Super Trick or Treat System

My reason was shaken, but it did not completely disappoint me. I have observed more than once that in my second role, my talent seems to have reached a certain level, and my spirit is more tense. Therefore, Hyde may succumb to this, Hyde rises to the importance of the moment. My drugs are in the press in my cabinet. How can I contact them? That was the problem I had to solve by myself that broke my temple. I closed the laboratory door. If I tried to enter the house, my own servant would consign me to the gallows. I saw that I had to use the other hand and thought of Layan. How to reach him? How to persuade? Suppose I escaped a captive in the street, how do I enter his presence? And an unfamiliar and unpleasant visitor, how should I deal with the famous doctor to make fun of his colleague Dr. Jekyll's research? Then I remembered my original role, and the remaining part was left to me: I can write with my own hand; once I think of the kind of spark that ignites, the way I must follow becomes clear from beginning to end.

Immediately, I did my best to arrange the clothes, and summoned the passing Hansom to drive to a hotel on Portland Street. The name reminded me. It was ridiculous enough when I appeared, although these clothes covered the tragic fate of fate, the driver could not hide his joy. I bit him with a burst of demonic anger. His smile faded from his face-happy for him-happier for myself, because in another instant, I must have pulled him off his perch. When I entered the hotel, my face looked so dark that it made the waiter tremble. They did not exchange expressions in front of me; but reluctantly accepted my order, took me to a private room, and gave me enough letters. Hyde is in danger of life, which is new to me. Furiously racking his brains to murder, longing to cause pain. But this creature is very clever. He tried his best to control his anger; wrote his two important letters, one to Layan and one to Poole; and he might receive information about the actual evidence they were posted and then send it out And indicate that they should register. Since then, he has been sitting on the stove in the private room all day with his nails. He ate there, sitting alone with fear, the waiter clearly struggling before his eyes. So, when night fell, he sat on the corner of a closed taxi and shuttled back and forth on the streets of the city. He, I said-I can't say, me. The child in **** has no human beings. He has no life except fear and hatred. Finally, thinking that the driver was becoming suspicious, he got out of the taxi, then hiked, wearing his untimely clothes with objects to be seen on it, and entering among the passengers at night. These two basic passions are like a storm on him. Rage in the body. He walked fast, was chased by fear, talked to himself, grassed on infrequent roads, and a few minutes still separated him from midnight. After a woman talks to him, I want to provide a box of lights. He slapped her in the face and she ran away. After a woman talks to him, I want to provide a box of lights. He slapped her in the face and she ran away. After a woman talks to him, I want to provide a box of lights. He slapped her in the face and she ran away.

When I'm looking for myself, the horror of my old friend may have affected me to some extent: I don't know; I don't know. Looking back on these hours, at least a drop in the ocean. Changed me. It was no longer the fear of the gallows, it was the horror that made Hyde tortured. I was partly condemned by Layan in my dream. It is part of the dream that I go back to my house and go to bed. After a day of prostration, I fell asleep, slept deeply, couldn't sleep, and even the nightmare that bothered me could not be broken. I woke up in the morning trembling, weak but refreshed. I still hate and worry about the violent behavior in my deep sleep, and of course I have not forgotten the terrible danger of the previous day. But I was back home in my own house, near my drugs; the gratitude for my escape became so strong in my soul that it could almost match the brilliance of hope.

After breakfast, I walked leisurely on the court, happily sipping the coolness of the air, and when I was caught again by those indescribable feelings that herald changes; I only had time to cover up my cabinet, and then again. Once became angry and cold because of Hyde's passion. In this case, it took me twice as long to remind me of myself. ! Six hours later, when I sat sadly in the stove, these behemoths came back and had to take the drug again. In short, from that day on, it seemed that only a lot of effort was made in gymnastics, and only under the immediate stimulation of drugs, I could put on Jekyll's face. At all times of day and night, I will be trembling with pre-vibration. Most importantly, if I fall asleep, or even hit the chair for a while, I am always awakened like Hyde. Under the pressure of this continuous doom, as I now condemn my insomnia, I even surpassed what I thought I could bear for humans, becoming a creature that was swallowed by myself and emptied by fever, weak and weak. Whether it is physically and mentally, or engrossed in one thought: the horror of my other self. But when I sleep, or when the efficacy of the medicine disappears, I will jump almost without transition because the pain of transformation does not increase so obviously every day, turning into a fantasy full of fantasy, and my soul is filled with unprovoked hatred. It was boiling, and the body seemed not strong enough to hold the surging energy of life. Hyde's power seemed to grow with Jekyll's illness. Of course, the hatred that divides them now is equal on each side. For Jekyll, this is a vital instinct. Now, he has seen the complete deformity of this creature, shared some conscious phenomena with him, and inherited the world with him until death: outside of these connections in the community, this itself is the saddest part of his pain , He regarded Hyde as not only belonging to **** but also inorganic. This is really shocking. The slime in the pit seemed to make cries and sounds; the amorphous dust signaled and committed crimes; dead, and shapeless things should usurp the office of life. Once again, the horror of that rebellion was closer than a wife, and weaved to him more than an eye. Lying in the meat in the cage, he heard the cooing sound and found it difficult to give birth. In every moment of exhaustion, in the sleeping faith, defeated him and abolished him. Hyde's hatred of Jekyll is different. His fear of the gallows drove him to commit suicide and return to his subordinate station instead of alone. But he hated necessity, hated the despair that Jekyll was now falling into, and he was dissatisfied with things he didn't like. Therefore, he would play with me like an ape, blaspheme my handwriting on my own books, burn letters, and destroy my father's portrait. Indeed, if it were not for fear of death, he would have destroyed himself in order to get me involved in the ruins. But his love of life is wonderful. I go further: I feel sick and stiff when I think of him,

It is useless to extend this description, but time has disappointed me. No one has suffered such torture, it is enough; but even these habits bring no, not alleviate habits, but bring some kind of spiritual cruelty and a certain degree of despair. My punishment may have been going on for several years, but the final disaster has now dissipated, and finally cut me from my face and nature. From the day of the first experiment, the salt that I had never replenished has been in short supply. I sent people to buy fresh food and mixed food and drink. What followed was enthusiasm, the first time it changed color, not the second time. I drank it and it was inefficient. You will learn from Poole how I ransacked London. It was futile; now I persuade me that my first supply is impure,

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