Frankenstein Theory (25 page)

Even when she reached out for me and grabbed my unwounded hand to squeeze it like a lover might embrace a kindred heart, I knew her thoughts were of another. There was no longer any warmth for me…her husband. Love had been lost to the man-made man, crafted by folly and set loose upon the heart of my dearest.

The final notes of the concerto crescendoed and then fell to silence. The crowd jumped to standing and roared an approval I’d never before experienced. Johann stood, stepped down to center stage, and took a deep bow from the waist.

His arrogance was infuriating. I could stand the situation no more and, regardless of the ramifications, exited the booth. Elizabeth called me from behind; I chose to ignore her cries.

As I descended the stairs, the walls bent inward until they threatened to collapse in on me. My breath grew shallow and a cold sweat coated my flesh. My legs buckled and I fell into a rag doll dance down the steep stairs. I tumbled; my only concern was for the device on my hand. I drew the arm to my chest and protected the exoskeleton.

I landed on the ground floor; my head crashed down onto the plush carpet. Saved by opulence. Slowly I drew myself up, took a quick physical inventory, and limped out of the building.

The cold night air stung as I drew in a deep breath to ease the tension threatening to lock up every muscle in my body.

“
Igor,” I whispered. He would understand the war waging inside of me. I turned and shuffled my way toward the Lionshead. Before I reached the entrance, the pain from the fall had eased and I was walking with a bit more grace. I reached for the door with my wounded hand. The device whirred and clicked to stretch my fingers a fraction more as I did. I dropped the arm and pulled the door open with the other hand.

The smell of tobacco, sweat, and liquor accosted my nostrils. Truth be told, I wanted nothing to do with this business tonight. However, I was in need of a comfort only a man like Igor could bring.

I threaded my way through the thick crowd to the back corner to find Igor’s usual table empty. I spun on my heels, hoping he’d be up and about. My eyes scanned the room and I immediately realized how challenging it would be to find such a squat man who stood below the shoulders of the average citizenry.

Instead of pushing my way through the crowd a second time, I sat. Surely, at some point in the evening, Igor would return to the only home he could call his own.

A bar maid swooped in. She wore scarlet on her lips, curls in her hair, and nothing over her buxom breasts. Something in me stirred. I was ashamed not to heed its call.

“
Can I bring you a drink, handsome?”

“
Or two,” I said in all seriousness. “I’ll have a pair of scotch whiskeys, please.”

“
Coming up.”

The woman dashed off toward the bar, her full hips swaying hypnotically.

Out of nowhere, a piano offered up a light tune. I wanted to protest the music, beg for silence…or maybe smash the instrument to bits.

I remained in my seat, wallowing in my angst. The room spun once and the mechanism on my hand clicked again…this time I felt a twinge of pain. I brought my hand down on the table; the shock of the harsh contact sent a jarring jolt up my arm and into my neck.

The machine continued on; unharmed, unchanged.

“
Here’s your drinks, sir.” The maid offered up a warm smile. She had plump, rosy cheeks that gave her an almost doll-like appeal.

“
I want you,” I let slip.

“
Excuse me?” She raised both eyebrows and leaned in toward me.

“
I said, I want you to keep these drinks coming.”

Another smile, a nod, and a wink. She turned and sped off.

I did want the woman. The idea of having her in the adjacent alley brought a stir to my sex. Before logic was overthrown by passion, I downed the first glass of scotch. The warmth eased down my throat to herald the coming of peace. The second drink went down as quickly, and the comforting bliss spread.

“
Look who it is.” A familiar voice rang out from the surrounding onslaught of noise. I opened my eyes to see Franz Geib standing before me. “What kind of madness is that on your hand, Frankenstein? Is this some masochistic ritual handed down by your father? Are you at work conjuring the devil with that thing?” Geib’s laughter tore at my eardrums. I slammed the device down on the table; the act took Franz by surprise. Like a cobra, his hand came down on the exoskeleton and his fingers coiled around one of the trusses.

“
I would highly recommend you remove your hand from mine, Geib.”

Franz’ high-pitched laugh returned to torment me. “Is that your hand, Frankenstein? I thought it was another one of your theorems…or dare I say, failures?”

Before my mind recognized the impulse, my free hand struck out against Geib’s nose. A fountain of blood sprayed from both nostrils to paint his crisp white shirt a deep crimson.

“
You bastard,” Franz shouted, and dove at me.

I dodged his grasp and wove my way through the crowd, cowardice fueling my egress. I’d been on the receiving end of Geib’s fury once before and knew, full-well, what damage the brute was capable of inflicting.

As soon as I erupted out of the tavern, Franz’ voice announced his intent.

“
I will rip that monstrous glove from your hand, Frankenstein, and use it to beat you unconscious.”

A boot to the lower back sent me sprawling to the ground. Tiny rocks wormed their way under the flesh of my left palm…the burn of broken skin eased by the lingering effects of the scotch.

I rolled over, only to have my face met by Geib’s fist. A lightning bolt of pain radiated from my face. The coppery scent of blood preceded the warmth running down my cheek and over my lips.

Geib swung his leg up. Before he could bring the heel of his boot down on my chest, I reached out, grabbed his planted foot, and yanked.

He dropped. The sound of his head cracking against the street was all the inspiration I needed to rise. Before I managed to get to my feet, Geib rose and, from his pocket, pulled a knife. As I turned to make a hasty exit, I was stopped by two of Franz’ henchmen—faces angular and familiar. Both men gripped my arms fast and spun me to face my foe.

Franz brandished the blade and spoke with a mouthful of menace. “Open his mouth.”

