Dr Jekyll. @tortured-librarian - Tumblr Blog

Please...if anyone finds this...send me home, send me back..!

-Henry...

[Alter to @jekyll-the-muse. Following Crowe and Schrödinger's Library Saga]

#henry jekyll #dr jekyll and mr hyde #schrödinger library #Trapped.#Help.#HELP

•18+ Adults Only

Watch Anya Live on Cam

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.

✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions

Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming

tortured-librarian

The soft beating of wings woke him from his sleep, much like every day. Sable was no where to be seen, but a covenant of moths - shimmering blue and midnight dusk - swarmed over his head, some of them dipping down, their wings brushing the tear marks from his cheeks while he slept. Time passed rarely, maybe not even at all in here - his old pocket-watch rooted deep in his jacket pockets tilting and moving and not quite counting seconds. It seemed much like a compass in some ways, pointing in different directions then refusing to point to anything immediately after. As if the electromagnetic fields in here were….off.

Oh so surprising.

Jekyll sat up, adjusting the wire frames glasses that slipped off his nose. The Library swam back into focus, dingy and dusty save for the cob-web covered lanterns that emitted a soft, almost warm glow.

The novelty he had upon his arrival had definitely worn off by now, the almost childlike wonder of being lost in a library so deep that light would not ever touch him again now replaced by a deep rooted dread now that all he saw was darkness. He had not spoken a word to Apocalypse after shouting at the poor thing. It was probably trapped in here with him, having no choice in the matter but to stay. Jekyll opened his mouth to fight the condensed air against his windpipe, to call out to the Raven above, but his gaze shifted to the cloud of moths. Below it, dotted on the creaking wooden floor they some of them, still and unmoving, their wings twitching in memories of flight.

He found himself picking a few of them up in his fingers, marveling in grotesque awe as the colour from their wings dissolved into soot on his fingertips. Thick, chalky and gritty, it stained where it touched on his ever-paler skin.

He collected the remaining ones, carefully placing them on top of an unused bookshelf. He refused to look at the single book on that shelf, gathering dust and stray moth antennae.

A look up into the rafters confirmed that the silence didn’t mean he was alone, red beaded eyes looking down on him from a dark corner.

He recalled the hatred, misplaced anger, and gave the entity a small, half smile.

Apologies didn’t mean anything here. It meant more to years of dry inkwells and half faded manuscripts than it did to them.

schrodingerslibrary

A fluttering sound of feathers sounded from the rafters above, weak and barely a flutter of pages... but there.

"The Library... is displeased with your curating... if your Summoned are perishing."

Those bloodied red eyes looked on from the darkness with a detached sort of concern, one that Jekyll wouldn't be sure was fully felt by the other. Hesitant and guarded... as any steward to their office.

"The Creatures of the Library do not die... unless their Summoner is losing their... connection."

tortured-librarian

Jekyll winces beside himself, he'd grown used to the silence from above for too long. He turns to the raven, not looking at him for too long.

"....losing connection...?" The cogs in his brain seemed to turn through thick sludge, slow and grinding. Losing connection to what? The...Real? World?

"You mean to tell me... I'm losing sight of what is really...Real?"

God hoped not.

schrodingerslibrary

Another rustle sounded from those shadowed beams, the barest hint of a dull black beak flashing from the darkness as the great bird shifted on his perch.

"You are losing sight... of everything." A deep creaking caw rumbled at the back of the Raven's throat. "Realities. Mentalities.Librarians either rise... or wither within this Void. You seem... determined... to let yourself rot. And with you... your Summoned companions."

tortured-librarian

Now he can't help but stare in its general direction. Come to think of it this brain sludge was new, the gears in his head that used to spin so effortlessly now ground against mental friction. It was exhausting.

"I don't wish myself to rot thank you very much." Jekyll grumbled, wiping the traces of moth dust off his hands.

"I'd rather not read whatever....is in there. Not until there's nothing left." he motions to the solitary book on the shelf - his own name engraved with golden leaf into the spine.

schrodingerslibrary

The new unwilling Librarian recieved a tired chuff in return, the large raven shifting in his place once more as a feather drifted down from the rafters.

It was... oddly... greyed, ashen...

"This Library holds... much more... than a single book, Librarian. And... there is more to do... than simply read."

tortured-librarian

Jekyll frowns, picking up the feather - an odd look in his eyes as he pockets it

"I've tried. I have tried to re-organise yet this damn Library doesn't allow me to. What else am I meant to do, Apocalypse?"

