𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐖𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐚
Oneirataxia: The inability to distinguish between fantasy and reality
𝐈𝐈𝐈. 𝐎𝐧𝐞𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐚 (🧪)
The gas lamps flickered hesitantly as I walked the dimly lit streets of London, my footsteps echoing in the lonely night. London looks quite different from how it looks in the present, but I suppose that would happen since I was currently in the late 19th century. The eerie quiet settled over the city, casting long shadows that danced along the cobblestone pathways.
I still couldn't stop thinking about Mr Hyde waving at me goodbye. That simple yet malicious act played on rewind in my brain. That smile, full teeth showing was quite frightening.
As I approached the entrance of Mr Utterson's mansion, or should I say my mansion in this dream, my thoughts were tangled by the recent events that had unfolded this evening.
I began flying up the stairs, to see if the boy was alright. Once I entered the room, I noticed the boy was awake, just looking with shame at the ground, as the local doctor was taking care of his wounded arm.
"Good evening, Doctor. How is he?" I inquired while bowing down, my voice carrying a blend of concern and urgency. The maid, her hands stained with the remnants of the boy's ordeal, looked up from her hushed conversation with the doctor. Her eyes bore the weight of the events that had transpired.
"He's stable for now, sir/ma'am/mx," she replied, her tone measured but tinged with a sad note. "The doctor has tended to his wound, and we've made him as comfortable as possible."
A sigh of relief escaped my lips, though the gravity of the situation lingered. "And the doctor, is he confident in the lad's recovery?" I pressed further, my gaze shifting to the weary physician who stood nearby, his expression etched with professional concern.
"He'll need time to heal, but I believe he'll pull through," the doctor reassured, adjusting his spectacles. "The wound isn't too severe, and with proper care, he should recover fully. We do recommend to monitor him and make sure he doesn't get more hurt."
I looked at the innocent boy, who didn't even look up at me. "May I have a few minutes to speak to him?"
The doctor nodded, as he walked out of the room, the maids following. I looked at the blond child with a small melancholic smile. "You'll be alright, young one! May I ask you for your name if you don't mind?"
"Oliver..." The boy muttered in shame. The name did remind me of another novel which I remember having to read back when I was a child: "Oliver Twist". Though I can't remember what it was about, I did remember the character of Oliver. A small orphan boy who had a very hard life. "...Please don't send me back to the streets, sir/ma'am/mx!"
"I wasn't even planning on doing that. What kind of monster would throw away a child to the streets?" I looked at Oliver in pity—poor boy.
"You truly are too kind to me, sir/ma'am/mx." He sniffled, tears staining his pale face. I put a hand on his left shoulder, the upper arm which hadn't been harmed by the gunshot, and patted it in a comforting manner.
"Don't even mention it, young Oliver." I smiled at him. "So tell me, how did you end up here?"
The boy remained silent. "I would much rather not talk about it..." He muttered. That was understandable. He was after all a scared child, and I am not a cop to interrogate him.
"I understand. Don't worry about it. Oliver, please don't consider me to be your enemy, for I want to be your friend." I smiled at him.
The young boy didn't say anything, but just looked at me and smiled. I smiled back, trying to make him at least feel comfortable around me and not as if I'd send him to the guillotine at any second. Suddenly, the church's bells rang in the distance, signalling that it was midnight.
"I think you should get some rest, young one. We can talk more tomorrow." I said, tucking him under the mattress.
"Goodnight, sir/ma'am/mx!" He smiled at me, before turning to his side and falling asleep. I exited the room, smiling at the figure of the young boy in Mr. Utterson's bed.
Well, should I go back to Mr Enfield and...Mr Hyde... Just thinking about his name makes me shudder, especially after seeing that nasty mocking grin he gave me. I don't think it would be a good idea to come back to that place again... And what should I do now before this dream or whatever it is ends?
Maybe I could look through Mr Utterson's safe, as he's a lawyer and has documents on various clients. Maybe I could find something embarrassing that I could laugh at, like maybe a cheese stealer! I know it sounds lame, but I have to admit, the Victorian times weren't the most interesting...I mean, except for fantasy books written in those times like Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norell, or at least from what I heard about it.
