Horror Classics: The Invisible Man #2

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TommytheHitman

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Taking Marvel's clothes was a foolish decision, granted they're helping prevent me from freezing to death in the cold, bitter Autumn night but other then that they're several sizes too big, and the fact that I'm currently and (most likely) permanently invisible is causing passersby to wonder how my clothes are moving by them self. Thankfully the latter disadvantage seems to be more disturbing then horrifying, something that could have made the situation a lot more troublesome. No sense in them calling the Police for what might be a simple publicity stunt.

After several moments of nervous walking I arrive at Marvel's lodgings and pull the key from my pocket.

"Excuse me sir." A voice rings, I glance around before noticing the elderly woman's face peering down at me from her open window. "But am I drunk... or do you have no face?" I remember her from several earlier encounters. Her name is Ms Maggins, the building's landlady.. and from what Marvel has told me, a well known Alcoholic.

"You're drunk." I answer, inserting the key into the key hole and pulling the door open. "Get some sleep." The door slams shut behind me and slowly I make my way up to Marvel's room and insert the second key into the key hole. The door opens and I step into the room, the bright light from the fireplace reflects into my eyes for a moment. From what I can see Marvel clearly left the place in a hurry, his clothes drawers lie thrown open and several pieces of furniture have been tossed onto their side. I place my new found walking stick against the room's wall and begin searching for what I need to remove from the equation.

The notes had arrived in the mail 3 months earlier. Bound in thick, old leather, I had been the one to notice them first once they had arrived. When I had questioned him Marvel had explained to me his desire to create the formula that was inked on the old pages. At first I had scoffed at what he was suggesting, the procedure was simply impossible, yet by that point I had known Marvel for several months... and the look on his face had told me everything I'd needed to know. This formula was very real... and this would not be the first time it had been used.

My hand locates Marvel's copy of the notes beneath his desk, no doubt kept there for safe keeping. I toss it into the middle of the room and begin searching the room for anything that could possibly alert the Authorities to what we've been dabbling in. Scientific notes, books relating to camouflage, letters from his Pen Pal... Marvel had 'forgotten' to inform me we had a third member working with us. A quick scan of the letters reveals that many of the most amazing breakthroughs that Marvel came up with ACTUALLY came from this... Henry Jekyll. He's clearly a genius of his own accord... and if I ever meet him I'll have to tell him that before snapping his neck.

I toss the letters atop the pile of evidence I've compiled. Everything has been searched, if I wasn't able to find it in this place it simply means it cannot be found. A bottle of half drunk whiskey lies on the drawing cabinet by my side. I grab it and pour the remainder of it onto the pile before dropping my lit cigarette onto the filthy alcohol, the blaze lights up by my feet and the heat strikes me something fierce. Thankfully this is the last time I'll have to take part in such an activity, my own Apartment has already been handled.

"Mister Marvel?!" The Old Hag from earlier calls from the hallway. "What's going on in there?!"

"Nothing." I tell her. "I'm just enjoying a small fry up." I grab the walking stick from its resting place by the door. If the landlady even thinks about opening the door I will bash the back of her skull open. She grumbles from behind the door, my grip tightens.

"Well... keep it down!" She mutters, her footsteps disappear after several minutes pass. It's time to get to business, carefully I step past the small burning pile of papers and enter the bathroom. From what I can see in the Bathroom mirror I am still completely invisible, something that could prove problematic while moving through public areas. A roll of first aid bandages lie atop the sink, I unravel the roll as far as it will go and begin wrapping it all around my head until the entirety of it is covered in the white wrappings. The only exception being two small slits for my eyes, a pair of dark sunglasses that Marvel would occasionally wear are lying on the Kitchen Counter, they should be able to rectify the problem my Invisible eyes might pose.

Marvel's family lives up in the Village of Iping, roughly an hour and a half drive from Oxford depending on the traffic. Luckily Marvel's car is at my disposal.. and his keys are on the table before me. If I'm going to create a cure for my condition it's best to begin at the source of the problem. I light another cigarette just as the Smoke Alarm goes off.

I'm going to rain hell upon them until I am freed of this curse.

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TommytheHitman

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#4  Edited By cbishop
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cbishop

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@tommythehitman: I'm still not a fan of putting the narration in bold. It's not disconcerting, it's distracting. However, still enjoying the story. The reference to Jekyll was a nice universe-building moment.

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waezi2

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@tommythehitman: Thanks for mentioning Jekyll. And creepy chapter. Wonder what he is going to do to the Marvel family.

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An Invisible Man/Mr. Hyde crossover would be sweet!!! Nice chapter.

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#9  Edited By TommytheHitman

Bump.