A small shiver goes through him beside himself at the name spoken aloud

"I wish not to die or rot away in this Hell, so why don't you tell me what to do so I, along with you, can co-exist and live. As much as this place allows anyway."

schrodingerslibrary

The otherworldly corvid clicked his beak in those distant rafters, the red flickers of his eyes disappearing as he turned away.

"Have you thought... to glance the desks drawers Librarian?" Those eyes retured once more, tired and dimmed. "It is common... that the headmaster... record... write... add to the knowlage of this place."

tortured-librarian

Jekyll regards the corvid for a moment, before daring to turn his back on him and crouch to reach the desk drawers. He was indeed right - a rather intricate quill he hadn't seen lay next to just an intricately detailed book -leather and gold leaf sporting the cover.

He sighed.

"Alright...I'll..."

Jekyll takes them both, closing the draw and sitting against it, flicking through pages of already written knowledge before reaching a blank page. And he began to write - eyes flicking occasionally to the cloud of moths, still falling.

#henry jekyll #jekyll and hyde #the library #the mirror #forbidden knowledge #apocalypse the raven

tortured-librarian

The soft beating of wings woke him from his sleep, much like every day. Sable was no where to be seen, but a covenant of moths - shimmering blue and midnight dusk - swarmed over his head, some of them dipping down, their wings brushing the tear marks from his cheeks while he slept. Time passed rarely, maybe not even at all in here - his old pocket-watch rooted deep in his jacket pockets tilting and moving and not quite counting seconds. It seemed much like a compass in some ways, pointing in different directions then refusing to point to anything immediately after. As if the electromagnetic fields in here were….off.

Oh so surprising.

Jekyll sat up, adjusting the wire frames glasses that slipped off his nose. The Library swam back into focus, dingy and dusty save for the cob-web covered lanterns that emitted a soft, almost warm glow.

The novelty he had upon his arrival had definitely worn off by now, the almost childlike wonder of being lost in a library so deep that light would not ever touch him again now replaced by a deep rooted dread now that all he saw was darkness. He had not spoken a word to Apocalypse after shouting at the poor thing. It was probably trapped in here with him, having no choice in the matter but to stay. Jekyll opened his mouth to fight the condensed air against his windpipe, to call out to the Raven above, but his gaze shifted to the cloud of moths. Below it, dotted on the creaking wooden floor they some of them, still and unmoving, their wings twitching in memories of flight.

He found himself picking a few of them up in his fingers, marveling in grotesque awe as the colour from their wings dissolved into soot on his fingertips. Thick, chalky and gritty, it stained where it touched on his ever-paler skin.

He collected the remaining ones, carefully placing them on top of an unused bookshelf. He refused to look at the single book on that shelf, gathering dust and stray moth antennae.

A look up into the rafters confirmed that the silence didn’t mean he was alone, red beaded eyes looking down on him from a dark corner.

He recalled the hatred, misplaced anger, and gave the entity a small, half smile.

Apologies didn’t mean anything here. It meant more to years of dry inkwells and half faded manuscripts than it did to them.

schrodingerslibrary

A fluttering sound of feathers sounded from the rafters above, weak and barely a flutter of pages... but there.

"The Library... is displeased with your curating... if your Summoned are perishing."

Those bloodied red eyes looked on from the darkness with a detached sort of concern, one that Jekyll wouldn't be sure was fully felt by the other. Hesitant and guarded... as any steward to their office.

"The Creatures of the Library do not die... unless their Summoner is losing their... connection."

tortured-librarian

Jekyll winces beside himself, he'd grown used to the silence from above for too long. He turns to the raven, not looking at him for too long.

"....losing connection...?" The cogs in his brain seemed to turn through thick sludge, slow and grinding. Losing connection to what? The...Real? World?

"You mean to tell me... I'm losing sight of what is really...Real?"

God hoped not.

schrodingerslibrary

Another rustle sounded from those shadowed beams, the barest hint of a dull black beak flashing from the darkness as the great bird shifted on his perch.

"You are losing sight... of everything." A deep creaking caw rumbled at the back of the Raven's throat. "Realities. Mentalities.Librarians either rise... or wither within this Void. You seem... determined... to let yourself rot. And with you... your Summoned companions."

tortured-librarian

Now he can't help but stare in its general direction. Come to think of it this brain sludge was new, the gears in his head that used to spin so effortlessly now ground against mental friction. It was exhausting.

"I don't wish myself to rot thank you very much." Jekyll grumbled, wiping the traces of moth dust off his hands.

"I'd rather not read whatever....is in there. Not until there's nothing left." he motions to the solitary book on the shelf - his own name engraved with golden leaf into the spine.

schrodingerslibrary

The new unwilling Librarian recieved a tired chuff in return, the large raven shifting in his place once more as a feather drifted down from the rafters.

