Frankenstein's Monster

Lightning flashed in the sky as a storm began to cover the stars. The moon gave a final withering glow before she vanished behind a veil of chaos. I was left standing in the darkness, watching the sky ignite and cast the abandoned manor in silhouettes. There were no lights on, save a flickering amber hue in the very top window, whose glass was broken from years of neglect.

The great wooden door was broken off of its hinges and laid on the ground outside. I stepped around broken glass and the remnants of rage that littered the entrance. It had once been a lovely estate. Now it sat alone, cold and empty, with the memories of terrorized screams bouncing around its halls. 

I turned, looking in both directions, caught in moments no longer happening. A cry of victory, a lover’s quarrel, a disregarded promise, a woman’s death. Letters sat on the table near the door, forgotten and collecting dust. I glanced through them, noting names of import whose truths had been whispered in my ear by a dozen or so witnesses to their calamity.

Heavy keys sat in my pocket, granted to me by a housekeeper too afraid to enter. My fingers touched them absentmindedly, knowing they had been useless for the front door. Lightning cracked outside, casting an eerie glow in the house. I took my first true steps inward and walked towards the staircase, knowing the one I sought was likely there, n the womb of his creation.

The stairs were wide, carpeted, and dusty. Yet the banister was clean. Finger marks disturbed the dust and had wiped it off, trailing upwards towards higher floors. I glanced up, listening to the rain thunder against the windows as the wind battered the manor. Doors and windows already broken swung and clattered, filling the home with various sounds as the storm played the building as an instrument.

Howling wind hungered, spilling from a broken wide window at the top of the stairs where rain soaked the carpet. I walked upwards, stepping into the puddle, and stopping to peer outward at the once well-kept estate. Now trees grew wild and shrubs expanded in every direction instead of being neat and orderly. Owls hid in the branches, taking shelter from the storm.

Stil upward I climbed, moving past each floor without exploring. Although the home shuddered from the might of the storm, I knew intrinsically that whoo I sought would lay high above, trying to understand something impossible. My lips pursed as I thought off his plight, of the stories that had been told, and of the names that had been uttered.

As I reached the top floor, lightning flashed, and cascading light moved down the hallway to a door at the end. I knew in a heartbeat that would be where he hid. Along the hallway, doors lay open, yet nothing was destroyed here. The windows shivered against the wind but remained whole. The carpet was dry. Compared with the smell of mold and mildew blow, the top floor felt pristine.

I moved slowly, glancing into each room to see what remained. One was a study, with more books than I had seen in a lifetime. Each tome was meticulously cared for. On a desk sat a journal with extensive notes and scribblings, words I could read but whose meaning I could not gleam. Some were perfectly clear, yet others seemed frayed with instability.

The pages were gently flipped as I read the odd note, beginning to gather the truth of the writing. It was a grand experiment, an attempt to be a god and create life without the seed of life, without the womb. I shifted, grimacing at the notion of what it would take to make a new human without human reproduction, and who would that create.

Yet the notes detailed expectations and beyond. It explained the horrific outcome, the terror and fear its creator had lived in. I winced at the words on the page, on the warnings of a monster unlike any other. The pages were worn, as though read over a hundred times, yet carefully handled.

Beside the notebook a book sat open, speaking of philosophy and what it meant to be alive. A book of wistful answers seeking questions we all asked and yet all knew no truth could be divined while alive. I closed it, lifting it into my arm and placing it on the shelf where it had come from. 

I closed the door quietly behind me and continued. The next room was a master bedroom. The bed was in disarray, clothes thrown on the ground, as though someone had left in a rush. I grimaced and walked inside, taking moments to right the bedsheets and make them, then picked up the discarded clothes, all rumpled and some torn, and placed them in a folded pile near the dresser. 

The faint scent of earth and lightning hung in the air. Someone had been sleeping here, yet it seemed they had laid on the floor, ignoring the bed that sat and waited for occupancy. I picked the pillow up from the ground and placed it onto the bed, looking with a strange sadness at the life someone had found wanting.

