If Griffin’s self-inflicted invisibility and ruthless turn—terrorizing Iping, assaulting Dr. Kemp’s house—hooked you, you’ll love how Jekyll’s serum unleashes Hyde, a predatory double who prowls London’s night. Like Griffin, Jekyll believes he can control what he’s made—until the creation overruns the creator, and the city becomes a hunting ground.

If you enjoyed the tense small-town powder keg in Iping—the bandaged stranger, whispers in the inn, fear curdling into mob action—Carrie delivers that same pressure-cooker vibe. Carrie White’s hidden power erupts at a school dance, and the ensuing chaos engulfs her town with the same unstoppable dread Griffin brings when he declares his own reign of terror.

If the relentless pace of Griffin’s flight—the burglaries, the ambushes, the frantic siege at Kemp’s—kept you turning pages, The Running Man matches that momentum. Ben Richards is hunted across a surveillance-state America, every encounter ratcheting stakes and speed the way the Invisible Man’s confrontations spiral from brawl to manhunt to citywide alarm.

If Griffin’s optical experiments blur science and the miraculous—turning a man into a walking impossibility—The Prestige plays the same game. Rival magicians escalate their “Transported Man” trick until Nikola Tesla’s machine enables a feat so uncanny it reads like magic. As with Griffin’s invisibility, the innovation dazzles, isolates its maker, and leaves a trail of moral ruin.

If Griffin’s cold calculus—experiment first, consequences later—struck you, Frankenstein is the ur-story of scientific hubris. Victor assembles life, recoils from his creation, and watches vengeance ripple through everyone he loves—much as Griffin’s quest for power leaves victims from Iping’s villagers to Dr. Kemp, proving that brilliance without responsibility breeds catastrophe.