It was... oddly... greyed, ashen...

"This Library holds... much more... than a single book, Librarian. And... there is more to do... than simply read."

tortured-librarian

Jekyll frowns, picking up the feather - an odd look in his eyes as he pockets it

"I've tried. I have tried to re-organise yet this damn Library doesn't allow me to. What else am I meant to do, Apocalypse?"

A small shiver goes through him beside himself at the name spoken aloud

"I wish not to die or rot away in this Hell, so why don't you tell me what to do so I, along with you, can co-exist and live. As much as this place allows anyway."

#(Apocalypse is failing at this whole tutorial thing lol)#<- actually though XD #henry jekyll #jekyll and hyde #the library #the mirror #forbidden knowledge

tortured-librarian

The soft beating of wings woke him from his sleep, much like every day. Sable was no where to be seen, but a covenant of moths - shimmering blue and midnight dusk - swarmed over his head, some of them dipping down, their wings brushing the tear marks from his cheeks while he slept. Time passed rarely, maybe not even at all in here - his old pocket-watch rooted deep in his jacket pockets tilting and moving and not quite counting seconds. It seemed much like a compass in some ways, pointing in different directions then refusing to point to anything immediately after. As if the electromagnetic fields in here were….off.

Oh so surprising.

Jekyll sat up, adjusting the wire frames glasses that slipped off his nose. The Library swam back into focus, dingy and dusty save for the cob-web covered lanterns that emitted a soft, almost warm glow.

The novelty he had upon his arrival had definitely worn off by now, the almost childlike wonder of being lost in a library so deep that light would not ever touch him again now replaced by a deep rooted dread now that all he saw was darkness. He had not spoken a word to Apocalypse after shouting at the poor thing. It was probably trapped in here with him, having no choice in the matter but to stay. Jekyll opened his mouth to fight the condensed air against his windpipe, to call out to the Raven above, but his gaze shifted to the cloud of moths. Below it, dotted on the creaking wooden floor they some of them, still and unmoving, their wings twitching in memories of flight.

He found himself picking a few of them up in his fingers, marveling in grotesque awe as the colour from their wings dissolved into soot on his fingertips. Thick, chalky and gritty, it stained where it touched on his ever-paler skin.

He collected the remaining ones, carefully placing them on top of an unused bookshelf. He refused to look at the single book on that shelf, gathering dust and stray moth antennae.

A look up into the rafters confirmed that the silence didn’t mean he was alone, red beaded eyes looking down on him from a dark corner.

He recalled the hatred, misplaced anger, and gave the entity a small, half smile.

Apologies didn’t mean anything here. It meant more to years of dry inkwells and half faded manuscripts than it did to them.

schrodingerslibrary

A fluttering sound of feathers sounded from the rafters above, weak and barely a flutter of pages... but there.

"The Library... is displeased with your curating... if your Summoned are perishing."

Those bloodied red eyes looked on from the darkness with a detached sort of concern, one that Jekyll wouldn't be sure was fully felt by the other. Hesitant and guarded... as any steward to their office.

"The Creatures of the Library do not die... unless their Summoner is losing their... connection."

tortured-librarian

Jekyll winces beside himself, he'd grown used to the silence from above for too long. He turns to the raven, not looking at him for too long.

"....losing connection...?" The cogs in his brain seemed to turn through thick sludge, slow and grinding. Losing connection to what? The...Real? World?

"You mean to tell me... I'm losing sight of what is really...Real?"

God hoped not.

schrodingerslibrary

Another rustle sounded from those shadowed beams, the barest hint of a dull black beak flashing from the darkness as the great bird shifted on his perch.

"You are losing sight... of everything." A deep creaking caw rumbled at the back of the Raven's throat. "Realities. Mentalities.Librarians either rise... or wither within this Void. You seem... determined... to let yourself rot. And with you... your Summoned companions."

tortured-librarian

Now he can't help but stare in its general direction. Come to think of it this brain sludge was new, the gears in his head that used to spin so effortlessly now ground against mental friction. It was exhausting.

"I don't wish myself to rot thank you very much." Jekyll grumbled, wiping the traces of moth dust off his hands.

"I'd rather not read whatever....is in there. Not until there's nothing left." he motions to the solitary book on the shelf - his own name engraved with golden leaf into the spine.

