Peter Ackroyd - The Casebook of Victor Frankenstein

“‘He has a pretty voice,’ the daughter said. ‘Please come out, sir.’

“‘I fear,’ I replied, ‘that my person may not be pleasing to you.’

“‘We do not see many strangers,’ she said. ‘But we are not afraid.’

“I heard her step closer to the barn, and instinctively I shrank back into a corner. Then I saw her shape outlined against the opening.

“It took a moment for her eyes to become accustomed to the gloom-but then she saw me. I have never seen such a look of horror and fear upon any other face. She uttered a confused sound, and then fell upon the floor of the barn. Her father called out her name-it was Jane-and rushed towards her. He caught sight of me at once. ‘Great God! What are you?’ The look of anguish and terror upon his face is one that I shall never forget.

“He took his daughter up in his arms and, with the strength born out of fear, he ran quickly from me across the fields. They had fled from me as from an abhorred thing. I, who had deemed myself worthy of human companionship, was for them a creature of horror and nightmare. I went over to the place where she had fallen, and violently stamped upon the earth; then I fell upon my knees, and beat the ground with my fists. I may have howled, or shrieked, I do not remember. But my thoughts were of rage and revenge-against the father and daughter, against the human species, and against you my creator!

“I do not know how long I remained in my condition of blank despair. I understood then I could never hope for human sympathy, but I had not harmed the smallest creature on the earth. Where had I offended? I sat in my desolation, until I was roused by the sound of horses and of voices. I have a preternatural sense of hearing-you must know that-and they were still far off. But they were coming closer.

“I sensed that the horses were restless as they approached me, and I fled from the barn as if I had committed some great and heinous crime. I took flight across the land, behind the cottage, so that they could not see me on their approach; and I hid myself within a small watercourse that had become dry. At that moment I despised all things that lived-all things that died-but I stayed trembling in my cover. I could have confronted them all, men and horses, but I could not put to the test once more the sensations of horror that I excited in others. I saw them approach the cottage; there were eight of them, three of them with muskets, together with the farmer. He pointed towards the barn where I had sheltered. One of them shouted something, in warning or defiance, and they very slowly came up to it with their guns primed. Of course I was nowhere to be found. Then they turned back and went towards the cottage; they encircled it, and the farmer entered only to emerge a few moments later. It was clear that they debated amongst each other, and after a few minutes they moved out in pairs over the surrounding countryside. I lowered myself into the dry course, so that I had fallen below the level of the flat landscape. Two of them came close to me. I heard them talking. One of them exclaimed about a ‘fiend’ or ‘monster.’ There was some reference to ancient legends of the locality, and to the presence of a thing known to them as Moldwark. But it was clear that their knowledge was slight and imprecise. They passed by my hiding place and rejoined the others beside the cottage. There was a discussion between them, and then they all departed.

“I waited until darkness fell, and then I went back. My shame and dismay had once more given way to anger. How could I be described as ‘fiend’ or ‘monster’? I move, I exist, I stir within my prison.

“I took logs and branches, piling them high within the interior of the little cottage; a fierce wind came up from the sea, and drove away the clouds that had obscured the stars. It filled me with purpose, and I lighted the dry branches of a tree; in my unappeasable rage I began to dance around the cottage, watching all the time the great orb of the moon on the western horizon. Then with a loud shout of triumph I fired the dwelling. The flames were soon lifted by the wind until they had taken hold of the whole, and within a short time the cottage was reduced to a smoking ruin. I had achieved my purpose.

“I went back inside the shell, lay down upon the blackened floor, and fell asleep. I awoke with a fresh access of energy-yes, this is the sensation I must put to you. The effect of heat, in any form, is to restore and revivify me. I have learned now to anticipate storm and lightning. I know them to be near, from the scent in my nostrils, and my whole being is excited by their approach. I am made strong by the lightning flash and, when I studied your own notes on the process of my rebirth, I understood the reason. You had divined the electric principles of the human body, and I can testify to their power. I courted the lightning and the thunder, and exulted in the storms that blew over the estuary. Some vast principle of power animates infinity.

“As I read your notes, too, I became wholly absorbed in the narrative of my own discovery. There was some mention of the men who brought me to you, and who exchanged me for money. I had become interested in them. You referred to a public house called the Fortune of War in Smithfield, which I believed that I would be able to find in the great labyrinth of this city. I realised now that before I ventured from the estuary I had to muffle myself as completely as I was able. So I clothed myself. By covering my form with your great cloak, and then by unwinding my stock and fastening it across my face, I was assured that only my eyes and forehead could be seen. In this guise I hoped to avoid detection. By great good fortune this was a time of freezing fog, and the majority of the citizens had covered their mouths and nostrils with scarves or handkerchiefs to protect themselves from the vapour. So I could wander unnoticed through the crowd, except for the delicate apprehension of those closest to me that I was not quite-how can I put it-of the customary sort.

“In this guise I made my way one evening towards Smithfield, and asked for directions to the hospital there. You know the area well, do you not? The public house was a few yards from the entrance and as I approached it I could hear the mayhem of voices and of oaths coming from the interior. So I waited on the corner, just beyond the entrance. I was waiting for three men. It was raining that night but the cool drops hardly reached me. I am a powerful source of heat, and the water is dispersed. There were many who hurried past me, but not one of them looked up at me. A dark stranger, on a dark night, is to be avoided.

“Many people came and went from the inn, but they came out singly or in pairs; some of them reeled out into the night, some of them slouched in the rain, some of them ran across the cobbled stones of Smithfield. I was so intent upon my purpose that I did not grow tired of waiting. Eventually three men came out into the night. One of them gave a violent kick to his companion, as if he had been his dog. I knew then that these were the three men whom I sought. I followed them down a small thoroughfare, keeping my distance from them; they turned a corner, where they stopped and fell into a fierce argument concerning the division of some money. No doubt this would be the proceeds from one of their graveyard robberies. I stood against the wall, on the other side, and then spoke very softly.

“‘Gentlemen, where is my sister?’

“‘Who is that?’

“‘One of your friends. I will ask you again. Where is my sister?’

“Then I turned the corner and stood in front of them.

“I think one of them may have had a glimmer of recognition. ‘What in the buggery are you?’

“‘You know very well.’ I unwrapped the stock, and showed them my face.