The Gentleman & The Doctor

 The streets of London were littered with large puddles of rain as it fell heavily upon the Earth; the grey skies above darkened by the blanket of night and looming clouds that hovered above the city with no promise of clarity or solace. This rain had been serving as an endless plague for many days now.
Day and night, it continued without pause. Many of the people longed to see the sun again..or at least the clear sky of night, to see the world of stars just beyond their reach.

Little stirred in the downpour. Most stayed indoors to avoid being drenched. But something else troubled the citizens of London. Not just the unusual weather..a presence had entered the city.
A presence unlike anything they had ever felt. A dark shadow had been cast and it made them weary.
It was a shadow that felt unnatural and sickening. But for the life of them, they couldn't explain why.
Or where it had come from. And thus brought them frustration. A restless despair had settled in the hearts of the people. And there was none who could provide any answers.

Amongst the blackened streets, the only light being low-wicked lanterns, which reflected on the piled rain on the brick ground below, walked a colorless figure. Silent, tall..carrying a cane which he used to tap away obstacles to avoid dirtying his hands. He had a strong grip around the glistening silver balled handle..and the level of force he used to tap his surroundings was surprising due to his deceiving build. He trudged elegantly around the streets, aiming for a destination unknown. Only three times did he bother to glance at the sky above, knowing full well there would be no change.

He continued on his way in silence, completely alone on his mysterious journey.
As soon as he reached the end of a corner, he stopped, leaned against the side of a building, and pulled out a paper from his pocket. He hovered his arm over it to avoid it being saturated, and he peered forcefully using the poor light of the lantern behind him to read the paper's contents.
While the glossy brown item had become soggy at the ends, forcing him to hold it up by all its sides, the writing remained untouched. It was written in delicate thick black ink cursive. An address.
An address set in Cavendish Square.

The man's eyes lifted from the paper back to the street ahead of him and a hidden smirk traced across his lips. He was getting closer. With this knowledge, he stuffed the paper back into his waistcoat, took hold of his cane once more and resumed his walk along the dark London streets.
He passed many buildings, many shops, many residents. Even a pub that's entrance was blocked by two clearly drunk men who held their mugs up to the man in a 'cheers' gesture and one drooled out,
"End o' the world, mate! Shadow 'as come t' London!"

The man stopped in his tracks and looked to them, then swung his cane over his shoulder and rested it there as he pivoted his body in their direction and studied them only for a moment. As there wasn't much to study given their graceless state. "Shadow has come, indeed. Though not in the way you assume, I suspect."

The man only grogged, not directly replying to the man he had just spoken to, and leaned back against the frame of the doorway, jugging down the last of his drink. Finding little interest in the two, the man sniffed in secret disgusted disapproval and boredom before pivoting back and proceeding on his way. "Goodnight, gentlemen."

For several more minutes, he strolled across the streets in continued silence, lifting his head up only to check street addresses. The rain only seemed to get worse the further he traveled, and the ominous feeling that came with it. That something, somewhere, had arrived. But it did the man little concern.
His focus was set on one thing and one thing only.

Once he entered a street of very little activity, seeing that all lights were off inside the homes save for one, his head turned to that particular residence, and his mysterious smirk returned.
Gracefully, he took a step to the left and approached the home in a calm, steady pace, carrying himself elegantly. In only a matter of seconds, he was across the street and at the doorstep.
He took another glance at the glowing yellow light shining through the shrouded windows, then at the lantern sitting next to the door-frame, as rain continued to pour not only on him, but all around him, and a looming fog spread throughout the block.

His attention left the scenery and turned back to the door in front of him. With a raise of an arm, he held his hand up and knocked four times. He let a few seconds pass before he once again knocked four times. When the sound of approaching footsteps drifted into earshot, he lowered his arm back to his side and tapped his shoes patiently, humming quietly to himself. The door had not yet been opened.

In the corner of his eye, he spotted something ever-so-slightly flinch at the window and in response, darted his gaze to it. A figure was hidden behind the curtain, his face barely clear enough to make out, visibly peeking from the slat he opened up with his finger to check and see who was at the door. Thinking he was perhaps unseen, he made quite a startled jump when the stranger waved his index and middle fingers at him, equipped with a charming smile that glistened radiantly in the partial darkness.

The figure behind the curtains backed away immediately, stepping out of view.
At first, it seemed the resident of this beautiful Victorian home had ran off to hide, obviously skiddish about new visitors. However, this turned out not to be the case.
Not a moment later, movement was detected from the other side of the door, and one by one, each lock was disengaged and the knob was twisted and pulled.

The inside was revealed when a tall, middle-aged Englishman swung open the door, a look of confusion embedded on his aging face and hazel eyes. Worry soon mixed in once he looked at the man up and down. The man, meanwhile, grinned exquisitely at the one before him, and he rose his arms up gracefully, holding both his cane and removed top hat. "Ah, Dr. Jekyll! What an honor, sir, truly an honor!" With one arm tucked into his chest, he bent down and bowed in respect, rising back just to smile warmly. "You've no idea the lengths it took me to find this place..more importantly you."
He removed his gloves and cleared his throat, turning his head a second to yet again check the sky.
"W--w---"
He looked back at Jekyll, who was currently trying to find his words, the good doctor still holding the door open and shaking his head in escalating confusion.

"Who--who--" "Who am I?" Jekyll looked at him. The man again smiled charmingly and bowed his head. "Dorian Gray, at your service, sir."
Jekyll's head lifted and his look of confusion formed into one of suspicion.
"Dorian Gray...huh..never heard of you."
"Not many have, I'd wager. Not from this part of London, you see. In fact, I don't believe I've ever been to this part of the country before." "How did you find me??" Dorian's eyes returned to the doctor.
"And how do you know my name?"
The young gentleman smiled once more, returning to the level of mystery and intrigue he had carried on the way there. His dark eyes flickered with it.
It was quite clear he had great business with the doctor.
"My dear doctor, these are questions I simply cannot answer out in the open. The things I have to discuss with you are quite case-sensitive, I'm afraid."
"No one has come so far to find me..what's your business here?"
"Don't get many visitors, do you?"
Jekyll's expression melted into a quiet solemn sadness.
"..Not like I used to.."

Dorian looked sympathetic, if only for a minute. "..Right..may I?"
He gestured at the inside of the house. Jekyll tensed in reply, uncertain of what he should do. But when he glanced behind Gray at the rain pouring down without any sign of ceasing, the skies covered with unsettling darkness, and the dark foggy world his visitor had traveled from, he looked back at the young Englishman. His suspicion died down to a reluctant silence. He wasted no more time.
He stepped aside to allow Dorian entry.

CONTINUE TO..
Something To Hide