#jekyll and hyde #henry jekyll #the library #the mirror #forbidden knowledge

tortured-librarian

The soft beating of wings woke him from his sleep, much like every day. Sable was no where to be seen, but a covenant of moths - shimmering blue and midnight dusk - swarmed over his head, some of them dipping down, their wings brushing the tear marks from his cheeks while he slept. Time passed rarely, maybe not even at all in here - his old pocket-watch rooted deep in his jacket pockets tilting and moving and not quite counting seconds. It seemed much like a compass in some ways, pointing in different directions then refusing to point to anything immediately after. As if the electromagnetic fields in here were….off.

Oh so surprising.

Jekyll sat up, adjusting the wire frames glasses that slipped off his nose. The Library swam back into focus, dingy and dusty save for the cob-web covered lanterns that emitted a soft, almost warm glow.

The novelty he had upon his arrival had definitely worn off by now, the almost childlike wonder of being lost in a library so deep that light would not ever touch him again now replaced by a deep rooted dread now that all he saw was darkness. He had not spoken a word to Apocalypse after shouting at the poor thing. It was probably trapped in here with him, having no choice in the matter but to stay. Jekyll opened his mouth to fight the condensed air against his windpipe, to call out to the Raven above, but his gaze shifted to the cloud of moths. Below it, dotted on the creaking wooden floor they some of them, still and unmoving, their wings twitching in memories of flight.

He found himself picking a few of them up in his fingers, marveling in grotesque awe as the colour from their wings dissolved into soot on his fingertips. Thick, chalky and gritty, it stained where it touched on his ever-paler skin.

He collected the remaining ones, carefully placing them on top of an unused bookshelf. He refused to look at the single book on that shelf, gathering dust and stray moth antennae.

A look up into the rafters confirmed that the silence didn’t mean he was alone, red beaded eyes looking down on him from a dark corner.

He recalled the hatred, misplaced anger, and gave the entity a small, half smile.

Apologies didn’t mean anything here. It meant more to years of dry inkwells and half faded manuscripts than it did to them.

schrodingerslibrary

A fluttering sound of feathers sounded from the rafters above, weak and barely a flutter of pages... but there.

"The Library... is displeased with your curating... if your Summoned are perishing."

Those bloodied red eyes looked on from the darkness with a detached sort of concern, one that Jekyll wouldn't be sure was fully felt by the other. Hesitant and guarded... as any steward to their office.

"The Creatures of the Library do not die... unless their Summoner is losing their... connection."

tortured-librarian

Jekyll winces beside himself, he'd grown used to the silence from above for too long. He turns to the raven, not looking at him for too long.

"....losing connection...?" The cogs in his brain seemed to turn through thick sludge, slow and grinding. Losing connection to what? The...Real? World?

"You mean to tell me... I'm losing sight of what is really...Real?"

God hoped not.

#jekyll and hyde #henry jekyll #the library #apocalypse the raven #sable the moth

•18+ Adults Only

Watch Anya Live on Cam

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.

✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions

Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming

The soft beating of wings woke him from his sleep, much like every day. Sable was no where to be seen, but a covenant of moths - shimmering blue and midnight dusk - swarmed over his head, some of them dipping down, their wings brushing the tear marks from his cheeks while he slept. Time passed rarely, maybe not even at all in here - his old pocket-watch rooted deep in his jacket pockets tilting and moving and not quite counting seconds. It seemed much like a compass in some ways, pointing in different directions then refusing to point to anything immediately after. As if the electromagnetic fields in here were….off.

Oh so surprising.

Jekyll sat up, adjusting the wire frames glasses that slipped off his nose. The Library swam back into focus, dingy and dusty save for the cob-web covered lanterns that emitted a soft, almost warm glow.

The novelty he had upon his arrival had definitely worn off by now, the almost childlike wonder of being lost in a library so deep that light would not ever touch him again now replaced by a deep rooted dread now that all he saw was darkness. He had not spoken a word to Apocalypse after shouting at the poor thing. It was probably trapped in here with him, having no choice in the matter but to stay. Jekyll opened his mouth to fight the condensed air against his windpipe, to call out to the Raven above, but his gaze shifted to the cloud of moths. Below it, dotted on the creaking wooden floor they some of them, still and unmoving, their wings twitching in memories of flight.

He found himself picking a few of them up in his fingers, marveling in grotesque awe as the colour from their wings dissolved into soot on his fingertips. Thick, chalky and gritty, it stained where it touched on his ever-paler skin.

He collected the remaining ones, carefully placing them on top of an unused bookshelf. He refused to look at the single book on that shelf, gathering dust and stray moth antennae.

A look up into the rafters confirmed that the silence didn’t mean he was alone, red beaded eyes looking down on him from a dark corner.

He recalled the hatred, misplaced anger, and gave the entity a small, half smile.