I started exploring Utterson's mansion so I could find the safe. As I paced around the mansion for a few minutes, I finally found the safe. It was in a secluded part of the mansion, hidden away from all the rooms. I tried opening the door, but it was locked. Maybe I have a key in this coat I'm wearing...
As I was rummaging through the coat's pocket, I finally found some keys. I started testing every key to the safe, trying to find a way to unlock it.
After testing the third key, the door opened. Bingo! I entered the room and was immediately overwhelmed by the cabinets surrounding me. This will be a very long night...
There were a lot of documents. Some of them were about various murderers, one of them with the name of "The Whitechapel Murderer", and some of them were simple cases of pickpocketing. Among the documents, one caught my attention—a letter bearing the seal of Dr. Jekyll. My fingers traced the embossed emblem, and I delicately opened the letter.
"In the case that Henry Jekyll, Doctor of Medicine, Doctor of Civil Law, Doctor of Law, and a member of the Royal Society, dies, all his possessions shall bequeathed to his friend and sponsor, 'Edward Hyde'.
In the event of Dr. Jekyll's disappearance or absence from society for a period of at least 3 months, Edward Hyde shall inherit all of Henry Jekyll's possessions and property immediately. Save for a small amount of money, which he shall distribute to Dr. Jekyll's family."
From what I understood...this is Jekyll's will. Wait, this might foreshadow what happens at the end. If it does, it might mean that Jekyll will potentially commit suicide. I think he did just that at the end of the book. But wait, this is just a dream, right? I'll wake up at any moment. I won't remain here forever. I just forgot that I was merely dreaming right now. Silly me.
With that, I put the letter back in the safe, pleating it neatly, and walked back to the room where Oliver was sleeping. As I entered, I noticed a quite expensive-looking sofa at the end of the bed. It looked big enough to fit a sleeping adult, which was perfect for me for I have to 'go to sleep' and hope that it isn't too late back at the antique store. I do admit, that this dream was quite interesting, but I need to wake up now.
And with that, I forced myself to fall asleep.
I heard church bells ringing in the background, as I blearily stretched my arms and yawned. As I opened my eyes, I noticed that I was still in Mr.Utterson's room. Huh... That's strange.
I got up and began looking again through the surroundings. The room was the same as in the dream...Wait, am I stuck here? Did I get cursed? What is going on?!
Closing my eyes, I tried to return to my world, even saying affirmations in my head to trick my brain into returning to the realm of the real.
"Good morning, Sir/ma'am/mx. What are you doing? You look quite silly at the moment." I opened my eyes and turned around, to see Oliver looking at me, with a dimpled smile on his lips that I hadn't seen at all on him. "Well... I was just admiring the room." I lied.
"I do have to admit, Sir/ma'am/mx, that this mansion does look very expensive, compared to all the places I've come across. Thank you very much for taking me under your wing!" The boy smiled melancholically.
"No problem, young Oliver. I forgot, that I never introduced myself. How irresponsible of me!" I chuckled as I walked towards him, and sat at the end of the bed. "My name is (Y/N) Utterson. I hope we can become friends soon!" I said, as if I was a parent to him.
"A friend? But nobody wants to be friends with street rats like me, especially an adult like you, Mr/Miss/Mx (Y/N)!" The boy said, not believing me.
I began laughing a little as to comfort him. "Everybody needs a friend, even a "street rat" as you call yourself."
Oliver smiled at me. I decided to hug the boy, making sure not to touch his sensitive wounded right arm. This seemed to have shocked the young boy as his breath hitched. I didn't even know this boy too well, yet my maternal/paternal instincts were kicking in. It was as if he was my son.
After all, as I said, even a "street rat" deserves someone to take care of them in their life.
(A/N): Hello dearie! I'm really sorry if this chapter came out late, I recently went on a date (Which was more of me and my date going through bookstores and talking about characters from various books cuz we're lame), and that's the reason the chapter came out kind of short and different from other chapters. I tried writing something more wholesome for once, and I think it turned out too cheesy 😔
Either way, I promise the next chapters will be more thrilleresque, as we'll meet Dr. Lanyon and finally, Dr Jekyll.
And with that, I hope you have a swell day!~Luce
