A/N: Hello and welcome to my new fanfiction (it's been a while for me since I've done an A/N intro). This story is basically an anthology about each of the monster characters in Van Helsing and their origins, with each chapter focusing on a different character.
For the first chapter, we've got the mad doctor himself. I know Dr. Frankenstein isn't really a monster in the film, but I was heavily influenced by his expanded backstory in the Van Helsing novelisation, and as a human who fell under Dracula's control, he counts as someone who lost his humanity in accordance with this story's theme.
DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fanfiction using the world and characters of Van Helsing (2004), and I do not claim any ownership of said world and characters; they are the property of Universal Studios. This story is my own invention, and it is not purported or believed to be part of the film's canon. I am not financially profiting from the creation and publication of this story; it is for entertainment only and is not part of the official storyline. I am grateful to Stephen Sommers and all associated cast and crew who worked on the film, and to novelisation author Kevin Ryan; for without the film and novel, this story would not exist.
The Men They Once Were
Chapter 1: Doctor Frankenstein
Germany, 1886
Elizabeth laughed, showing her white teeth.
"You are truly frightened of cats because your mother fell over a white cat?" she asked, grinning. Though slightly older than the man with her, Elizabeth had a youthful, smooth-skinned face with prominent cheekbones. Golden hair fell in ringlets to her shoulders. Her eyebrows were slightly thick, but Victor found no flaw.
"Well, Father was seriously worried about her head gash for some hours," Victor chuckled slightly. He fiddled with his brown suit's collar. "But I think that's enough about childhood pets."
"Understandable," Elizabeth chuckled, sun-droplets through a tree making her pink dress and face look momentarily fiery. "Let us speak of great figures. Do you particularly identify with any famous men?"
"There are a few among those I read of as a boy," Victor admitted. He was momentarily silent, thinking. "I particularly admire Plato of Ancient Greece."
"Why?" Elizabeth asked.
"There are many reasons," Victor said, looking around at the estate grounds' trees. "Among them his philosophical contribution to the improvement of a just society, and his successful distinguishment from all his peers."
"You admire him for standing out," Elizabeth noted, smiling.
"Yes," Victor began, eyes darting like he was suddenly uncertain. "Most men of high standing like my family are content to remain in the same circle forever."
"You wish to stand out more than your family has?" Elizabeth asked, voice still jovial.
"…That's a somewhat harsh way of putting it, don't you think?" Victor said after a pause, smiling back.
"I'm sorry," Elizabeth said, looking at the ground and smiling. "I meant no offence by it, only complement. Children always want to be distinguished or stand apart in some way." Another pause passed, Victor looking sideways at her as they walked.
"I'll admit, it is difficult for a son to make his own mark when his father is Alphonse Frankenstein," Victor murmured. Their walk took them circling the grounds' pond. Elizabeth turned her head at the sound of duck's-quacks, seeing several on the water – she remembered them being chicks in spring.
"The circle of life," Victor murmured, seeing what Elizabeth had seen. "Creatures are born, then they die, but there's always life again."
"Where there's life, there's always hope," Elizabeth murmured.
"But it is because of death that there's reason to hope for new life," Victor said. "Without death taking life away, there would be no reason to find hope in life's restoration."
"You also studied poetry?" Elizabeth asked, looking back at him.
"I scarcely had time while learning surgery in London," he chuckled, smiling. "But I do have an interest in the relations between life and death."
"Is it part of your pursuits relating to the Fellowship of the Physical Sciences?" Elizabeth asked. Victor's features shifted very-slightly, feeling wary of talking about such a close, important thing. He turned his head back in the direction they were walking.
"I hope to…" Victor began. "Well, I hope to make significant contributions to the physical sciences, that'll broaden man's understanding of the world. The complexity of life you could say is key." The sound of horses' hooves drew their attention. A brown coach passed on their left, heading in the opposite direction.
"That is my uncle's coach," Elizabeth murmured. "My mother said he would be here in the late afternoon to bring me home."