One of the thugs grabbed my lower jaw and pulled downward. Franz reached into my mouth and pulled my tongue out as far as he could manage.

“
I think it’s time to silence that vile tongue of yours, Frankenstein.”

Before I could pull the organ from Franz’ grip, he jammed the blade into and through the meat of my tongue and yanked. My mouth filled with blood and my body froze as the torturous agony sparked across every nerve.

Adrenaline flooded my system. I swung my foot upward and connected with Geib’s genitals. He folded at the waist and I brought my knee up, with every ounce of strength I had, to meet his face. Franz’ head whipped back unnaturally and he dropped. Both henchmen released me and went to aid their friend.

I took advantage of their lapse in judgment and raced away from the scene, my left hand cupped over my mouth in a vain attempt at staunching the flow of blood. With my right hand, I waved down a carriage and insisted the driver return me to Castle Frankenstein.

T W E N T Y - S E V E N

The journey seemed forever; all the while, my mouth overflowed with the thick liquid of life. I had to reach my laboratory and stop the bleeding, else find myself, once again, laid out on a hospital bed.

When the coach arrived at the castle, another sat in wait. I disembarked and made my way toward the front door. As I reached the walkway, Elizabeth stepped over the threshold, bags in hand. The moment she spotted me, she froze in place. I opened my mouth to speak; between the mouthful of blood and the agonizing pain, I could not utter a word.

Elizabeth dropped her bags and held up a hand to keep me silent. When she spoke, her voice was sharp and harsh. “Your exit from the symphony was cruel, Victor. You have shown me the side your mother warned me about—the ugly truth inherited from your father. You’ve been violent, obsessive, disrespectful, and untrustworthy. I can live under these circumstances no more.” She retrieved her bags from the ground and continued on. “Johann was offered an apartment. He has taken it and suggested I stay with him for a while. As you most likely have concluded, I am taking him up on his generosity.”

“
My darling, you will be ostracized for your actions. No respectable woman of your station would survive the wrath of society for what you are about to do.” Rage began to boil from the pit of my stomach even as I swallowed down the blood. I could no longer contain myself. “You are a Frankenstein!”

Elizabeth glared at me, her lips pursed into hiding. When she finally spoke, her voice was a bolt of lightning to my heart.

“
I no longer care what society thinks of me, Victor. And I no longer care to keep your name.”

I opened my mouth to protest and could produce little more than an unintelligible moan. Elizabeth shook her head as she continued to the carriage.

“
Do not try to stop me, Victor, and do not attempt to visit. When I am ready to speak with you again, I will contact you.”

Without another word, Elizabeth handed her baggage to the driver and stepped into the carriage. When the door slammed shut, it felt like a kick to the chest.

The driver climbed to his perch and whipped the horses onward. The carriage faded into the blackness. From below, the sound of the exoskeleton whirred and clicked. A dollop of blood spilled from between my lips to land noisily at my feet.

My heart broke.

My sanity snapped.

I drew in a lungful of cold air and unleashed a maddening wail into the night.

The infinite void of my soul begged I give chase, not to allow Elizabeth to depart. Before my mind opened itself up to pitying my heart, a bubble of rage rose from the depths of my gut. When the overpowering emotion breached the dam of my lips, a malformed cry of “Johann” sounded.

He was my enemy, and I would watch his heart beat for the last time in my outstretched hand.

Another spurt of blood splashed from my mouth. I turned and dashed for the door. Once inside, I ran toward
my study. Before I reached the door, Mother’s voice called out.

“
Victor?”

For so long, I’d shrugged off the woman who had brought me life and love for so many years. I wanted so badly to return to her arms and let her soothe my madness. She had, unfortunately, become a ghost to me.

“
What is happening, son? Why did Elizabeth storm off like a cackling witch? And where is she off to at this hour of the night?”

We faced one another, concern lining her face. My eyes and cheeks were hot with tears. When she held her arms to me, I dropped to my knees.

Mother shuffled to my side and knelt to wrap me in truest love’s embrace. “My dear son, what has happened to you?”

I pulled from her and stared into her worried eyes. When I spoke, my voice quavered with pain. “Father happened to me, Mother.”

I stood and smoothed away the mischief in my clothing. “If you will pardon me, I must attend to my work.”

Without awaiting her reply, I raced into my study, through the passage, and down the steps.

When I reached the laboratory, I was shocked to find bodies piled around the floor…each covered in burlap.

“
Igor,” I mumbled before turning my attention to the task at hand.

I fumbled for enough cloth to stuff in my mouth. The muslin would soak up the pooling liquid and place enough pressure on the wound staunch the bleeding. Before doing so, I opened a bottle of vodka, filled my mouth with the tasteless liquor, and swished it around before swallowing. My mouth raged with the fires of hell as the vodka soaked into the wound. Piece by piece, I stuffed the rough strips between my cheeks and over my tongue. The taste of blood eased and I managed to relax my shoulders and neck.

“
What do you think?” Igor’s voice rang down from above. “Enough bodies for you to create a masterpiece?”

I turned toward the stairs and Igor gasped at the sight of my face.

Truth bit hardest when fueled by ignorance.

“
What happened to you, Doctor?” Igor approached and reached his hand to my face. “You’re swollen, and the wound across your eye and cheek has been reopened. This looks bad. Shall we get you to the hospital for care?”

I shook my head and pointed around the room.

“
What’s wrong, Doctor Frankenstein? Can you not speak?”

I shook my head.

“
Whatever for?”

Again I shook my head, this time with eyes wide open and nostrils flared.

“
Fine. Fine. Keep your secrets from me, Doctor.” Igor caught himself before I lost my patience and strangled the man. “Right.” He pointed to his own mouth and shook his head.