Read Frankenstein Theory Online
Authors: Jack Wallen
“
Intellect is king, Igor. Intellect is king.”
I assisted Igor in strapping Johann back to the table. It was still dark enough out that I could retrieve the music box without question from Elizabeth or Mother.
Once Mother found her prized possession missing, on the other hand, I
would
have to face a rather painful and sinister music.
I was ready.
“
Victor,” Igor glanced at me from across the surgical table. “Are you certain this man will come ‘round?”
The moment for misinformation was over. I opted for the truth.
“
I am not, Igor. What we have done thus far goes beyond modern science and ventures into the darker realms of fiction. Will this creature be a man or a monster? Will he even survive the night? These are questions I cannot answer.” I made my way to the stairs and turned back. “I’ll return momentarily.”
Igor nodded and turned to keep watch over the creature.
As I ascended the stairs, an all-too-familiar tune spilled from my lips. In an instant I recognized the melody and then my heart tripped from beat to beat.
I’d forgotten my promise to Elizabeth. Again. She had been so overjoyed at the prospect of attending the symphony tonight, and I had tossed her aside without thought or care. I stopped at the door to the passageway and exhaled a sorrowful breath.
My life had become a dichotomous disaster, and the doorway before me a veil between two worlds.
xXx
Beyond the doorway, all was silent. Elizabeth and Mother had vanished to their respective rooms to drift off to far-away dreamscapes. The tattoo of thunder had gone silent long ago, leaving the only sound the counterpoint between my heartbeat and footfalls.
I stepped into the drawing room to retrieve the music box. Standing sentinel on a wall over the machine was a life-sized painting of the Baron. He glared down disapprovingly at me…his dour frown and accusing stare cutting me to the core. As I stared up at the painting, I saw beyond the facade and into the truth of the man. He was, above all things, a singularly brilliant mind. Although the Baron held a propensity for an almost militant discipline, I was fortunate enough to see beyond the surface and into a loving, kind, and generous heart.
As I locked onto the eyes of the painting, an odd sense of joy overcame me. I’d succeeded where the Baron failed. For that, I was certain, the man would look down on me with an unmatched pride. I smiled and offered a succinct nod before laying my hands on the music box cabinet and wheeling it from the room.
After two trips, I managed to get both music box and cabinet carried down the precarious steps.
“
So,” Igor started. “We’re just going to entertain this creature with music throughout the night?”
“
Not exactly,” I answered.
“
I don’t understand, Doctor.”
I locked a cylinder in place and wound the motor. The tinkling sound of a familiar Vivaldi melody rose from the box. I turned to Igor. “
You
, my friend, are going to entertain the creature. Keep this wound and switch out the cylinders now and then. Just make sure music plays constantly from now until morning.”
Igor cocked his head to his non-deformed shoulder. “And why should I spend my evening here, Doctor Frankenstein?”
I stood tall and smoothed out my lab coat. “First and foremost, it is what I pay you for. Secondly…do you have any family to speak of?”
Igor lowered his gaze in defeat.
“
I thought not.”
Without another word, I disappeared from the laboratory, the sound of “The Four Seasons” making an angry exit impossible.
S E V E N T E E N
I stood in the operating theatre, my feet bathed in a sea of scarlet. From the ceiling, body parts rained down to splash into the rising tide. Sitting on a surgical table lay the pieces of a man, laid out in correct order…disconnected.
A note rang out. A hand vibrated. Another note. In the sounding, a thigh shuddered. The notes continued to sound; each time, another piece of human puzzle buzzed to life. This continued until the notes coalesced into melody and the fleshy pieces came together to form a man.
My father.
He sat up and conducted the song of his creation, his arms dancing gracefully before him. Father held his hands up, in the traditional fermata gesture, until the notes faded to silence.
“
Victor,” he spoke…his voice rough, angry. “What have you done?”
I drew in close enough to grab one of Father’s hands. As soon as I clasped it between mine, the arm sloughed off the appendage, and he who would be my father unleashed a hell-born roar.
“
What have you done, Victor? I am ruined.”
I leaned in and kissed the Baron’s forehead. “No, Father, I have done nothing but honor your name and your work. You should see what I’ve accomplished since you’ve gone. I’m certain you’d be proud of me.”
The cobbled man roared with laughter. “Proud of you? Have you lost what remains of your mind? It is not possible for a man of my station to feel pride for the likes of you.”
“
I don’t understand, Father. I’ve realized your work. We can now safely reanimate the dead.”
The corpse-puzzle spat a mouthful of blood over his chin and chest. “Victor, you must know that arrogance does not suit you well.”
“
This is not arrogance!” I shouted above swelling music.
The corpse raised three fingers to its head and popped his right eye from its socket. He held out his hand, palm up, and said, “Taste of my flesh, Victor.”
I had no choice but to open my mouth. The Baron slipped the eyeball into my gaping maw and demanded I chew. The pop of the organ as I clenched my teeth made me want to spill my last meal over the stone floor.
The corpse-Baron grabbed his left index finger and pulled with a twist. A loud “snap” indicated the finger had been removed. A fountain of blood arched from the unsealed digit. “Drink of my blood,” the corpse whispered ominously. The wash of human wine spilled over my face and into my open mouth.
Next, the puppet-Baron placed the palm of his hand atop his head and gave a quick twist. The cap of his skull unseated and dropped to the floor with a hollow
thunk
.
“
Feast of my mind, Victor.”