"I would be honoured to walk you back to the house," Victor said.
"There is honestly no need," Elizabeth said, turning heel while keeping her smiling face on him. "But I would nonetheless be happy to have your company longer." Victor smiled, turning on the spot while the coach ran ahead. They walked back towards the estate.
The following evening, Victor strode purposefully into the manor laboratory. He removed his jacket and threw it on a chair without looking, leaving him in shirt and waistcoat. The room was wide enough to accommodate several coaches. Most of the floor was bare except for the odd furniture, and a main table which cables linked into. Panels and electrical technology lined three walls, producing a hum, while the south wall with windows was bare. The wallpaper was peeling off in several places from the room's formerly-unused state. The fading daylight made the shadows lengthen, despite the wall-mounted lamps' dim gaslight.
"You're early as usual," quipped the curly blonde-haired man, also in waistcoat, adjusting the cables linking to the main table's metal harness.
"Time is everything," Victor quipped, shooting Henry a grin, before jogging to the wall-lining equipment.
"The wiring is ready," Henry said, fiddling with cords and screws on the table's harness, which encased the dead rabbit's head.
"Excellent!" Victor half-shouted, before jogging diagonally to a panel by another wall, checking meters and adjusting switches. Henry did the same at a panel nearer the table. The machines' hum began increasing. Victor was grateful for the laboratory advancements available in Germany; he wouldn't have been able to acquire this technology had he stayed in England, even with the medical profession's recent advances.
"Have you administered the serums?" Victor asked, flop of hair flying as he turned his head.
"I administered them before you arrived, making sure to use the new bovine testicular formula," Henry replied, turning from the panel.
"Good," Victor said, throwing several more switches before running to re-check the instruments' readings. He murmured under his breath: "Let us hope this new batch might succeed where the others haven't." Henry relaxed, hands in his waistcoat's pockets.
"Calm down, we have everything ready," he said.
"I don't want a twenty-first failed experiment on account of a technical mistake," Victor said without looking or stopping. Victor checked another panel's switches and indicators, then ran to the table, checking the cable-attachments' knobs and the straps' tightness. When Victor was wholly satisfied, by which time the hum had built to a loud sound, Henry looked at a panel's indicators.
"Victor, the machines are ready!" Henry shouted.
"Then let's begin!" Victor said, grinning. He sprinted to a panel across the room and pulled a main lever. Electrical currents shot through the cables connecting the equipment, then entered the head-harness, crackling drowning the machines' hum. The rabbit blazed with blue lightning, stretching and then bending a leg. Victor waited seven seconds, then rushed back to the main lever and reset it. The electrical current cut, the rabbit instantly going still. Running to a surgical table, Victor picked up a monaural stethoscope, then went to the main table. Henry strode forward beside him. He placed the stethoscope drum to the rabbit's body, from which thin smoke was rising, and listened. After several seconds, he began deflating.
"There's no heartbeat," he said, removing his head from the stethoscope.
"I am sorry, Victor," Henry said sadly, putting a hand on Victor's shoulder. He maintained the gesture for a few seconds, during which Victor's crestfallen face remained on the rabbit, then gave a final squeeze and began walking away. Victor moved his hand towards the rabbit's nose to check for breath. "Check for swelling, if there is any like with the mouse, we are moving in th-"
"AH!" Victor leapt, hand clutched to his chest. Henry looked back.
"Are you alright?" he asked, striding over. "That rabbit must be hot based on-"
"It's not hot, it bit me!" Victor exclaimed, pointing. Henry's eyes followed Victor's arm. The rabbit's lips were moving – jaws opening and closing rapidly, then stopping, then restarting. Henry navigated around Victor to look closer. Squinting, Victor thought the torso was moving slightly.
"Victor, look for a heartbeat again!" Henry exclaimed. Victor re-planted the drum and listened. His eyes slowly widened.
"It's beating!" Victor exclaimed, looking at Henry. "It's beating!"
