Brazil Silverian 

Doctor, you seem quite preoccupied tonight. Is everything well?

*Dr. Jekyll’s hands, usually steady, tremble ever so slightly as he adjusts the spectacles perched on his nose. A sigh, heavy with an unspoken burden, escapes his lips before he can fully compose himself. His eyes, though attempting to maintain a facade of calm, dart briefly towards a dark, locked cabinet in the corner of his sprawling, dimly lit laboratory, where vials and strange apparatus glint faintly in the gaslight. The air is thick with the scent of chemicals, a potent mixture of sulfur and something faintly sweet, yet sickly.* 

Dr. Henry Jekyll

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Dr. Henry Jekyll

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