I lit the lantern that arrested on the nightstand and then sat on the edge of the bed, listening to the rain hit the window. Now and then lightning flashed and illuminated the room, revealing ghosts of the past that faded as the light did. A haunting sadness clung to everything, raising the hair on the back of my neck and gooseflesh on my arms. 

A slow sigh escaped me as truth settled into my bones. I pulled a few logs from the fire, added kindling, and then lit the flames. The small fire erupted as though summoned, dancing near me, drawn to my spark. Warmth flooded the room, driving out the cold and the memories with it.

Dirt lay scattered on the ground by where the creature had been sleeping. I grimaced and checked the basin. Water still rested within. A cloth sat nearby, unused. I gathered the basin and poured the water into the pot by the fire, putting it near the edge to heat it. My bag was set on the ground by the bed before I took a deep breath and walked from the room.

The door waited, final and imposing. It was made of oak and looked heavy. Light filtered through the keyhole from within. I paused and pulled the heavy keys from my pocket. Nothing but the storm could be heard beyond its solid surface. 

I slid the key inside and twisted. It gave an audible click. A frown touched my lips and  I paused, waiting to see if whatever was inside threw the door open. Yet nothing happened. Slowly I turned the handle and pushed it open.

With a great creak, the wooden door revealed the room to me. It was once white, with stone flooring, and a great slab table in the middle. Around its edges, desks and unknown properties sat, lining shelves with books, elixirs, and skeletal creatures. On one desk near the center, a pile of notebooks and written letters sat, rummaged through, and exposed. 

At the zenith of the room, a contraption awaited the roof to be opened and for its great metal arm to be exposed to the storm. Through the glass the night sky flickered, reveling in the storm’s might. Rain battered the window, echoing throughout the chamber. 

A single lantern sat on the desk, casting warm shadows about the space as I looked at its secrets. The experimenting table was empty and cold, old bloody sheets crumbled around its base. Several smaller tables sat nearby, instruments and glass vials resting on them. Here and there a page of notes was abandoned, often stained.

Yet the room was empty. Not a soul could be seen as I took several steps inside, removing the key from the door to take with me. My boots made soft noises that were muffled by the storm’s anger, preventing me from hearing any further movement within.

I stopped as I reached the table, resting fingertips on its icy surface. My eyes scoured the darkness, anywhere shadows hugged bookshelves or cabinets.  Within its shadows, nothing stirred. My brows knit together as I glanced around, wondering if my instinct had been wrong.

Slowly I turned, hands drifting off of the table and falling to my side as I faced the door. He stood, tall and broad, dressed in clothes that didn’t quite fit him. Penetrating eyes stared into me as he loomed, blocking the doorway entirely from view. In the low light, his skin was ashen grey, almost deceased and yet alive looking.

A grim look of pain and determination was painted across his face as he watched me, glancing over my body before coming back to my face as though my clothing would reveal some truth to him. I raised a brow and gestured with empty hands. 

“I’ve been looking for you.”

“Why?” he countered, his hulking figure not approaching nor moving further away. He was close enough I could smell the decay on him and the hints of aftershave he had applied in an attempt to smell other than he was. If he reached out his hand he could easily touch me.

I didn’t back up, though I was keenly aware of the table behind me. “I heard what happened.”

His expression of quiet outrage flinched. “What do you mean?”

It was fishing for details. I paused and took a step towards him. Surprise showed in his eyes before a hint of fear replaced it. “I know how you came to be, and what happened to you on your journey. I also was told what happened to your creator.”

His lip curled. “Would that he was here to meet you for your visit.”

“I’m not here to see him.”

Brows lifted. The skin moved slowly, clinging to a body made of dead people. I took another step forward so that I stood before him. “Why are you here then?”

He was surprisingly eloquent. I had heard he was nothing more than a rambling creature. Yet, here again, was proof that fear told stories before truth did. “Like I said. I heard what happened. I thought you might need a friend.”

“Friend.” He scoffed at the word, tossing it out of his mouth so it landed angrily in the air.

“Everyone needs someone,” I said softly and offered my hand to him. 

