Where the wild roses grow

Jacob showed me the rest of his paintings. All of them are identical. Every last one depicts Mr. Hyde with his back turned to the viewer staring at the same house in the same field of roses.

Jacob's eyes suddenly widened as I looked at the paintings and tried to discern whether they were copies of one another. (They were not; each was painted by hand.) He left the room, and a few minutes later, he returned with painting materials and began to work. It was the same painting as always.

"Wait," I said, "what are you doing?"
"I'm... painting," Jacob said, not looking up. "Don't bother me. I need... I need to work."
"What are you painting?" I asked, hoping to get something more useful out of him.
"The man who knows where the wild roses grow. The smiling man."
"Who is he? Do you know anything more about him?"
Jacob growled under his breath. The sound was animal and pained. "He's the god in my head. He..." Jacob gripped the paintbrush harder. "He's the end of all of us."

Jacob stared at the painting in silence. It was the same painting as usual, as I said. He was able to complete it quickly. Seeing his work, he dropped the paintbrush on the ground and howled, grabbing at his head in what seemed to be pain.

After a moment, Jacob seemed to recover. "He's getting... louder... he's getting louder and I don't know how to get him out."
"Out?" I said, trying to keep my voice steady as I leaned down beside him. "Out of where?"
"Out of my... out of my brain. Oh, God, it hurts... he's filling my head with his thoughts and it hurts... he's not human. I'm not supposed to have the thoughts he has. I can't... can't take it. I can't..."

Jacob groaned and collapsed onto the floor. I grabbed him before he hit the ground and lifted him onto a chair to rest. I was completely uncertain of how to respond beyond that. As I kept watch over his sleeping form, Jacob began to stir fitfully. He was evidently having terrible nightmares, but I was unable to awaken him. Whatever I did, he remained unconscious.

Finally, Jacob opened his eyes. They looked empty and afraid. With that, he got up and moved to his bed with my assistance. He never asked me why he had been unconscious, and I could only presume that this had happened to him before.