. Stride is twice the man I am, but can't you find it in your heart to forgive a lowly doctor?"
"Henry, stop! I'll surely fall over...Oh!" Together we tumble to the floor of the parlor, laughing like school children. Hugging ferociously, we remain on the floor for several minutes. I relish every second I spend in his arms, and as though he reads my mind, I hear Henry whisper tenderly in my ear:
"My dearest Emma, I love you more then words can convey...sweet, lovely Emma." He kisses me lightly and helps me to my feet. He brushes off his bottom, and then mischievously brushes off my own as well. I slap him jestfully, and we pause for one parting gaze into one another's eyes. "I'll return as soon as I am able."
"One hour, and no longer, Dr. Jekyll." I remind him.
"As I said, when I am able. I have business, Emma. Goodbye." At this he kisses my cheek mechanically and leaves the parlor, and I peer after him questioningly. What has happened to his playful mood? He must truly have urgent business to leave so abruptly on his wedding night, considering the priorities of most gentlemen on that eve. This is another of those times when I wish I could know what he is thinking, and see what has caused this sudden mood swing.
Although I have been able to ignore it in the weeks before the wedding, the weeks after his...depression, his jovial personality has returned lacking one major facet-continuity. Most of the time it is easy to ignore this disturbing element. Henry always acts most contented in my presence, as good natured and cheerful as the day we met. Yet sometimes, once in a great while, I catch a brief glance of something more. Like a flash of lightning cutting through the night sky, his attitude changes abruptly. It is gone almost before it is detected, and it disappears so fleetly even Henry, I'm sure, doesn't notice. But this phenomenon affects me immensely. It's like a cloud passing over the sunshine of his radiant face, and I know that whatever troubled him in the weeks he refused to see me still lingers in his soul.
I refuse to let it bother me, however, because from now on we will both be happy, this I know. And if Henry sees it fit to ignore the skeletons in his closet, then who am I to discourage it? From this moment on our life together is the only thing that matters...
It's been nearly an hour, and I happily anticipate Henry's return. After he left me I went up to his room, our room, and changed out of my restrictive wedding dress. Now I am quite comfortable in my usual attire, although I was saddened to see the dress go. I can vaguely hear Henry and John downstairs, discussing their issues quietly in the study. John has been Henry's only confidant through his ordeal, and despite my pleading he refuses to tell me anything. His only answer is "It's finally over, Emma, respect your husband's wishes and move on." But I cannot bear not knowing, which I why I slowly descend the stairs to hear their conversation. I pause outside the door to his laboratory, but it is locked and no one appears to be inside. I wonder why Henry would not choose to discuss something so confidential in his laboratory? Surely Poole will hear him in the study, if I do not, although I promptly remember that Henry's dear valet has left for the evening, in an effort to establish privacy for who he refers to as "you two darling newlyweds." At the thought of Henry's request for me to respect his privacy, I feel a pang of guilt. Should I attempt to eavesdrop on my darling husband, what kind of a wife will I make? I must be patient with him. Soon he will return to me, and we will be alone together for the first time since our brief interlude in the parlor. I can hardly wait for him to hold me in his arms throughout the night, forsaking the strict courting rituals we have been confined to during our engagement. I turn in my place and start quickly back to the bedroom; Henry will excite to see me when he returns; I know this in my heart.
Suddenly, I hear screams from the study. First a scream of pain, coming from the throat of my Dear John Utterson, followed by a primeval roar unlike any I've ever heard. Who in the world could have made that sound? What is happening? Where is Henry?
"Oh, God! What has happened? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE? Not John! My dear friend! Not him...you BASTARD!"
"Henry!" I scream, alarmed by his desperate cries of anguish. I turn again and run back to the study. "What is happening, Henry? John? What's wrong?!" As I near the door I can hear Henry gasping for breath, making small sounds of terror and disgust. Is he hurt? What has happened? My mind reels as I try not to imagine the possibilities. I reach the door and struggle with the knob, all the while screaming: "Henry! Please answer me, my darling!"
"Emma...don't open it..."
