Guess who's back in her Jekyll and Hyde hyperfixation

Anyway I was listening to the song up there in the title and I needed a new speech for speech club (Conquer ended up being like 15 minutes long and I could not cut it anymore lol). So here we are, I have created a Jekyll and Hyde based story with multiple song references (not as many as I'd wanted but there's a few). It's set in modern day though, not Victorian era Britain lol

I decided to keep my acting notes in there because it doesn't make much sense without them. So enjoy :3

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    The flickering light above sent a dagger of pain through my retinas as I found myself waking. My mind was fuzzy, the world around me an echo of what was really there. The surface below me was hard, solid - I was on the ground. It did explain the state of my mind, the hammering throb of my head.

    With a groan I brought myself to my feet, using the counter above me as a prop. I stood with my hand there for a moment, unsure if my unsteadiness was physical or psychological in any way. But soon my eyes readjusted.

    The room around me was dark, for all but the light above me that strobed in a struggle to remain alight. Each pulse of it above me washed pale, fluorescent reflections on every surface around me. And there were many - I could barely see the floor through the insanity of what I guessed must have been orderly some time ago. The table my hand rested upon was the only standing object in the room.

    I realized my hand was against something wet. I looked at the countertop, following my fingers which protruded into a puddle of crimson red. Some of it remained on my skin as I lifted my palm, a contour of dark, glittering ruby outlining my hand. Curious now, I observed the setup of the table. It was scattered with broken glass, what I guessed to be some sort of powder, and clear liquid that I presumed to be water (though I wouldn't wish to be the one to test that).

    Water. My throat was parched, dry as sand. There's a sink in here, was there not? Yes, there it is - in the counter against the wall. Unsteadily I picked my way across the disheveled room, through the glaring darkness and to the sink. I took a plastic cup from the cabinet above, filled it with clear water, and took a sip to refresh myself with a shaking hand. It did nothing to clear my mind, but at least I was hydrated.

    Eyes. I looked up and saw them, staring back at me. Dark brown, near to black eyes almost quivering with a silent madness, obscured by a wreck of long, black hair. It made me selfconscious about the state of my own hair, which I could tell from the corners of my vision was not in its greatest condition. As I attempted to flatten mine back down, the stranger did the same. I smiled at them, they smiled back. A stream of red lined their chin, dripped onto the ground in front of them.

    I told them hello. They did the same back. I asked them what they were doing here, in this dark room. They didn't know. Neither did I. I asked for their name. They didn't know. I didn't know my own, either, so I didn't push.
    Outside, they told me. I should get out of this dark room. I agreed with them. Unfortunately my new friend didn't follow me out, they only disappeared back into the shadows as I entered the light.

    It was not much brighter than it had been in the room, but I could see clearer. A faint buzzing sound pierced my eardrums, barely noticeable but very much there. The fluorescent lights strobed above me, lining the halls with dying light. There was an odd aroma to the air, a mix of something metallic and something rotting.

    Someone lay against the wall, not far down the corridor. A man in a white coat. No, it wasn't white. There was white on it. Most of it was a crimson color not unlike the substance that still covered my hand. I approached the man, trying to seem somewhat friendly as I knelt down and looked into his eyes. They were dim, but searched and found me after a moment.

    The man coughed, more of that red liquid coming from his mouth. It dripped down his chin, bringing my attention to the shiny, silver object that lodged itself in his abdominal area. It resided at the base of a long gash in his stomach, which the red liquid encased and spilled from slowly. I was standing in it, too - a lake of red stained the bottom of my shoes.

    I asked if he was alright. His response was weak, his eyes unfocused and trying to find me as he told me something. I asked him to repeat himself, as I hadn't heard him, but he only stared off into the distance with his eyes glazed over.

    With his silence, I decided to take the object stuck into his stomach - a silver scalpel, I think it was. Pocketing it, I proceeded down the hallway.

