Jekyll's Journey

"Wake up, Harriet..."

A voice rang deep from Harriet's subconscious. Opening her eyes, she found herself in her own mind; personified to her wishes, loves, and desires. To what she dreamed of. In the middle of the large, spacious room that was covered from top to bottom with patterns and fabrics of different kinds was her.

Elizabeth Hyde.

The mental monstrosity that she, Harriet Jekyll, had created with an amplified version of the HJ-7 serum; the same serum Henry Jekyll, her great great grandfather, had used to create Edward Hyde.

For this special dream, Harriet was dressed in a somewhat professional outfit. She was wearing a deep velvet suit that kept her warm and comfortable. Elizabeth, however, was in a very dark yet fitting London outfit that she would always wear on her nights out. A strictly black suit, slightly worn out from the years of it being used, a slightly torn cloak that had hung from the collars of her shirt to the floor, and a top hat with a deep red bow tied around the cylinder shape. She had a filled wine glass in her hand and was sitting at a coffee table in a large armchair.

"Sit down, Harriet. We have some things to discuss." She spoke deeply, having a toothy smile.

Hesitantly, Harriet sat down in her chair that had appeared before her. "Well, Hyde... I am here. What... What did you want to discuss about?"
She glanced to the side, taking a sip from her glass. "I had always wanted to know about this... Henry Jekyll you always praise about. Who is he? You never talk about him to me. Do you not trust me when you mention him?"

Her heart dropped for a moment, seeing a dark shade of irritation and jealousy behind Elizabeth. "He's..." She sighed, scratching her head. "...he's my grandfather. Great great grandfather. My parents used to talk about him and how they always heard good tidings that came from his work. He always gave to churches, charities, donation drives, all of these events! But... never talked about the depression and isolation he went through near the end of his life..."

Elizabeth's eyes widened in surprise for a moment, then settled down to a somewhat harsh glare. "...is he the reason why you never talk to me when you have free time?" She growled. "This is outrageous... and he's your GREAT GREAT grandfather?! For God's sake, he's dead now! Why praise and gush over a dead man?! Stop beating the dead horse, Harriet, you won't get anything out of this!"
At this point, Elizabeth had slammed her wine glass down, shattering it to pieces and letting the liquid spill everywhere. It scared Harriet for a moment, watching her stand up in place and having metaphorical lightning flash behind her, expressing the anger and jealousy in her eyes. Clearing her throat, Harriet kept her posture still and calm.

This was familiar. She had dealt with this anger before, both from her parents and from Elizabeth especially.

"He's a man of works, Elizabeth. Books of science, mathematics, history... all of them have been written or informed by people who have passed."

"He is a man who has blocked me out of your thoughts, Harriet! I'm still apart of your mind! I know every little detail you think of, every little wish you speak of, every desire and want your heart needs! And you dare push me out over a dead relative?!"

Harriet stood up from her chair, walking to the door behind her that formed out of thin air. "If you cannot be cooperative, Elizabeth, I have to leave. I can't stand your jealousy any more, and I won't let it infect my thoughts this evening. Good night."

With a shriek of rage, the door shut behind her, and the young scientist was sent through a portal of what seemed to be a never ending drop. It didn't take long for her to awake back up in her bed, clinging onto the covers that she was covered in.

She was still there, fully intact. No scratches or bites that she would've given herself during the transition of dreaming to waking up, nothing.
A sigh wavered out of her mouth. "Oh, dear Elizabeth..." She groaned, slowly slipping out of bed. "I hope you learn that what I 'gush' over isn't terrible for you."

--

The kitchen was open, and the cooks were already making breakfast. Poole was there to greet her as she slowly stumbled into the Dining Room. "Breakfast will soon be served, madam." He said calmly, nodding at her. She smiled and nodded in return. "Thank you..."

He quickly noticed her tiredness. "Are you alright, miss?" He asked. "Did you have a rough night's sleep?"
She sat down at the table, rubbing the ridge of her nose. "You could put it that way, yes..." She answered. "Just... spontaneous dreams."

He nodded. "Ah, I understand. Dreams and nightmares can be quite a journey for any person, yes?"

Before she could answer, the doorbell had rung. Quickly, Poole nodded to a few of the servants to get the door. A few minutes had passed, and they returned with a small envelope that was addressed to her. Both servants had some snow in their hair.
"It seems that the blizzard from yesterday is still raging, Dr. Jekyll," said one. "We won't be expecting any company today."

She sighed, picking up the letter from their hands and glancing at the stamp and written information. The handwriting seemed.. familiar. Glancing at the top left corner of the envelope, her eyes widened.

Poole and the servants became worried. "Doctor... are you alright?" asked one of the servants.

It took her a minute to respond, and all she did was nod. "Y-Yes, yes... I am alright. I just... had a thought come to me. I will be alright." She said with a smile.

The three sighed in relief. Harriet turned to the two servants, still smiling warmly. "Thank you for retrieving the letter." With a quick nod, the two dispatched in their own directions, leaving Poole with Harriet. "I will be in the kitchen with the cooks." He said. "Please ring the bell if you need anything."
She nodded. "Thank you, Poole."

Watching him return to the kitchen, she quickly returned her attention to the letter. She couldn't believe what she was reading...

The top of the envelope read:

DR. HENRY JEKYLL
46 HARLEY STREET
LONDON, ENGLAND

How... How could this be physically possible?! There was... no way this could have been sent to her! He was dead, wasn't he? Unless... something changed in between the few centuries he was presumed dead. Setting the letter down at the table, she slipped one hand through her hair and grabbed on a clump, not knowing what to do.

"I... I have to read this later." She said to herself. "Now... is not the time. I cannot stress about it now. That will come at a later time."