"Oh!" I swing the door open and stagger backward, reeling at the sight on the study floor. "Henry...what has happened? What have you done to him?" My eyes fill with tears as I rush to John's side, kneeling on the blood soaked carpet. He is dead, there is no mistaking it, and
As I take in the brutal portrait before me I feel a lump rise in my throat. My darling friend, Henry's trusted colleague, has been stabbed! His throat is ripped open, and his chest is covered with several bloody wounds, dying his white silk shirt a sickening crimson. As my eyes move away form the torn body in front of me, I glance for the first time at my Henry, kneeling on the opposite side of Utterson in a state of shock. His suit coat is also covered in scarlet gore, and he is staring down at the corpse of his friend, his face twisted in a grimace of pain and despair. For a moment I think he is injured as well, by the same person that has killed John. But as he starts to sob silently, I notice that he holds something in his blood-slicked hand. He is unconsciously gripping a dagger; the same knife he keeps tucked in his desk drawer for emergencies. Why does he have a knife? No, he couldn't have done it, my sweet gentle Henry! As I watch, he reaches out to touch the face of his dead comrade.
"Henry...what happened?'
"Oh Emma! What Have I done? How did this happen..." He cries, hanging his head in frustration.
"Henry, put down the dagger." I ask him calmly.
"He was gone, damned to Hell! I killed him!"
"Who darling, John? Did he attack you?" He is making no sense! I move around the cadaver and touch his shoulder gently. He ignores me; the knife still clasped in his left hand.
"I didn't...Hyde must have...No!...How could you?" He asks, speaking more to himself than me.
"Henry, please! Explain this to me!" I ask, my voice rising as I shake him out of his stupor.
"It's our wedding day... he knows...Oh Emma, I'm so sorry." He whispers, looking into my eyes for the first time. I stare back into his, searching for an answer, but they yield only sorrow. I touch my husband's face tenderly, but his eyes remain troubled...foreign.
"Henry, put down the knife, and come away from here. I'll call the constabulary, you can tell them who did this." I gently attempt to pull him off the bloody floor, but his once strong body seems to be as fragile as his mental state.
"I did it." He whispers, as if suddenly remembering what had happened. "Hyde did it."
"It couldn't be you! Why would you hurt your best friend? And who is this Hyde, Henry? You are speaking in tongues!" He stands abruptly, and I flinch, recalling the dagger in his grasp. How could my darling man take another's life?
"I must put an end to this." He looks at the weapon in his hand, and slowly raises it to eye level.
"What are you doing?"
"It's the only way to stop him..." Slowly, he begins to turn the blade on himself.
"NO!" I grab his wrist, and he strains against my panicked clutch. "Suicide will solve nothing! Talk to me! TALK TO YOUR WIFE!" At this he stops his struggle, and slowly the knife falls from his grasp.
"My darling, Emma..." He says, bursting into tears as he embraces me desperately.
"You are my husband, no matter the predicament." I hold him tightly, and after a moment: "Tell me, Henry."
"My experiments have gone terribly, Emma. I wanted to separate the evil from the good in man, I didn't know Evil has a mind of it's own."
"What are you saying?"
He lets me go but takes my hands, looking me squarely in the face. "The hospital board refused to let me pursue the truth, but I was so close! I knew that it could be done, if only I could prove it to them--if only they would let me try! I needed a human subject, but they denied my continuation...Oh Darling, can you ever forgive me? I tested the formula on myself!"
"Henry! Did you not think of the consequences? Of you fiancée? You could have died!" But when I see the apology in his eyes I calm myself. "What has this concoction done to you, my love?"
"It served its function, but too well. It's separated the halves of my soul, good from evil, two separate entities. I did not expect the outcome, that my evil side would be able to take control, but little by little I grew helpless against this beast...this thing that calls himself Edward Hyde."
"It was him that killed John, then, your evil side? You allowed it to take control of your body and kill your friend!?"
"HE HAS CONTROL OF ME, EMMA! Don't you understand? My love, how could you think for a moment that I would harm John in any way! I thought Hyde was gone, I had come to tell John so this very evening! Before the wedding, when I left my work, I was sure I had regained control...that it was over. But I see now that is what he wanted me to think, he's been inside waiting for this moment! That bastard!" Suddenly a hint of pain flickers across his face, and his eyes widen in horror. "No...not again! Emma, you must--aghhh..." Suddenly he collapses to the floor, writhing in agony. I stagger backward in shock, what is happening? Is it Edward Hyde causing my love all this pain? Can it be that monster taking control of his body? His actions? His heart?
"Emma go! Run Emma, leave this house!" He finds the strength to speak.