The Baron leaned forward until the tangy stench of gray matter met my nostrils. Blood-slick and pulsing, the sight sickened me.
“
Why are you hesitating? Partake, my son.”
With great hesitation, I reached my hand to the most precious of organs and plucked a fleshy fold from the human bowl of the Baron’s head. Before I could place the bit of my father’s brain onto my tongue, he stopped my hand from reaching my mouth.
“
You must say a prayer,” Father insisted.
“
I…I have no idea what to say.”
The Baron smiled gently. “Then allow me.” He bowed his head and spoke in a melodic tone. “Heavenly Father…I beseech unto thee to pass along my truth to this, my most wretched son; for he is lost and shall not be found until the consumption of my wisdom is complete. In your unholy name I pray. Amen.”
Father looked down on me and nodded. “You may now partake.”
My hand shook violently as I dropped the bit onto my tongue. My teeth ground against the rubbery flesh; a squirt of foul, metallic juice washed over my teeth and gums to invite a flood of bile into my mouth.
And yet…I chewed. And I swallowed.
And returned for more.
With each bite, my palate began to unravel the secret of the taste so that it could unlock the deeper meaning of the meal. The hidden truth.
“
You understand now, Victor?” my father asked.
I nodded. “Yes, Father, I do.”
He bowed at the waist to reveal his hollowed-out skull. The atlas of his spinal column jutted out, where the medulla once resided.
“
You are now, truly, a Frankenstein.”
I opened my mouth to speak. Instead of eloquence, a tidal wave of vomit poured from between my lips to fill the bony bowl that was the bottom half of my father’s head.
xXx
When I sat up in bed, my flesh was clammy and sweat-slick. My pulse and breath raced against an unseen clock.
Darkness consumed me.
The nightmares were growing more frequent and more relevant. I couldn’t escape the burning sensation that some unseen specter was trying to pass along to me a message.
Moonlight shone down in romantic blue beams across the room. Elizabeth lay beside me, her delicate breath coming and going in a darling, but predictable, rhythm. Carefully, I reached out to her and stroked her hair with the tips of my fingers.
“
I adore you,” I whispered, and then leaned in to grace her forehead with a kiss.
“
Victor,” Elizabeth whispered.
I returned the whisper. “I’m here, my love.”
“
I missed you.”
I gently stroked her hair. “And I you, darling. I promise I will make it up to you.”
In her half-waking state, Elizabeth smiled. “I know.”
Elizabeth’s voice grew distant as she drifted back into the world of slumber.
Once again alone to my devices, I sat upright to allow the earlier moments the opportunity to flood my system.
And flood they did.
Igor. Death. Ghosts. The Creature. The dream. Everything conspired against me to prevent justice or vengeance from being served…hot or cold.
Sleep evaded me in absolutes. Instead of fighting the rising tide of wakefulness, I opted to join the shadows and slink my way across the room and through the door. Instantly the muffled sound of an atonal music greeted my ears.
“
How is that possible?” I quickly descended the grand staircase and slipped into my study, where I found the door to the passageway standing open. A cacophonous wall of sound rose up from below; someone lashing out at the piano, pounding fistfuls of notes in strike after strike of relentless rage.
Through the passage door I crept, closing it behind me to silence the outer sanctum of my home. When I finally reached the landing that overlooked the laboratory, Igor sat, hunched over my desk…eating and sipping wine from one of my family heirloom goblets.
“
I do hope this repast is owed to a somnambulous nature, for sleepwalking is the only explanation that could recuse such inexcusable behavior.”
Startled, Igor turned and knocked the goblet from the desk, sending it hurling to the ground. The tinkling, percussive sounds of shattering glass mingled with the music to form an entirely unique and disturbing composition.
Igor’s eyes bulged, his lips grew thin, his skin faded to ghostly white. He opened his mouth to speak; I silenced him with a raised hand.
Slowly, step by step, I descended the stone stairs. “It’s not that you have taken a meal in my laboratory; that, I can abide. It’s not that you ventured into my home to pilfer the cupboards for a meal; that is understandable.” I reached the bottom of the stairs and stopped. “That you left the door to this lab standing open, so that all could venture into my realm, is inexcusable, Mr. Fishka.”
Again, Igor opened his mouth and pointed.
Again, I silenced the man.
“
I depend upon absolute discretion. Should word of my work find its way out onto the streets of Geneva, I would be instantly discredited and, quite possibly, locked away as a madman. Until my theory is proved beyond doubt’s reach, it must remain within these walls.”
I slowly and silently made my way to Igor’s side to look down upon his hideous visage. “The second I fear my work has been endangered by your inability to sequester yourself within the shadows, I promise you, Mr. Fishka, I will part your flesh out, bit by bit, and sell it to the lowest bidder.”
Igor nodded unsteadily, his gaze never leaving mine. Once again, he pointed; as he did, the piano sang another tune, a cat dancing across the keys.
“
Doctor,” Igor whispered and nodded toward the end of the laboratory where I’d stationed the instrument.
Slowly, I glanced over my shoulder to see
him
seated at the bench, one arm dangling at his side, the other plucking random notes from the keys.
“
When did this…”
“
Around midnight, Doctor. I’d just switched the cylinder to a Clementi piano sonata, when he sat up and stumbled away from the table. He’s been pecking at the keys ever since.”
I turned to face the creature. “Have you tried…”
“
Communicating? Yes. He shoves me aside with little more than a groan and continues on, unabated.”
The discordant notes continued their monstrous assault on my ears. “And you’ve been listening to this for hours?”