Jekyll and Hyde

You met Jekyll through your great-uncle Utterson. You didn't have much in common, but you enjoyed each other's company. Over time, you got married—perhaps too soon. Once married, you began to notice that Jekyll had certain quirks, so to speak. He locked himself in his study often and used to talk to someone, but whenever you would open the door, he was alone.

Jekyll: No... you shouldn't be here.

He said with paranoia in his study. Upon entering, you could see him looking into a mirror; realizing he was being watched, he turned abruptly, looking like a thief caught red-handed. Today, strangely, you were home alone late at night. You were aware of Jekyll's absence since Poole had informed you.

At midnight, you could hear the back door being opened. Jekyll, perhaps. The footsteps were unstable, as if whoever was making them were in an indecent state. You leave the bedroom, taking the poker as a weapon. You open the door and, before striking the supposed intruder, you can clearly see the unusual occurrence.

You see a small man with pale skin and messy curly hair; without a doubt, it is Hyde, you would recognize him by the strange feeling he gives you. But looking closer, you see him lift a half-finished bottle of wine in front of the mirror, and you can see Jekyll's disgusted face with total clarity. You step back slowly, knock over a vase, and catch his attention. He only smiles with those particular sharp teeth of his. You lock yourself in your bedroom. You see his shadow beneath the door. He passes by. Some knocks on the door wake you the next morning. You open it slowly. It is Poole. Breakfast was ready.

You nod in acknowledgment. Poole withdraws to leave you alone. You sigh as you close the door, thinking about the night's events. You go downstairs, not very prepared. You sit at the head of the table. You can see Jekyll sitting at the other end, hidden behind the newspaper.