"I won't leave you!"
"He will kill you!"
"I won't leave you! Fight him, Henry!" As I watch his body begins to tremble, and his entire being begins to contort. It is as though two forces are engaged in and intense conflict, deep within his soul. Suddenly he stops, and he slowly gets to his feet. His face is different, the features stiff and menacing, his eyes full of hatred. He looks at me for a moment with a slight smile on his lips, and I hold my breath, not understanding what has taken place. Is this my Henry?
"He was right, you are beautiful." The man before me speaks in a deep raspy voice, laughing to himself basely.
"Edward Hyde." I hear myself speak tremulously, although I am not sure whether or not to fear this man. His mere presence fills me with terror, this is true, but I know that my Henry is somewhere inside. He strides towards me languidly, pausing in front of me, perusing me as though I were a piece of meat.
"Imagine, little old Edward Hyde, married to such a vision."
"I am NOT your wife!" I scream, furious at this invasion of our sacred bond of marriage. "I married Henry Jekyll, he is the man I love!"
"And don't we all love Henry? Such a wonderful chap, and so decent." Smiling, he comes closer still, taking my face in his hands. I am paralyzed with fear, but I cannot bring myself to look away from those eyes, the eyes that once belonged to my husband. "And as I've said, he has such a wonderful taste in women..." At this he kisses me, and I turn my head I disgust, close to tears.
"Henry, don't let him do this." I speak quietly, clinging to my belief that my Husband must be somewhere inside this beast.
"Dr. Jekyll is out at the moment, but I'll tell him you beseeched his presence." His grin grows wider, and his hands migrate downwards. "Tisk, tisk, Emma-kissing another man on your wedding night! Henry will be upset, although he must realize by now that I am so much more attractive then he is!" At this he erupts into a loud and sinister cackle. I lunge to escape his grasp, but he pins me up against the desk, pressing his body against mine fiercely. Holding my arms at my sides, he begins to kiss my neck as he speaks: "First I...eliminated John...and now his own wife...is in my embrace..." He reaches my lips with his own, and he entrances me with his eyes. I can hear the evil dripping from his voice as he whispers lasciviously: "There are so many alternatives to death when you wish to cause someone suffering, my darling Emma." He kisses me deeply, and I try to imagine it is truly Henry, not this monster he has become. I can not, however, forget those lurid eyes that burn in my memory. "And your darling Henry will know all of them well when I am through with him."
My mind races, desperately trying to think of an escape method. I immediately understand the hopelessness of running for the front door. Hyde will catch me before I am able to lift the heavily latch and unlock it, if not before that, in the hallway. If I run, he will surely kill me, most likely with the same weapon he used on his friend. However, fleeing this devil is not the issue at hand, considering my position at the moment. As Hyde forces his body against mine, I know there is no way that I could ever elude his strength. My arms remain firmly planted by my sides, and as the lips of this libidinous beast smother my neck, I realize the futility of struggling. There is no way to escape the roaming hands of this creature, this hideous personification of the evil lurking in my husbands heart-or is there?! As my darling father has told me time and again, "Emma, in life, the only way to solve a problem is to see it through the eyes of someone who doesn't see it as a problem." Of Course! Perhaps my father's words of wisdom will prevail, if I can supply a convincing façade...
"Oh Edward...its such a pity Henry doesn't let you out more often." At this he stops his slobbering, and looks me squarely in the eyes.
"What was that, Darling?" He snarls hungrily, barely able to contain his lust.
"Good may be respectable, but Evil is so much more...passionate." I pry my hands away from his firm grasp, and as he stares at me suspiciously I take his frightening face in my hands. I shiver at the feel of his skin, but somehow I find the courage to kiss him gently on the cheek, whispering into his ear: "I've been waiting so long for my wedding night, and now my husband is gone. What is a girl to do?" His mouth curls into a strange snarl, and as leans towards my face, I do my best to accept his kiss willingly. I am frightened out of my mind by his urgency, yet I feel myself letting go, succumbing to his warmth as I've waited to for so long. Emma, this is not your husband! This is a monster! His frenzied hands grab hold of my bodice, ripping the fabric as though it was a rag. Get away before you lose control of the situation! "No need...for the...rush, Edward!" I practically shout as I fend off his aggression, but my face wears a devious smile to hide my alleviation. "Look at the mess on the floor, how dreadfully unromantic!" I reel as I hear myself refer to John's corpse as the MESS! I will my tears away, knowing that surely Edward Hyde will burn in hell for the pain he has caused in this world!
