Frankenstein Theory (28 page)

“
Nonsense, Frankenstein. I’ve seen you do more with less.”

“
You don’t understand, Mr. Fishka, I haven’t have the means to pull off facial reconstruction
and
a brain transplant. Neither have ever been done before, and to have to do them one after another would be impossible.”

“
When has that ever stopped you? You cheated death once, you can do it now.”

Again I slammed my hand onto the table; this time shattering the exoskeleton. The index finger and pinky of my right hand curled into misshapen claws. A shock of pain danced along the edges of my arms and shoulders. Like a man possessed, I shoved my hand in Igor’s line of sight. “Look at me, Igor. I am incapable of such delicate work.”

Igor pulled up close and whispered softly. “Then be my guide, and I’ll be your hands.”

“
You don’t…”

Igor silenced me with a single finger to the lips. “You are a brilliant surgeon, Victor. There’s no reason this wouldn’t work. Please, Doctor. If you
don’t
try it, you’ll never know if it would have worked.”

The woman struggled free from Igor’s grip and made a dash for the stairs. Igor scrambled after her and, just before she reached the exit, grabbed an ankle and pulled. The woman tumbled over the railing and landed on the floor below. Bone pierced the flesh of both shins and her body convulsed from the shock.

I whispered to Igor. “Pick the woman up and place her on the bed.”

The second Igor made to scoop up the injured woman, she unleashed a banshee’s wail of pain.

While Igor busied himself with the woman, I pulled together a cocktail of drugs sure to sing her a ghostly lullaby. With a quick jab of the syringe, I pressed the plunger to send the liquid opium drifting through her system.

She drifted away, far from the pain and consciousness.

“
What now, Doctor?”

From deep within my chest, an infernal noise rose—a death rattle prophesy. “I cannot…”

“
I don’t understand. She’s ready now. You just injected her so that…”

“
That was only to keep the poor woman from suffering.”

Igor grabbed me by the shoulders and stared deep into the wells of my eyes. “What about Elizabeth?”

“
There’s nothing I can do!” I shouted. “She’s gone. I cannot continue this madness and risk losing what little sanity remains.” I raised my ruined hand to Igor. “This is the hand of a monster, not a surgeon. How am I to perform delicate work with this malformed claw?”

“
Together, Victor, we can do this.” Igor looked toward the broken stranger. “I will fashion her skull from plate and borrowed bone. With that complete, you’ll transplant the brain and give her life.”

Tears welled in my eyes. “Mr. Fishka…”

Igor silenced me with an embrace. “If you don’t do this, you will never forgive yourself. The worst thing that could happen is we fail and she remains one of the dead. Success, on the other hand, would mean you get a second chance with your wife.”

“
You’re right. I cannot bear the thought of living without her.”

Igor pulled away and offered a telling look. “What do we do first?”

A crash of thunder shook the walls of the laboratory.

The procedure to remove the brain was still quite familiar from my stay at university. With Igor’s help…it could work.

After extracting the necessary serum from the woman—as she convulsed to her death at the hands of my copper paddles—I handed the saw to Igor, who was better suited for the precision necessary to remove the upper half of the skull.

He wielded the bone saw as if it were an extension of his arm, so graceful and delicate were his cuts.

Blood spilled over the table; neither smell nor sight gave Mr. Fishka pause, nor I the impulse to staunch the crimson flow.

With great reverence, Igor removed the brain from its bony bowl. I placed the organ in a dish on the surgical tray next to Elizabeth, handed Igor a smaller, finer saw, and drew a pattern on the dead whore’s face. Slowly he sliced his way around the dotted line until the piece dropped to the table.

“
Your cut was perfect, Igor.”

Prior to taking the saw to the woman, Igor had removed the brain from Elizabeth, as well as an identical section from her skull.

With the help of two pieces of strap iron, we managed to secure the bone to Elizabeth’s skull, insert the brain, and replace the skull cap. Two copper nails were inserted through the chasm between the pieces of skull and into the brain so as to make contact with the paddles.

The storm above the castle grew in ferocity. Lightning danced over the skylight and thunder rattled the glass.

“
Igor!” I shouted. “Prepare to turn the crank.”

I bent over Elizabeth and placed my lips over hers. The flesh was cold, unyielding…familiar. “We shall be together again, my love.” Gently, I pressed the plunger of the syringe to inject the serum into the base of her new brain. Once the liquid had emptied into her system, I stood and raised my arms outward. Igor presented to me the rubber gloves, which I slipped over my hands with an almost ceremonious flourish. He then placed a paddle in each hand and returned to the transference machine.

I took in as deep a breath as I could manage and nodded. Igor wound the crank up to speed and continued on as the laboratory came to life.

The crack and hum of electricity bounced off the walls. The hairs on the back of my neck stood to a rigid attention.

Cautiously, I placed the paddles against the heads of the nails. Elizabeth’s body immediately convulsed on the table. Her legs danced and flopped, nearly bouncing her to the ground. The smell of cooking meat wafted up to my nostrils.

As I was about to remove the paddles, Elizabeth’s eyes snapped open.

“
Stop!” I shouted over the din of electricity. Igor slowed the wheel until it ceased moving. I dropped the paddles and stepped back.

“
Anything…” Igor started. I silenced him with a raised hand.

The iron plating on Elizabeth’s head still glowed from the dissipating energy.

I held my breath. Eventually my lungs burned hot to force me into drawing breath. As I did, Elizabeth’s hand twitched.

“
Doctor.” Igor pointed as he spoke.

I nodded, afraid to speak until the greater truth was revealed.

Another twitch.

