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Edward Hyde exists so Henry Jekyll can be a perfect gentlemen. His birth was an accident, a mistake. All that makes him him was supposed to be gone. Erased. But instead, one became two, and now they are more monstrous than ever. With his hair that turns white, eyes that glow, and retractable claws, its clear that he isn't human. Isn't normal. Because he is the bad one, the evil one. The one who is blamed. But whose fault is it really? Who decided to drink that simmering brew of sulfur and honey?
Is either if them truly the original? Traits were split between the two, the gentlemanly with Jekyll, the hidden with Hyde. But can he even call himself Henry Jekyll anymore? Who is he if not the original? Those are the questions that keep him up on those far too quiet moments, the rare occasions without Hyde's near constant commentary. And then Hyde proceeds to reinsert his foot inside his mouth, restarting their same old song and dance.
And so he puts back on his mask, smooth porcelain hiding the fractured pieces within. But how long can his crumbling foundations hold?