"I suppose so..." He mumbles, dumbfounded. I can see that he is growing very impatient, a look of anger is rapidly clouding his deep brown eyes.
"I have something especially for this occasion, Darling, to wear on my wedding night. Give me a few moments to prepare." I break free of the hands the are clamped on my hips. "I'll just change, I'm sure you'll find it very...stimulating." I touch his icy cheek with my hand once again, and to complete the effect, I kiss him again before I leave, fervently wiping my lips as I leave the study. He laughs vilely behind me, and slams his fist into the hard wood desk.
"Hurry up, Love."
As I exit the study I breathe an audible sigh of relief, my body shuddering from fear and revulsion. My plan is working swimmingly, although I cannot understand why this intelligent man does not see through it. Surely he must notice the awkwardness of my sudden change of heart-unless he is choosing to ignore it, or stringing me along. In any case it really doesn't matter, for the outcome will be the same, and it is my job to determine what that outcome will be. I climb the stairs with no intention of changing my clothes or obeying this imposter, just thankful of the chance to escape his touch and to think clearly. What can I do? I realize my luck in escaping his ardor in the first place, but he'll be seeking me out in a moment, no doubt as ravenous as ever...
I enter the room that, until tonight, Henry and I were destined to share, and I begin to cry at the sight of my wedding dress on the bed. I shut the door and slump onto the bed, looking down at my blood-spattered skirt and torn corset. I am out of ideas, courage, and reasons to fight this beast, and my darling Henry is gone forever. Now I'm sobbing uncontrollably, and I stand and cross the room to retrieve a handkerchief form Henry's chiffonnier. My sight is blurred from tears, and I rummage through his undershirts and personal effects, my sadness increasing with each memory these things arouse. I finally find the drawer containing his handkerchiefs, and resting atop these is a small paper heart, and it recalls a memory of exchanging similar tokens on our first Valentine's Day together. I smile and touch it gently, it is a bit crumpled, and the edges are faded... "Oh my darling Henry!" I sob, turning the heart in my fingers and discovering the message written in my handwriting on the other side of the paper. It is the heart I had given him so long ago, when we were practically children! Has he kept it all this time?
Suddenly I am filled with anger, anger towards Henry for having done
this to himself, anger towards myself for having let him slip away! But
mostly I am filled with anger and hatred towards Edward Hyde, the bastard
that had killed my love and extinguished my will to live. I reach into
the drawer to grab a handkerchief,
but my hand clasps something hard, not a cloth. Wiping my eyes, I stare
at the item I have uncovered, a small revolver. A gun in my husband's bureau?
I remove the weapon from the dresser and hold it uncomfortably in my hands;
not sure of why Henry would have such a thing. Perhaps he had contemplated
suicide before tonight, perhaps he was aware of Hyde's quest for total
control. Regardless of his motivation for owning a gun, I was certainly
thankful he had one at this moment. Edward Hyde would not be taking advantage
of me anymo-
"I grew tired of waiting." Hyde grunts angrily as he slams open the
door. Immediately I am filled with panic, despite the weapon I hold in
my hand. I stand motionless, facing away from him, as he walks slowly towards
me chuckling to himself. "I see you've found our toy. Your pathetic Dr.
Jekyll thought a suicide
threat would keep me in check. Unfortunately for him I didn't think
him serious for a moment, I received all the courage in our...arrangement."
He continues towards me, and I feel my hands tightening on the weapon.
Surely he knows I have it, why does he not stop? Does he think me that
incapable of using a gun on another? Am I capable of shooting this thing
hiding in the shell of my Husband? "I must tell you Emma, I myself thought
of using that revolver in killing Mr. Utterson, don't you think the irony
would have been...delicious?" As he speaks that word he slides his hands
around my waist once again, his head resting on my shoulder. Although I
cannot see his face, I know he is completely unafraid of me. But with firm
resolution I decide to use the gun, to spare my love form the atrocities
of this monster. My finger tightens on the trigger, and I take a deep breath,
preparing myself for the sight of my Husband lying dead by my own-
"Of course, to kill my dear friend with a revolver would require bullets, Dear Emma, something that our Henry's gun is not equipped with."