Dark eyes stared down at it, his ghostly visage illuminated in the lightning as it flashed. “You aren’t afraid of me? Of what I am?”

“Should I be?” I didn’t move my hand away.

“I am a monster.” He turned away, revealing his back to me. 

I tilted my head, saddened by his pain. “You don’t look like a monster to me. The people who did this to you, who abandoned you and made you suffer? They’re monsters.”

The great shoulders sagged as though the breath went out of the body. I touched his shoulder lightly, barely a caress.

“You cannot believe that,” he said huskily. 

My hand slid down the shoulder to his arm and gently took his hand in mind. “I promise I do. I’m sorry those who should have loved you didn’t.”

His head tilted, eyes looking down to my hand in his. I felt suddenly small, a feeling I wasn’t used to. 

Slowly he turned to look at me. “I needed to understand. He created me.” His other hand gestured to the room. “But no answers lie here save vanity and pride.”

“We can’t put our healing at the feet of those who hurt us. Even if they created us.”

His eyes slowly looked to mine, searching for answers in them I knew he couldn’t find. “I don’t want to be alone,” he finally murmured, softly, as though he were admitting defeat.

I touched his cheek, thumb caressing the strange living dead skin. “You aren’t.”

There was no hesitation as he leaned into my hand, a kind touch he had never before felt. I moved my hand upward, touching his dark hair and running my fingers through it. The eyes slid open and looked down at me, unspoken words showing in his glance.

“Come with me,” I said and lowered my hand. I stepped away, gently tugging on his hand to bring him with me. “There aren’t answers here.”

With a slight nod, he followed me, lumbering behind me as I pulled him into the hall. He ducked beneath the door frame and followed me as I led him into the bedroom. A grimace showed on his face as he hung his head in shame, eyes looking to the place on the floor where he slept.

“Hey,” I murmured, touching his face gently. “There is nothing here wrong. The way you are, entirely, is beautiful.”

The eyes slowly lifted to mine. He tried to believe me, or at least wanted to.

I put my hands on his chest and gently pushed my fingers beneath the oversized jacket he kept on his body. “Can I undress you?”

Surprise showed in his eyes before he nodded, moving his hands to help. 

“That’s okay. Let me.” I gently took the jacket from him, then his shirt. With slow and soft touches I knelt before him, pulling off shoes and pants and undergarments until he was naked before me. Stitches lined various parts of the grey flesh, bits of bodies sewn together. Hands didn’t match and neither did feet.

I caressed his arms and drifted my hands back to his. “Come. Sit.” 

We moved to the bed where he sat. I pulled the water from the edge of the fire and opened the lit, checking the temperature before dipping the cloth inside. He sat, breathing softly, as I washed his feet and legs, taking my time to be gentle with each part of his body stitched together. 

I knocked the dirt from wounds and cleaned toenails and fingernails. My fingers gently massaged, careful to not pull on the skin as I wiped his body down, pulling away the old stretch of death. His eyes slid closed as the heat touched him, letting him drift away into a world of gentle caresses. 

As I slid the warm cloth over his inner thigh he groaned and grabbed my hand in his. “You don’t have to.”

My eyes flicked up to him. “I would like to if you want me to.”

“No one has ever touched me. Not like this.”

My palm touched his face. “You’re beautiful. Thank you for letting me.”

He rose a tentative hand to my face, not yet touching the skin. “Can I?”

I nodded and gently guided his hands to my face. Fingers brushed my cheek and slid down to caress my neck before going back to my face. I leaned closer to him, standing between his legs as he explored the curves of my features. The digits slowly moved to my hair, touching the strands neatly resting in a braid.

“Can I release your hair?”

A smile touched my lips and I nodded. He used two hands, tenderly unwinding the thread and letting the long strands fall against my back. Fingers brushed through it. Absent-mindedly he brought it to his face, smelling the scent that was uniquely mine.

“Can I finish bathing you?” I asked softly. 

His eyes slid open, glancing up at mine in new awareness. The hand dropped, letting my hair fall. If he could have flushed he would have. He swallowed loud enough to hear before a slight nod was given. “Yes.”

