Dave Zeltserman - Monster

“They have costumes and other work to perform in preparation for our drama,” he said under his breath.

His tone and manner led me to believe that it was more than that. That those two, and perhaps all of the workmen and craftsmen employed at the castle, were never going to be leaving. That they were all going to be made unwitting players in the drama that was going to unfold.

Frankenstein appeared absorbed in his own thoughts, which suited me, since I did not care for his company. We did not speak another word together until we arrived in Strasburg and boarded the boat that Frankenstein had chartered to take us up the Rhine to Rotterdam. Once I had gained access to my cabin without any attention from the boat’s crew, Frankenstein asked me to stay shut in my cabin during the day, and not to venture out onto the deck until the darkness of night had descended.

“I will bring you food and wine and whatever else you might need,” he said, “but I am afraid that if the crew were to see you, even hidden under your cape, it would alarm them. Stories of a gigantic daemon kidnapping young girls could have reached this city.”

I did not put up any argument. I did not much care where on that boat I resided.

Whether it was the travel, being free from that castle and its thick oppressive evil, or the cool, soothing air from the water, that night onboard the ship I slept deeply for the first time in over two weeks. While my dreams were not invaded by Frankenstein’s black magic, they were troubling nonetheless, and as much as I had hoped for Johanna to visit she did not appear. I awoke from these dreams with an uneasiness that had burrowed deep into my soul and which I could not rid myself of no matter how hard I tried.

I was mostly left alone over the next several days, with my enemy only interrupting me to bring food and drink. During this time I tried to convince myself that all I had witnessed within the castle was only a fleeting nightmare that I had left far behind me, and I tried desperately to hold on to Johanna’s image within my mind, but her face would invariably break apart only to be replaced by the shifting faces of the young girls in Frankenstein’s dungeon, and I would see them clearly in all of their misery and despair. I would see them begging me to save them. And even when I would open my eyes, I would still be haunted by these phantoms as they would insist on lingering for a horrible few moments more.

When I would look out my cabin window I would see sights of nature that would have soothed and pleased me when I was Friedrich Hoffmann, but now only left me barren, and worse, for before too long I would make out those young girls’ faces within rock formations and clouds. There was no escape from them, no escape from the terror that I had left behind. The worst was when scenes from that mural would play out in my mind, with the women within it being replaced by the young prisoners. I would at times pace my cabin as if I were a caged animal, at other times I would hold my head in my hands, but nothing I did would keep those loathsome thoughts from pushing their serpentine way through my skull. Every minute that I was held captive within those castle walls I had prayed for distant solitude, and now that I had it I could barely stand it.

The night before we were to reach Rotterdam, I stood on the deck and stared into the darkness. Alone, I tried to breathe in the night air in order to try to keep my torturous imaginings at bay. I was interrupted by the arrival of Frankenstein. He stood silently next to me, and I made no attempt to speak to him. We stood like that for several minutes before Frankenstein remarked that there existed a bond between us, a bond similar to that which existed between a father and a son. I laughed harshly at his comment, the noise escaping from me and sounding like little more than a dog’s bark.

“It is true, Friedrich. For I crafted you and brought life into your dead form. I witnessed when you first opened your eyes. I cared for and nurtured you when you were helpless and had no strength to move. And while at times I am disappointed with your progress, I am excited about your potential.”

I tried not to answer him but I could not help myself, his words enraging me.

“My father was a good and gentle man,” I said. “He spent his life painting porcelain figurines, which only served to bring delight into people’s lives. I assure you my father never dreamed of torturing and murdering innocent children for any purpose.”

Frankenstein ignored the anger in my voice, and his own temperament remained calm, maybe even melancholy.

“Friedrich, you need to let go of these false sentiments that you insist on clinging to. What you were before was only a man. That person died, but what you are now, what I in fact gave birth to you as, is something far greater. You will understand this someday, as you will the purpose for the drama that we will be performing. It is far more than what you believe it is. Our drama seeks a higher truth, and will enlighten mankind in a way that no drama before has ever hoped to do. Give it time, Friedrich. You will see this, I am sure of it, and when you do you will have fully evolved into the superior being that I know is your destiny. I am sure that you will also then feel the same bond between us that I feel.”

“If this bond between us truly exists, then free me from your black spell,” I said. “Let me feel this bond without it being choked by your magic.”

“There is no way to free you from my spell,” he said. In the darkness, I saw the calmness upon his face as he stared out toward the river. “I wish I could free you from it, Friedrich. Not now, of course. Not while you are making this request sarcastically and wish only to rip my limbs from my body. But later. Unfortunately, I will never be able to do so.”

I again did not wish to speak further with him, but I could not restrain myself.

“If you believe that these sentiments of mine are merely illusory,” I said. “And that I am destined to be as blackhearted and devoid of conscience as you and the rest of your company, then why are you willing to bring Johanna back to me?”

My enemy paused before answering me. “To help you along the path that you need to take,” he said. “Of course, I have other reasons. This is an experiment that I have longed planned to attempt, and it would be fascinating to see whether this woman’s memories have been retained, as yours were, and how she reacts to you in your new form. But of utmost importance was to have you choose to have a young girl murdered to satisfy your own needs. With this step taken there will be no turning back and there will be little doubt that you will evolve as I have hoped.”

“You would have murdered her anyway,” I argued. “And in a far more sordid and horrible manner!”

Frankenstein shrugged halfheartedly. “Perhaps, but perhaps not. You cannot know for certain what would have happened. What if we decided not to perform our drama, and instead free the prisoners? Or what if the French army caught wind of what we were doing and sent troops to rescue them? No my friend, no matter how you rationalize this, you will be culpable in this girl’s murder.”

I brooded over this, for he was not telling me anything that I had not already been torturing myself over. Of course, he was lying about the chances that they might cancel their planned drama. They were hell-bent on seeing their plans carried out. The girl that I chose would be murdered in any case. But Frankenstein was right. I would now be responsible for her death.

A thought entered my mind, and I began to tremble. “Once you have brought my Johanna back to me, you cannot harm her!”

He nodded. “You have my word on that, Friedrich, although I believe that you will soon have little use for her.”