For a moment, I am sure that my heart has stopped, and that I will leave this world long before Hyde can have his way with me. Yet as I hear his laughter roaring in my ear, my heart begins to beat fervently once again. My body goes weak, the revolver clatters to the floor, and the sound echoes in my ears like church bells tolling at a funeral. Hyde's hands slide across my stomach, and I hear myself whisper "Please, Henry..."
"Did you really think I was that stupid?" He asks, his voice growing
stronger with each word. "That I would believe you had truly forsaken you
husband? At a hundred and three, Dear Emma, no doubt I will live a lengthy
existence with you by my side." Hyde had been with us all along,--at the
wedding, in the study, waiting for the perfect moment to make his entrance!
He drags me towards the bed, all the while laughing obscenely, and throws
me atop my wedding dress. Climbing on beside me, he looms over me with
a vulpine grin. "Oh Emma, when I'm done with you, you will wish you had
forsaken him a long time ago." He
leans in for a kiss, but I turn my head away, desperately trying to
avoid the inevitable, praying that my love can still hear me from inside
his world of darkness...
"Henry, do you remember our first meeting?" I ask wearily.
"Edward, Emma. A name your certain to remember after tonight." He continues undaunted.
"My father thought he was exceedingly clever switching the place cards so that we might be next to one another."
"Stop it, Emma!" He shouts, visibly irritated. "Jekyll is gone! I'm your husband now."
"Your parting kiss to my cheek was the first I'd ever received from a man."
"Speak no more, Emma!" He says leaning in once again, but again I turn my head. "You'll soon forget that peck silly peck on the cheek!"
"You're the only man I've ever loved, Henry." I continue calmly.
"STOP IT! Just stop it, you ignorant Bitch! There is no Henry Jekyll, ONLY EDWARD HYDE!" He slaps me hard across the face, and I feel tears welling up in my eyes. I know, however, that my words are getting to him more he discloses. Somewhere in there, Henry must hear me, and He must know my love for him, despite the actions of his evil counterpart. Hyde turns my face towards his and kisses me full on, suffocating me with his volatile breath. When he retreats I speak into his face:
"Henry, my love, do not allow him to do this."
"THAT'S IT!" Hyde screams, reaching into his pocket and withdrawing the dagger from the study. "You WILL be quiet, Emma, do you understand me?" He raises the dagger over his head, and I close my eyes tightly, willing death to take me quickly.
"Not Emma...you bastard..." I hear a familiar voice speak from above me.
"Henry?" My eyelids shoot open, and the body with the dagger poised above my chest once again resembles that of my loving husband. "Oh, Darling! I was sure you were dead...Henry?" His eyes remain those of my love, but his face contorts one again into that evil grin.
"Look at yourself, Henry! Look at what you're about to do!" Hyde screams with relish in his voice.
"Never, Hyde! You WILL NOT touch her again, so help me God!" His hands shake straining from the will of both occupants of this broken body.
"WATCH YOURSELF, HENRY! Watch her die by your own hands!"
"Bastard...never..." The shaking weapon hovers over my chest ominously, although my eyes are frozen on Henry's, focused on the internal struggle that is taking place.
"Face it, Henry! You lose! You CAN'T KILL ME! I cannot be stopped!"
"But I can be!" Henry screams, tearing the knife away from my bosom and plunging it deep into his own.
"Henry! NO! Oh God, my love, my Husband!" I lunge forward to catch his fallen body, holding him to me tightly, as though my will for him to live is enough to sustain him.
"Emma...my Love..." He gasps, his eyes meeting mine for the first time in what seems like eternity.
"Don't speak, darling." I weep, lowering him gently to the bed, his ruby-colored blood flowing across the lace of my wedding gown. "Rest now, my tormented love." His eyelids flutter shut, depriving me forever of his loving gaze.
"It's over...all over..."
"Shhhhh, sleep peacefully in my embrace." I lie next to him on our bed, and wrap my arms around his dying body, my cheek to his. "Say will be with me always, Henry. Never leave my side."
"My darling Emma...love knows no boundaries..." His last words travel faintly on his dying breath, but they ring clearly in my head. As I lay weeping in my love's final embrace, I feel as though he is with me still, savoring the silence of our first, and last, night as man and wife.
"Goodnight, Henry."