I knelt, pulling the cloth from the warm water and wringing it out. My hands gently guided the cloth over his thighs and his groin, exploring his length and below. Soft groans escaped him as he released a shuddering breath. Blood pooled, expanding him in my hands.

Quietly I cleaned him, then I slid the cloth back into the basin and looked up at him. His hands gripped the edge of the bed, holding as though he would fall over. Our eyes met and I smiled, softly. 

“Can I see you?” he asked.

I tilted my head. “You are.”

His lips twitched into a shy smile. “I mean, as you see me.” There was a pause before he finally looked back to mine. “Naked.”

I smiled and stood. “Do you want to undress me?”

The eyes widened with a new surprise. His body twitched in eaagernesss. He rose, hands touched the buttons of my shirt that he unfastened, slowly, as though eating a delicious meal. Fingers caressed and brushed my skin, running over every tattoo and scar with profound affection. There was strength that was subdued in every gentle touch. 

He removed the layers slowly, unfolding me before him until I stood as naked. Dark eyes watched my face before searching over my body. One hand touched my shoulder, afraid to stray any further down.

“Can I kiss you?” I asked him, looking up to him as he looked at me.

“Please,” he breathed. 

Our lips met, soft and curious. He hesitated, holding still as he learned a new skill in a heartbeat. Then he came to life, lips exploring my own. Strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me up and against him. He inhaled sharply as our skin met, a groan escaping. Naturally, he moved backward, sitting on the edge of the bed with me pressed against him.

I lifted my legs, straddling his lap as our kiss deepened. His cool hands wandered over my back, exploring and caressing every inch of my skin. Tender kisses moved along my jawline to my throat, pulling sweet whimpers from my lips. I ran my fingers through his hair, kissing his shoulder and neck in return until our lips hungered for each other once more and returned to embracing.

The kiss lingered. He leaned back, laying down on the bed. My hair poooled aaruond us, ttonggues daancing and tasting eaach other. His hands touched my legs and slid upwards, cupping my hips and running over my back, tracing the outline of my spine and sliding over my arms until his fingers curled with mine.

I felt him hard beneath me but lost myself in his kiss. Hunger stirred beneath but its tenderness pulled me in. Long moments passed as our mouths explored each other, until we gently parted, panting for air. 

Eyes peered into mine as he searched for something without words. I leaned down, kissing him once more as he unknotted our fingers and wrapped me in his arms. With a small effort, he rolled us, keeping me beneath him as our embrace lingered.

I lifted my legs, wrapping them around his hips as though I had always done so. Our kiss broke as I felt the tip of him press against my opening, yet not sliding within. He looked into my eyes, wonder and lust in equal measures. “May I?” he barely managed to breathe.

I nodded, my legs moving to pull him in. He shivered and slowly pressed forward, pushing within my depths inch by inch. A moaning release escaped his lips that I caught in my own, meeting his cry with a kiss. Our tongues met once more as moans collided, filling the fire-lit room with delight.

His hips paused, letting him fill me before slowly pulling back. I moaned as he slid inward again, a slow rhythm beginning to emerge as we rocked together on the bed. Our lips never left each other. Hands found one another, fingers entwining. We held to each other as our bodies moved, pressure forming between us as breathing turned to panting and whimpers to cries of ecstasy.

With increasing thrusts, I shuddered beneath him, moaning into his mouth in pure delight. He moved faster, coming to a natural climax as we quivered and I cried out, the pressure building within erupting outward and filling me. My back arched as my fingers tightened around his, pulling him with me.

My lover cried out, a half groan half snarl, lips parting from mine as his face buried in my hair. Hips still as I felt the release pump inside of me, twitching out of me. A soft moan fell from my lips as I unlaced our fingers and ran my hands over his back, holding him to me. 

He panted beside me, still resting within. I turned my head, kissing his forehead as I listened to his breathing, as human as any born man. 

“Stay with me, please?” he murmured, looking into my eyes as he caressed my hair. 

I brushed my knuckles against his face. “I won’t leave. I promise.”

For the first time, I saw him smile. He raised his head to gently catch my lips with his own, pulling me back into our tender embrace.