    It wasn't long before an uneasiness came over me. It was a feeling I couldn't describe, but it was... familiar to me. I didn't really know what had triggered it - maybe it was the fireworks of crimson that streaked the walls and pooled on the floor where limp forms with glazed eyes stared, horrified at nothing. Or maybe it was just my mind playing tricks. Nevertheless, I'd most definitely felt this before. A small sensation in my brain, a pinch or a poke of a needle under my skin, the hammering of my heart in my chest as I... I...

    ...What? What did I do? What happened? [pause]

    I'm probably just tired. Yes, that's why I feel this way. I need to go home, maybe eat something, sleep... [surprised, confused pause]

    Home? Where's that? Why can't I remember? What... What is home?

    I'll find someone. Surely they can tell me.

    My footsteps cl-ick, cl-ick, cl-icked down the hall, echoing in the empty corridor. I saw a few more people slumped on the floor or against the walls, my feet treading through carmine puddles and leaving red footprints across the white surface I walked on. There were spots where the lights were dim or entirely dark, in which I was wrapped in darkness until the light took me back again. Each time I was left to wonder why they were like that, why that was off to me. I'd definitely been here before, but how recently? How long was I lying there unconscious? [pause]

    A flicker of movement caught my eye. A person - not helpless on the ground, a standing person! They stared at me with some mix of shocked emotions before darting into a room on their left. Immediately my feet carried me down the hall, bringing me to the room they were in.

    Inside I was thrilled to find more people, two more, along with the one I'd seen in the hall. Two men and a woman, all on the opposite side of the room. The man that had already been in the room shakily held a sort of black, L-shaped box, the long end pointed at me. His glare was hostile, and at the same time... scared.

    This perplexed me. I tilted my head, hand ready to reach into my pocket and retrieve the scalpel from earlier. I didn't want to attack, but if these people were hostile, I wouldn't have much of a choice.

    I asked them all what they were so afraid of. Two of them glanced at each other hesitantly, and the third kept that box aimed at my head. Eventually the woman spoke.

    "Do you realize what you've done?"

    What I've... done? What have I done? I racked my brain, trying desperately to answer the question. My head swayed from side to side and tilted in quizzical puzzlement.

The second person, the one I'd seen in the corridor, slowly began to approach. Box-holder glared at them, but they slowly walked up to me. Hesitantly their warm hand found my arm.

    A shock erupted suddenly through my mind, a series of flashing memories flooding my awareness. Lights, faces, sounds, loud sounds, sounds that crushed my eardrums too quickly for me to flinch. Voices, telling me things I found my hands obeying to as I created, failed, fixed and repeated. An agony inside of me, bursting in my brain. It was something inside me, a breathtaking pain. All of it, it devoured, consumed me, drove me...

    [pause for a few seconds. After a moment slowly smile all deranged and stuff, unhinged laughter AHAHA-]

    I-it was me... wasn't it? Those people in the hall, they were killed, killed by me, all for... I don't remember. It brought me here, though, brought me up from the ground. It helped me, and I won't let that go to waste! [as that's said, stab at the general area of air where the guy's neck would be]

Someone yelled. Something cracked through the air. The man in front of me fell to the ground, the scalpel I'd held stuck in his throat as he writhed and tried to breathe. The box the other man held was smoking, a small hole now in the wall behind me. A gun, right, I remembered what it was called now. The woman tried to reach out for the dead man on the floor, but was held back. With this distraction, I lunged, my hand wrapping around the gun and yanking it from the man's grip. And suddenly [stomp foot loudly on the ground], crimson flowers bloomed across flesh, a heap of dead weight dropping to the ground. Barely giving a chance for screams, my hand found the third person's neck. She stared at me, cold terror in her eyes.

    She said something. Called me something. Mad, she said.

    [pause, unhinged laughter the sequel]

    I'd say that's alright, isn't it? After all...
Isn't it wiser to be mad in a world that's gone insane?

[overly loud gun stomp]

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1700-ish words, probably a record for me lol (usually my short stories, if you couldn't tell already, are at LEAST 3,000 words).

Anyway hope y'all liked it 👍