Author's Note: This is inspired by a prompt sent to me by icequeenforlife, who requested Frankenstein!Sherlolly. Warning though: this fic involves angst and stuff that isn't so nice. (Warnings will be put up accordingly.)
Aside from that, I hope you enjoy the fic, and don't forget to let me know what you think.
An Agreement Between Lord and Master.
Rain lashed at his feet, but it felt like nothing more than a cool breeze against his haggard limbs. For more than a year, he had been a wanderer around the world, forced blinking into the sunlight by the man who dared to call himself his creator. Was he not a man? With every look, every insult, every assault he endured, that had been the question which haunted him. If man did indeed create himself in his own image, then surely he was nothing but a reflection, destined to disappear at the whim of his master. No more; he would be master of his own fate from this day forward.
He would run no longer. No—from this day, he would be at peace. From this day, his reflection would be his own. He would be once again… pure.
He found the man—his creator—in a shack, tucked away from the harsh storm beneath the cliffs. A fire was burning brightly in the grate, but the room still felt cold. The tools and trinkets with which his master had created him were laid out on the workshop table. A smile flicked across his lips as his fingers played and stroked at the implements which had brought him life.
From behind, he heard a sound; one he'd grown used to. The sound of a pistol being cocked. He wasted no time. Spinning around on his heel, he knocked the gun out of his master's hands and grabbed at his master's throat. His master struggled, but he only let out a short laugh, pinning him against the wall.
"You have corrupted me, Frankenstein," he hissed. "My mind works faster than any man's."
It was true. Over and over, day after day, his brain clicked and whirred with new and fresh thoughts, never stopping and never dying for eternity.
Victor dared to laugh. "You are a monster. You cannot have thoughts."
"There's a surgical knife to your right, within range. You've eyed it twice before now, when you believed I wasn't looking. You plan to goad me, and make me attack you again in order for you to secretly gain access to the knife before you reach up and slice across my jugular. But now you've used this moment of my speaking to pick up the knife anyway." He gripped Victor's shirt tighter and pulled him closer. "Drop it."
The knife fell to the floor with a clatter. His master was almost pale with shock. It was laughable.
"What do you want of me?"
"You have defied nature by creating me. Defy her again. Make me a mate. A companion, to fill this empty life."
For a long time, his master considered him and his request. "I shall not. Monsters such as you deserve to be destroyed; not loved."
He growled and threw his master to the ground, crouching over him. How dare his master presume to consider him lower than himself? He was a man. He was. Did not any man deserve—nay need—love? Companionship? In his travels, he had acquired the skills to read, to speak, to write, to think and to learn but love… that was a knowledge he had yet to absorb; an experience he had yet to endure. He knew the reason why. No ordinary woman would love him. He needed another mind, a superior mind like his, one that could connect and meld with his thoughts.
Slowly and deliberately, his fingers slid around the slimy sweaty neck of Victor Frankenstein. "My master," he said. "You once believed me to deserve life; you could at least recompense me with this task."
His master choked under the force of his grip. He tightened it.
"I will cause no more destruction, Frankenstein. Agree to my demands, and my bride and I shall live away from this place in peace. We will not seek you out; it will be as if we have never spoken. Now… do you agree?"
"Yes," Victor forced out. He smiled, and his grip gradually loosened.
He smiled as lightning flashed through the window of the shack once again. "I will give you three months. Do not fail."