We have stories that spring from the human imagination of evil spirits and spooks and “things that go bump in the night.” They invade our dreams and leave us listening for mysterious sounds as we lie in our beds waiting for morning’s light. Over the past 150 years, there have been plenty of them, such as Mary Shelley’s “Frankenstein,” and Bram Stoker’s “Dracula.”

As it turns out, one of the scariest monsters — is us.

If you don’t believe me, ask Stephen King. We are the creatures who transform from community leaders to merciless killers in the blink of an eye. We are fascinated by serial killers and murderers because they often look just like us.

Take Ted Bundy, for instance. For a while, he seemed to blend right in; a handsome, personable fellow — who confessed to killing 30 women. How’s this for irony? Bundy worked as the assistant director of the Seattle Crime Prevention Advisory Commission. He also worked for a state agency whose members searched for the women he killed.

One could say, “You can’t make this stuff up,” but apparently Robert Louis Stevenson did in 1886. Stevenson’s macabre masterpiece “The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde,” about a revered physician in Victorian England who is not who he appears to be, has been capturing our imaginations ever since.

If you haven’t read it or seen it, you’re in luck. Right now, and just in time for Halloween, there happens to be a really good production of it playing at the Collaborative Theatre Project in Medford, through Oct. 29.

This production of “Jekyll and Hyde” is intriguing for a number of reasons. First, Stevenson’s ghastly tale has been cleverly reworked by playwright Jeffrey Hatcher, who has expanded the characters to become multidimensional. There’s a mad scientist running around trying to literally reinvent himself. There’s also a few Mr. Hydes representing various aspects of Jekyll’s character on the loose. Not to worry, though. It all gets sorted out in the end.

We have director Eric Poppick to thank for keeping all these characters interacting with good timing, devilish intent and dastardly deviousness. Why, Freud himself would have been amused. Had the various personalities of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde not been so well defined, this play could have been confounding. As it stands, there are seven actors playing approximately 15 characters and doing it with finesse in a well-coordinated manner.

We have Dr. Henry Jekyll, a respected London doctor who as of late has not been himself — in more ways than one. He is experiencing a change in personality his housemaid and colleagues are definitely beginning to notice. Dr. Jekyll presents at first as a fine upstanding fellow. He is very concerned when a young woman’s body shows up in the dissecting theater of the College of London hospital after having been raped and murdered. Dr. Jekyll is outraged by his colleague, Sir Danvers Carew, and his insulting assessment of the young woman’s character based on the condition of her body, and he proceeds to explain what really happened to her — that she was an innocent victim and did not deserve her fate.

Interestingly, Dr. Carew is later beaten to death with a cane that has at one time or another been in the possession of Dr. Jekyll and possibly Mr. Hyde.

As the story progresses and more people are murdered, Dr. Jekyll’s behavior becomes increasingly erratic. During the course of the play, people Dr. Jekyll knew or was friends with turn up dead, and for a while the clues seem to lead to an introverted man who never seems to be home, named Mr. Edward Hyde, an acquaintance of Dr. Jekyll. Hyde has a penchant for debauchery and visiting prostitutes. Some of Jekyll’s acquaintances suspect Hyde is blackmailing Jekyll and possibly carrying out the murders. He’s an unsavory character, to say the least.

Dr. Jekyll meanwhile, disgusted by his own animalistic nature, especially lust, seeks to control his urges with a potion he has been experimenting with. It is very odd. Mr. Hyde begins to show himself more and more frequently while Dr. Jekyll retires to his lab more often to consume his potion.

The repression of sexuality became a dominant theme in Victorian England. Gentleman were expected to tame their sexual desires, women were expected to remain chaste, and sex was only to be used for procreation and within the confines of the marital bed. There were a number of reasons why sexual expression became closeted; some had religious overtones, while others were based on the spread of sexually transmitted disease. Nevertheless, as prostitutes became more popular, they also turned up dead.

Adam Cuppy plays Dr. Jekyll in an understated, reserved yet tortured way. He definitely understands the dualistic nature of Jekyll.

Ric Hagerman is the perfect counter to Cuppy’s Jekyll, sly and cunning. Hats off to Hagerman, who plays no less than four characters. Kudos to Stephen R. DuMouchel as Dr. Lanyon; Cole Song as a disturbed Hyde No. 1 and Utterson (Jekyll’s friend), and Judith Rosen as Hyde No. 4 and a stalwart maid, along with actor William Coyne.

There’s even a one-sided love story here. Blythe Lloyd plays a quite believable, Stockholm Syndrome-smitten Elizabeth Jelkes, a young woman who becomes infatuated with Hyde. Either that or she doesn’t get out too often. There’s some definite shades of Sweeney Todd meets Hannibal Lecter here, when Hyde decides to take her hostage.

For a production of this caliber, it’s a shame the movement of props was noisy and distracting. A couch wheeled on and off stage actually needed some WD-40. A revolving red door indicating exterior and interior scenes was awkwardly maneuvered. The costumes by Susan Aversa, however, represented Victorian dress in all its top-hatted, vested elegance. Fight choreographer Russell Lloyd’s murder scenes were effective but not gratuitous.

It is a perfect offering for Halloween, but not for little ones. There are lots of surprises. In the case of this Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, it turns out the phrase “he was his own worst enemy” has never rung truer.

Performances of “Jekyll & Hyde” are set for 7:30 p.m. Thursdays through Saturdays and 1:30 p.m. Sundays, through Oct. 29, at Collaborative Theatre Project, 555 Medford Center, Medford. Tickets are $35, $28 for seniors and students. Tickets and information are available at ctpmedford.org, on Facebook, or by calling the box office at 541-779-1055. Group rates are available.