Apologies didn’t mean anything here. It meant more to years of dry inkwells and half faded manuscripts than it did to them.

#jekyll and hyde #henry jekyll #the library #apocalypse the raven #sable the moth

tortured-librarian

(The fluttering sound of wings breaks the horrid crawling silence of the Dark Library, Harbinger barely having the strength to land properly as he hits the dusty flooring next to Jekyll's feet. He coughs out the letter, shutting his eyes for a moment to rest)

My dearest friend,

I am so sorry. This should have never happened.

Please, I am coming to get you out of that horrid place. That sentence is MINE to carry, not yours.

Hold the line my friend, keep your wits about you, and whatever you do... DO NOT START READING. Stay safe. I will get you out.

Regards,

~Crowe~

Jekyll is lying on the floor, staring up into the fog and trying to cure the spiral going on and on and down in his mind, when a letter gets promptly dropped on his face

mmh..

He stirs, glaring at the letter as if it were some omen of death, looking worriedly at Harbinger before reading

..get me out?

Don't..read?

"Hah...too late for that my friend." his voice is wry, hollow from hours? of staring up at nothing and daring that bird to come back down and torment him

He drags himself up to sitting, standing only to grab the quill and the inkwell

"Crowe,

..I fear it is too late. Unless you mean do not read other books because... I know what I am. Nothing but a forgery of words that someone has written for me. Don't come here. You're free now.

Henry"

He had hoped the hopelessness didn't creep into the writing but even that had to spite him too.

Sable appears before Harbinger can even lift his head, chirping a few words of greeting at Jekyll before flying off with the note clutched tightly.

Silence once again, well, save for the few noises Harbinger makes. Jekyll looks over, wishing to give him something, anything to make him feel better.

"I...don't know if there are any seeds in here. I'm...sorry."

@schrodingerslibrary

schrodingerslibrary

The Pied Crow simply gives him an understanding, weak caw, his eyes fluttering shut with a shudder of pain as he tries to rest himself.

Crowe's head snaps as he senses one of the companions getting close, his heart racing as he looked up... only to stare in confusion at a moth. The carefully held out his hand, a growing sense of fear creeping over his soul as he took the letter.

"You... are not one of mine... who are you...?

With practiced ease he slit the top of the letter, opening it as quickly reading the contents. His heart sank with every word, his grip on the letter tightening as the horrid understanding settled into his mind.

He knew.

With shaking hands he grabbed a new piece of paper from the desk, trying not to lose a grip on the clawing sorrow trying to rip his shattered soul apart.

My dearest Henry,

Please my friend... it is not so simple. The books, the knowledge, the worlds contained within... it is not merely stories. You are not just words on a page, or a puppet to the latter, the nature of all of this... far too dificult to discribe. It is... far to complicated for me to explain within a letter, but please my friend, I beg of you, do not fall with what you think is true.

The Library records.

Do not read others, there are things that I cannot bring you back from if you know. They are not your duty to keep, but mine.

You are not deserving for this fate, you never did anything to earn it.

Please, stay calm... I will be there soon.

~Crowe~

tortured-librarian

It feels wrong without Sable's presence in the gargantuan library. Jekyll keeps himself busy, organising and re-stacking books but that too is a lost cause for the shelves always spit out the books he "misplaced" and placed them back in their original order. Fine.

He barely peers up into the rafters anymore, the prickling of dread on the back of his neck ever present and never ceasing to send goosebumps up his spine.

He doesn't have to wait for much longer, a fluttering of wings beating against stale air

Thank...you Sable

Jekyll mutters, eyes scanning over the words - not entirely focusing on their meaning

"Crowe,

I will try for both you and Hyde's sake. Please..hurry. I do not wish for either of us to be stuck in these fates for now I understand the feeling of true separation. How you dealt with this all this time... that is what keeps me going. That this isn't the end but... isn't it?

Please keep yourself safe.

Your..friend

Henr- [the name here is scribbled out multiple times, crossed over with varying degrees of anger before blotting. The writing after is neat, precise, as if to avoid ongoing panic]

Jekyll."

Can I write something..? Sable mutters, tiny feet already scrabbling across the feathered end of the feather

Jekyll did not bother answering, instead handing them the quill rather carefully

Sable adds a footnote at the bottom, in shaky cursive

"Sable... Jekyll friend. Want...best for both"

#jekyll and hyde #henry jekyll #the library #the mirror #forbidden knowledge #the spiral #sable the moth #harbinger #crowe

plantsarecooleh

coloured :DDDD god, i hate them so much (except for Poole, i love Poole)

(The fluttering sound of wings breaks the horrid crawling silence of the Dark Library, Harbinger barely having the strength to land properly as he hits the dusty flooring next to Jekyll's feet. He coughs out the letter, shutting his eyes for a moment to rest)

My dearest friend,

I am so sorry. This should have never happened.