High above, a crash of thunder brought with it the flicker of lightning. As the light and sound faded to nothing, Elizabeth’s body jerked into a seated position. Her eyes remained closed, her head vibrating to some unheard, random rhythm.

And there she sat for minutes…all the while, Igor and myself stared on, waiting for something, anything to happen.

“
Is she…” Igor started to ask.

“
Alive?” I finished the question. Before I could draw a conclusion, Elizabeth blinked her eyes open and turned until she spotted me. The second our eyes locked onto one another, Elizabeth’s head convulsed once, twice, three times. On the third spasm, she opened her mouth and roared some otherworldly disapproval. Her body flailed about on the surgical table until she dropped to the floor.

“
Doctor, shouldn’t we pick her up?”

“
And what, Igor? Dance? She’s obviously broken beyond repair. The only thing we need do now is restrain the monster.”

In the speaking of the word, my heart broke. It wasn’t until that very moment I realized the love of my life was done. She with whom I shared what was to be an eternal bond was no more. What I’d done was befoul and besmirch any hope of retaining a positive memory of the woman. She was now, and would forever be, a raging monster.

“
What do we do, Doctor?”

Instinct overcame me as Igor begged the question. I dashed for the medical cabinet to prepare another opium solution to use as a sedative. Once the creature was out, I could dispatch her forever.

Theoretically speaking. The reality of such a task would most likely prove a soul-crushing challenge.

I swung the glass door open and reached for the vial of opium when a pair of hands wrapped around my neck. The pressure against my larynx was damning. I dropped the vial and scrambled to gain purchase on the hands.

The creature swung me around, picked me up so that my feet dangled above the ground, and slammed me onto the surgical table.

She stared down at me with a lethal gaze. The vessels in her eyes had erupted to flood the whites with a muddy scarlet hue.

Her grip was unrelenting.

My sight began to tunnel. From beyond my peripheral vision, I heard a primal scream that could only have bellowed from Mr. Fishka’s mouth. Elizabeth relinquished her grip on me. Like a fish out of water, I gasped in desperation.

A monstrous cry rang out. Elizabeth raised her hands above her head and brought both fists down onto Igor’s back. The twisted man dropped to the ground like he’d been cast aside by God.

The creature turned back to me, her mouth salivating and blood trickling down the sides of her exposed skull. There was no recognition in her eyes, no understanding of circumstance. There was only primal rage and desire. Like a wound spring, her arm uncoiled to me. Elizabeth grabbed a handful of my hair, yanked me from the table, and forced me to my knees.

“
P-please, Elizabeth.” My voice sputtered. “Let me help you.”

Her discolored eyeballs quivered in their sockets as she searched for something, some semblance of recognition in my face.

There was nothing.

She opened her mouth to speak; the only sound to form was a damnable howl
–
part infant, part monstrosity. Her grip on my hair tightened. Without warning, she slammed my head into the stone floor. The first crack sent a shock of pain washing over my system. The second cracking blow filled my mouth with the taste of copper. The third time my head crashed to the floor, a brilliant light spilled over the room…so bright as to momentarily fill my vision with a wash of white.

Elizabeth pulled my head from the ground and, once again, glared deep into my eyes. Again she roared. Again she slammed my head to the cold stone below.

E P I L O G U E

I wasn’t a student of the medical or scientific arts. In fact, my education was rudimentary, at best. I was, however, quite adept at observing the actions and behaviors of others. Call it a gift, if you will. As Doctor Frankenstein went about the business of reanimating the dead, I kept careful watch over the proceedings, made mental notes when necessary, and knew the combination to the safe that contained his father’s work.

It took me no time to sedate Elizabeth. After she sent Victor to a brutal, unrelenting death, I plunged a needle into the depths of her neck. The opium did its job with great efficacy and speed. The creature turned on me and, before she could raise a fist, her eyes rolled back and she dropped into a drug-induced slumber.

“
Good night, beauteous creature,” I whispered into Elizabeth’s ear. It was the closest I’d come to the flesh of an unpaid woman in years. Under the coppery stench of blood, her sweet perfume intoxicated my senses.

With the raging beast calmed—hers and mine—I secured her to the bed…tucked far enough away that she couldn’t interrupt the work I had to undertake.

The damage to Victor’s skull was extensive, but not impossible to correct with enough material. I had connections enough to procure the necessary materials to repair the skull. He’d certainly lose his handsome visage…but he’d gain something far more precious.

Life.

I scooped the corpse into my arms, carried him to the surgical table, and strapped him in for the ride.

“
Victor,” I said softly. “I must disappear into the night and retrieve a suitable donor for you. I do hope you and the missus won’t make too much of a commotion while I’m away.” I leaned in and whispered, “From what I’ve seen, she can be a wicked woman in bed.” I laughed aloud, the sound echoing off the cold stone walls of the laboratory. “Yes, my friend, I tucked myself within the shadows of your home as you made the beast with two backs, as you slept, as the nightmares danced behind the lids of your eyes. I watched with longing, jealous eyes, knowing some day, with the fall of your mother, I would take your place as king of this castle…as master of the laboratory.”

A flash of lightning flickered in the windows, casting an eerie pall over the scene. A tiny rivulet of blood made its way off the table and onto the floor. I traced the scarlet flow up Victor’s shoulder to the crack in his skull.

“
There is something you don’t know about me, Victor.” Another crash of thunder. “Prior to his death, your father gave me one final directive—should you be rendered incapable of continuing the work, I was to become the keeper of the theory. So you see, in the end, it will be Igor Fishka who will have given science its greatest gift; the gift of life immortal.”