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--Out of Her Head [From The Film Possibly in Michigan]-- Korban Baxter's remix

Wednesday fanfic (Major spoilers ahead)
(most of this first part is filler just to mix some of the movie logic with the original lore of the creature I chose, but also to give anyone who doesn't want this show spoiled a chance to skip out. If you've seen the finale of the show and don't really care about my lengthy exposition, just skip ahead. Most of this is really ramble-y.)

There is a character that is a Hyde. Or maybe... he has a Hyde? The terminology is unclear. His world has been unclear as of late. This is just a little vignette about him.

In the TV show, he grows into this giant monster, but the CGI was terrible and it altogether didn't make any sense given the original Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde story, so I'm going to make a couple of changes just to spice it up. So, first of all, in the show, the Hyde grows to a massive size when he turns. However, in the original story, Mr. Hyde is really really small to begin with. Also, the serum that makes Hydes was only ever drunk by Dr. Jekyll, so theoretically, only his kids should be able to be a Hyde. I'm going to mix original story logic with Wednesday logic. Let's say that someone else figured out how to make the serum (because Dr. Jekyll didn't have any children). That means that there could theoretically be more Hydes. Okay, so the woman in the show discovered what Hydes are and attempted to unlock his potential as a Hyde. That means that his activity as a Hyde must have been going on for years. Hydes are initially small, because they are a manifestation of your evilness. His Hyde is huge. Hydes grow in size the more they are used. At the end of the original story, Mr. Hyde was still about a head shorter than Dr. Jekyll despite being an active Hyde for about a year. However, I will say that this character did start early. He was not actively trying to be a good person until he found out about his Hyde, so his Hyde could have been bigger than Dr. Jekyll's to begin with. Although the transformations started out being involuntary, I think it is plausible that they could be a mix of voluntary and involuntary transformations. I also think that it's completely possible that a Hyde could either remember or not remember the transformations because of what occurred during. Hydes are very easily thrown into fits of blind rage, so although it is possible to direct that at someone, it is also possible that he could just go feral and destroy everything in his path.

That's the end of my long tangent that has no effect on the story that follows. 

Enjoy!

I woke up from another nightmare. I had turned into a monster of mass destruction. I was in a blind rage. I killed my therapist, Dr. Kinbott.

I sit back on my heels and rub my head. I've been having these dreams for a while. Each time, they've been getting more and more vivid. And I've been almost lucid for every one of them. Not exactly a lucid dream, but nearly. I can't control myself--not really--in these dreams. Wednesday was in one of these dreams, though. I didn't want to attack her, and I didn't.

My eyes flutter open in the bright morning light. The cold tile floor stings my knees and my toes. Why am I on my knees?

I trail my eyes downward. In my latest dream, I killed my therapist, Dr. Kinbott. And here she is. Lying dead.

And here I am, straddling her corpse. Funny. This was just what I was dreaming about.

It's obvious who killed her. Her blood is on my hands. Her skin is under my nails. You know, I think I would be upset if this were my first kill. I guess you could say these nightmares aren't dreams. Everything that occurs in them seems to happen as I dream it. But I can most certainly say that I am not lucid during the events of these dreams. If I were, I think I would at least be wearing clothes.

Oh no. 

I've just killed a person. Her blood is on my hands. My skin is probably under her fingers. I distinctly remember clawing her to death with my bare hands.

No, I don't. I don't remember that. It was a dream. I must have been sleepwalking or something. If I were sleepwalking, I couldn't be held accountable for this crime. That woman was kind of annoying anyway.

I stand up and look down at her body. Funny. I feel like a weight has been lifted off my chest. That's something that woman was never able to accomplish in the three years she was my therapist.

I wash my hands in the sink. I sure am covered in blood. I did a number on her. Wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of that.

The sensation I get from being this way is akin to the feeling of trashing a room while you're upset. It's easy to feel better again right after you're done. Then you get the urge again and nothing helps except destroying things. Call it coping. Call it addiction.

Lucky me! I left my jacket here last week. The big one. I pull it over my shoulders and knock on the door three times to let Ms. Thornhill know I've finished the job, then unlock the door.

She hands me my much needed change of clothes. I get dressed behind the door.

"Thank you, Tyler," she says as I pass her in the hall. "I'll take it from here."

"Of course," I beam.

I hated being a Hyde at first. You'd be amazed at how scary it is to not have control over your own body and mind. Then once you get used to it, it's worth every second.