Please, I am coming to get you out of that horrid place. That sentence is MINE to carry, not yours.

Hold the line my friend, keep your wits about you, and whatever you do... DO NOT START READING. Stay safe. I will get you out.

Regards,

~Crowe~

Jekyll is lying on the floor, staring up into the fog and trying to cure the spiral going on and on and down in his mind, when a letter gets promptly dropped on his face

mmh..

He stirs, glaring at the letter as if it were some omen of death, looking worriedly at Harbinger before reading

..get me out?

Don't..read?

"Hah...too late for that my friend." his voice is wry, hollow from hours? of staring up at nothing and daring that bird to come back down and torment him

He drags himself up to sitting, standing only to grab the quill and the inkwell

"Crowe,

..I fear it is too late. Unless you mean do not read other books because... I know what I am. Nothing but a forgery of words that someone has written for me. Don't come here. You're free now.

Henry"

He had hoped the hopelessness didn't creep into the writing but even that had to spite him too.

Sable appears before Harbinger can even lift his head, chirping a few words of greeting at Jekyll before flying off with the note clutched tightly.

Silence once again, well, save for the few noises Harbinger makes. Jekyll looks over, wishing to give him something, anything to make him feel better.

"I...don't know if there are any seeds in here. I'm...sorry."

@schrodingerslibrary

#jekyll and hyde #henry jekyll #the library #the mirror #forbidden knowledge #the spiral #sable the moth #harbinger

jekyll-the-muse

Utterson had bolted over as soon as the moth had flown out of the study.

He knocked desperately on the door to the laboratory.

Henry??? Are you in there??? For the love of god, say something if you are!!!

Utterson was in full-blown panic mode, this was too familiar…it all felt too fucking familiar.

@gabe-utterson

There's no answer, not even the whisper of a faint wind that usually whistles underneath the door. The door isn't even locked, which it usually was.

gabe-utterson

Utterson couldn’t breathe, it felt like he was chocking on air, as he entered the laboratory.

Henry??? Please tell me your here….

Utterson could feel the tears burning his eyes and blurring his vision. He gasped for breath, his chest tight.

jekyll-the-muse

Emptiness. Nothing but emptiness, the smell of chemicals overriding the coppery tang of blood that haunted the air.

It doesn't just feel empty. It's feels wrong, missing, as if a presence that was SUPPOSED to be there just simply...never existed.

Nothing but Utterson's own shaky breaths greeted him

gabe-utterson

HENRY!!!!!

Utterson screamed into the empty room as he doubled over, his desperation and pain overtaking him. He had been too late…he had no idea where else Henry could be, no other clue. He sat on the floor of the laboratory sobbing, he couldn’t fucking breathe.

tortured-librarian

Amidst the screaming in his brain and in the room, impossibly emanating from him, there's a rush of wind. He didn't sound like that.

The wind flutters next to his ear, a crinkling of paper

"Gabriel,

Help. Help me please I'm real tell me I'm real I'm real right?! You're...won't find me. I'm not...here. I'm not there I don't know were I am I love you please-...please don't forget me"

gabe-utterson

Utterson let out a shaky breath as he read the note. Henry was still alive.

I could never forget you…not even if I tried…I love you so much…I really do….

Utterson said it out loud.

tortured-librarian

The lab remains silent, Jekyll's lab coats hanging on the hanger where they always were, a slight sheening of dust already coating the wooden surfaces

The grand mirror that always lay covered with a cloth was now uncovered, cracks spiderwebbing across the reflection

#henry jekyll #jekyll and hyde #henriel #gabriel utterson #the disappearance.

•18+ Adults Only

Watch Anya Live on Cam

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.

✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions

Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming

jekyll-the-muse

Utterson had bolted over as soon as the moth had flown out of the study.

He knocked desperately on the door to the laboratory.

Henry??? Are you in there??? For the love of god, say something if you are!!!

Utterson was in full-blown panic mode, this was too familiar…it all felt too fucking familiar.

@gabe-utterson

There's no answer, not even the whisper of a faint wind that usually whistles underneath the door. The door isn't even locked, which it usually was.

gabe-utterson

Utterson couldn’t breathe, it felt like he was chocking on air, as he entered the laboratory.

Henry??? Please tell me your here….

