EXPEDITION: An Unmatched Fanfiction

Chapter Nine: Mr. Hyde

After all the guests left the party, Dr. Jekyll ordered Poole to arrange a room for King Arthur to sleep in. Arthur again offered to leave since the doctor had already been so kind to him, but Dr. Jekyll insisted that Arthur stay the night.

He laid on his temporary bed, covered by the darkness of the night. A sole window let in a miniscule amount of light, but since the moon was only a faint sliver in the sky, all Arthur could see was the general shape of the objects in the room. These shapes haunted King Arthur. Though he realized that they were inanimate decorations sitting idly in the room, they appeared to waver and flicker as if they were ghostly beings.

Arthur knew his mind was playing tricks like this only because he was incredibly uneasy. His conversation with Mr. Utterson left him confused about Dr. Jekyll's true character. He wondered if he was really letting him stay the night out of the goodness of his heart, or if he had some darker intention, maybe one involving this infamous Mr. Hyde he was told about. Usually, he would not be so unnerved by such trivial affairs, but he was shaken by this entirely new environment.

Laying silently in the dark room let his thoughts on the matter wander further into paranoia. His mind was still hung up on the idea that he was somehow in England, though he had never seen it look this way before. Not knowing if he was even in the same dimension as he was in only a day before did not help put his thoughts at ease. Instead, everything was heightened. Every speck of dust bumping into a wall sounded like an enemy knocking on the door, every stray fleck of moonlight looked like a threatening gleam from a sword above his head. He had never felt so anguished in his life.

Then, he heard a loud creaking. At first, he could not tell if the creaking was as incredibly ear-splitting as it sounded, or if it was just his mind playing another trick on his senses. His eyes darted to the door to see that it was opened. The candlelight in the hallway silhouetted a figure standing in the doorway so Arthur could not see any details of the man, but what he was able to see put him on edge. The man wore clothes that were ill-fitting of him, and though he could not see the features of his face, he gave off the impression of deformity without any noticeable malformations. He was short, almost dwarfish, but his presence crowded the room with a despicable aura of animalistic cruelty.

Shivers creeped down Arthur's spine as he looked at the silhouette from his bed. He had encountered many large, fearsome beasts, but never had one brought him to such a base level of childlike fright. Yet, he would not let himself freeze up in the face of danger. He bent his knees slightly, readying to leap from the bed when it became necessary.

The man took quick steps into the room. He was oddly light on his feet, but his presence drawing closer thickened the air around him. Arthur pretended to be asleep, keeping his eyes squinted so that he could see the true intentions of this sneaky intruder. Now that he was closer, Arthur could see the details of his face better. He was disgusted just looking at the man. He bore a face not even a mother could love, and his mischievous mien proved that he loved any sort of hatred directed his way.

At this distance, Arthur was also able to observe that the man was wielding an axe. He held it lazily in one hand, carrying it casually as if it were a walking stick. The light against its blade shone distinctly in different areas, indicating the axe had been used many times before. For what purpose, Arthur could only imagine.

The man slowly moved his arm so he could firmly grasp the weapon with both hands, then deliberately began to raise it high above his head. From the few glimpses Arthur could discern in the darkness, the man was reveling this moment. It was not the first time he had killed, and his crooked smile suggested he got a great deal of enjoyment from it.

The axe swung down. Arthur sprung up from the bed, narrowly avoiding a swift beheading. He quickly landed on his feet and grabbed Excalibur, which was placed by his bedside, ready for any challenger. He readied himself in a battle stance and held his sword outward, the tip of the blade pointed accusatorily at his new foe. Now that he was standing with full consciousness, he was able to determine a few more of his enemy's disgusting traits. What stood out the most, still, was his wicked smile, curled into a despicable sneer. He did not seem to be disappointed by his failed first swing, but rather titillated by the fact that his prey is willing to put up a fight.