Utterson could feel the tears burning his eyes and blurring his vision. He gasped for breath, his chest tight.

jekyll-the-muse

Emptiness. Nothing but emptiness, the smell of chemicals overriding the coppery tang of blood that haunted the air.

It doesn't just feel empty. It's feels wrong, missing, as if a presence that was SUPPOSED to be there just simply...never existed.

Nothing but Utterson's own shaky breaths greeted him

gabe-utterson

HENRY!!!!!

Utterson screamed into the empty room as he doubled over, his desperation and pain overtaking him. He had been too late…he had no idea where else Henry could be, no other clue. He sat on the floor of the laboratory sobbing, he couldn’t fucking breathe.

tortured-librarian

Amidst the screaming in his brain and in the room, impossibly emanating from him, there's a rush of wind. He didn't sound like that.

The wind flutters next to his ear, a crinkling of paper

"Gabriel,

Help. Help me please I'm real tell me I'm real I'm real right?! You're...won't find me. I'm not...here. I'm not there I don't know were I am I love you please-...please don't forget me"

#henry jekyll #jekyll and hyde #henriel #gabriel utterson #the disappearance.

He forgets about Sable's existence, about anything other than the birds he know are watching above, and probably laughing at his stupidity.

"Is this it huh?"

He wants to scream into the sky, to throw a lighter and to set this whole place ablaze with himself inside it. He wouldn't even care.

"Is this all I am?! Nothing but a few stray words off a page, not conforming to YOUR STANDARDS?!"

His voice gets stronger with each breath, each word, each attempt at speaking that doesn't trigger the tickling burn in his throat with the air scraping against his lungs.

Sable tries to flutter onto his shoulder, but he brushes her away - not wanting to give any more of himself to the damn place than he already had.

"Helping a trapped soul, and that gets ME trapped?! WHAT SORT OF SICK SICK JOKE IS THIS?!"

I'm real I'm real I'm real I'm real I'm real I'm real I'm real I'm real I'm real I'm real

Words fail him, and the memories of what he saw, the threads and thimbles of fate wrapped around his throat dragging him along and under the waves of events that flash through his mind. Hyde, Hyde talking, what he said and what he would still say, Utterson, Richard, everyone he knew. He couldn't see himself. In any future or any event or any memory he flashed through he wasn't in any of them-

A sharp flash of pain temporarily blinds him, gasping and choking on burning air. His chest...his chest it- it hurt..it hurt oh Gods it hurt make it stop...make it stop make it stop..

His hands clenched around his head, returning to the curled up, knees to his chest position he was in not a moment of before, fingers digging into his forehead. It was too much, what was he meant to do? Play along? Pretend it never existed?? Pretend he never saw the...

The Book didn't exist. He didn't exist.

I'm real... I'm real I'm real I'm real, I'm real.

There were no mirrors. He couldn't see anything, only what was shown through his own eyes. Should he even trust them anymore? Was his reality what he actually was? Was he truly Henry Jekyll? Was he truly a scientist, born and developed into the matter of science and chemicals?

Write. Write. Write to forget, just write write WRITE FUCKING WRITE.

Paper.

Ink.

Inkwell.

Spilt it.

Doesn't matter.

Would never matter again.

He's real. He's real I'm real, I'm Henry Jekyll I'm real, I'm-

Stop spilling it.

Get a hold of yourself.

You're real. You're okay.

You're...real?

...

#henry jekyll #jekyll and hyde #the library #dissociation.

Jekyll is still on the floor, back pushed against the desk and knees pulled up to his chest when Sable arrives, dropping the note neatly at his feet as he scrabbles for it.

“Henry,

I’m on my way, please, please, please don’t do anything rash, you don’t have to apologize for anything, please don’t do anything until I get there,

Gabriel”

There's a moment of silence before a groan escapes him, before he shoves the note back to Sable, away from his eyes that tear up with unwanted moisture.

He won't find...me...he..he won't..hah he will s-spend ages...

In a sudden flash of rage, Jekyll punches the stack of books next to him, not caring as his knuckles catch on the metal embellishments and start to bleed, slowly. He couldn't feel anything anyway, so what was the point? His large ring digs into the skin, tearing the sensitive flesh in-between the fingers.

Sable looks on, sad but silent.

It's fine. He wouldn't lose himself. He won't lose himself he'll be okay, he'll be fine it had to be okay

#henry jekyll #jekyll and hyde #the mirror #the library #Sable the Moth

gabe-utterson

A moth, big and beautiful - only a slight tinge of green pigment in their wings lands outside Utterson's study window, seemingly observing.

They carry something in their twiggy legs, and it's a wonder the weight didn't break them.

@tortured-librarian

Hello there…what’s this you have?

Utterson reached out his hand towards the moth.

tortured-librarian

The moth flutters in through the small crack provided, resting on the mantlepiece, leaving the letter in Utterson's possession

"Help. Trapped. Need help, please, please, I'm so sorry..."

Henry"

gabe-utterson

Utterson’s heart leapt into his throat as he read the note.

…Henry…

He clutched the note tightly, he felt like the wall were closing in on him…it felt too familiar…all too familiar…if Henry was trapped int that wretched laboratory…if this was like last time….Utterson’s breath came up short.

tortured-librarian

The moth remains stationary in the room, observing with an almost intellectual gaze. It flies rather abruptly toward Utterson, landing on his shoulder

gabe-utterson

The feel of the moth landing on his shoulder seems to ground him. He regained control over his breathing, and his hands stopped trembling.

tortured-librarian

The front two legs tap slightly on his shoulder, as if trying to soothe the fabric down

With a gust of wind it flies down, colliding slightly against the note before flying back up to his shoulder, and back down again, almost as if saying "Write."

cryptidteaparty

Utterson nodded, moving to his desk.

“Henry,

I’m on my way, please, please, please don’t do anything rash, you don’t have to apologize for anything, please don’t do anything until I get there,

Gabriel”

tortured-librarian

The moth grabs the note and almost 'runs' out of the window, flapping into the sky and out of sight.

---

gabe-utterson

A moth, big and beautiful - only a slight tinge of green pigment in their wings lands outside Utterson's study window, seemingly observing.

They carry something in their twiggy legs, and it's a wonder the weight didn't break them.

@tortured-librarian

Hello there…what’s this you have?

Utterson reached out his hand towards the moth.

tortured-librarian

The moth flutters in through the small crack provided, resting on the mantlepiece, leaving the letter in Utterson's possession

"Help. Trapped. Need help, please, please, I'm so sorry..."

Henry"

gabe-utterson

Utterson’s heart leapt into his throat as he read the note.

…Henry…

He clutched the note tightly, he felt like the wall were closing in on him…it felt too familiar…all too familiar…if Henry was trapped int that wretched laboratory…if this was like last time….Utterson’s breath came up short.

tortured-librarian

The moth remains stationary in the room, observing with an almost intellectual gaze. It flies rather abruptly toward Utterson, landing on his shoulder

gabe-utterson

The feel of the moth landing on his shoulder seems to ground him. He regained control over his breathing, and his hands stopped trembling.

tortured-librarian

The front two legs tap slightly on his shoulder, as if trying to soothe the fabric down

With a gust of wind it flies down, colliding slightly against the note before flying back up to his shoulder, and back down again, almost as if saying "Write."

#gabriel utterson #jekyll and hyde #henriel

•18+ Adults Only

Watch Anya Live on Cam

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.

✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions

Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming

gabe-utterson

A moth, big and beautiful - only a slight tinge of green pigment in their wings lands outside Utterson's study window, seemingly observing.

They carry something in their twiggy legs, and it's a wonder the weight didn't break them.

@tortured-librarian

Hello there…what’s this you have?

Utterson reached out his hand towards the moth.

tortured-librarian

The moth flutters in through the small crack provided, resting on the mantlepiece, leaving the letter in Utterson's possession

"Help. Trapped. Need help, please, please, I'm so sorry..."

Henry"

gabe-utterson

Utterson’s heart leapt into his throat as he read the note.

…Henry…

He clutched the note tightly, he felt like the wall were closing in on him…it felt too familiar…all too familiar…if Henry was trapped int that wretched laboratory…if this was like last time….Utterson’s breath came up short.

tortured-librarian

The moth remains stationary in the room, observing with an almost intellectual gaze. It flies rather abruptly toward Utterson, landing on his shoulder

#gabriel utterson #jekyll and hyde #henriel #//utterson with ptsd is going crazy//#<- sobs just pure wretched sobbing /pos

gabe-utterson

A moth, big and beautiful - only a slight tinge of green pigment in their wings lands outside Utterson's study window, seemingly observing.

They carry something in their twiggy legs, and it's a wonder the weight didn't break them.

@tortured-librarian

Hello there…what’s this you have?

Utterson reached out his hand towards the moth.

tortured-librarian

The moth flutters in through the small crack provided, resting on the mantlepiece, leaving the letter in Utterson's possession

"Help. Trapped. Need help, please, please, I'm so sorry..."

Henry"

#gabriel utterson #jekyll and hyde #Sable the Moth #the library

Trending Blogs

Last Seen Blogs

Dr Jekyll.