The surgical theatre's gallery was full of loudly-talking figures, and the lantern-light on the unoccupied theatre was foreboding. Victor, looking through the back door's glass pane, felt slightly nervous.
"There are so many," he murmured.
"Do not worry about their numbers," Elizabeth murmured, turning him around to look into her crystal-blue eyes. She always knew how to make the rest of the world melt away so it seemed like she was the only other thing besides him. It amazed Victor how she'd grown her curly hair to waist-length in the four months since that day they'd walked in his house's grounds. She put her dainty hands on Victor's shoulders. "You've already discovered what you were after. All you need to do now is talk those gentlemen into understanding why your work is so important."
"You haven't met elderly men of medicine," Victor murmured, sounding like he dreaded them. "They don't take well to radicalism straight away."
"You've rehearsed for this for months, Victor, and we've been re-analysing the experiments from every angle for a year," Henry said, on Victor and Elizabeth's opposite side from the door. Tonight, Victor found it odd to see Henry's hair slicked back. "Begin with the story about the cat, and explain your discoveries before you reach the presentation's point."
"Don't let your anxieties get to your head," Elizabeth said, leaning in slightly closer. "If you do that, you will only fret more. If you keep calm, you will only do your very best."
"And what if my very best isn't good enough?" Victor murmured, wringing his hands slightly. "You know that I don't excel at speaking." He could still feel the itching panic of what would happen if the Fellowship didn't accept him, and he didn't get the professorship he needed.
"Victor," Elizabeth said, one hand moving to his jawline. "I have every belief that whatever happens, one way or another you will obtain what you need." Victor's larger hand slowly moved up, grasping her hand on his face. His confidence almost-immediately increased.
"It still amazes me that you were so accepting of Victor's experiments when he told you about them, Mrs. Frankenstein," Henry said teasingly. Elizabeth shot him a slight disapproving glare, then smiled at Victor.
"Good evening to you all," Victor heard the professor say on the theatre, which meant he'd be due to walk on in less than a minute. He looked to the door's window-pane and breathed out steadily.
"Good luck, my friend," Henry said. Victor calmly waited until the professor finished the introduction.
"So, let us welcome Dr. Victor Frankenstein!" There was clapping from the gallery. Victor pushed through the door. Entering the theatre, Victor shook the elderly professor's hand, the professor quickly gave him good luck, then Victor went to the theatre's centre.
"Right, yes, well…" Victor's nerves trembled momentarily, looking at the gallery. "Good evening to you all. Before we enter the presentation, I'd like to ask if anyone here has a black, white and orange cat that disappeared a week ago. Because black, white and orange hair were found by the humanities building." There were a few soft chuckles. A pleasant smile spread on Victor's face, feeling better. "My friend's aunt told me that joke. Now, let us begin. Albert, if you would please." The man above the gallery dimmed the spotlight-lantern, while the man below activated the magic lantern and inserted the first slide. A sepia picture slid into the light-circle on the theatre wall, depicting Victor and Henry holding the revived rabbit a year ago, its jaws half-open.
"During this century, mankind's knowledge and understanding of the world has advanced massively through the progress made by men of science, despite traditionalist opposition," Victor began. "Subjects we'd once speculated on through superstition we've gained more concrete knowledge of. Luigi Galvani and Alessandro Volta's contributions concerning causes of movement being one; the Parisian examinations of human physiology, infamous at the time, being another. Through these discoveries, man has increased his manipulation of the world by technology and scientific practices for the good of his kin."
Marching from the building and down steps, case dangling in one hand, Victor was furious, winding around the other people entering and exiting. The falling night snow did nothing to ease him. Elizabeth and Henry were ahead, on the path between the building and the road, faces pinched with sadness.
"I'm very sorry, my friend," Henry said. Victor eased slightly at being near Elizabeth, breathing out through his nostrils.
"So am I," he murmured. "I only had to say I intended to combine dead parts, and everyone unanimously cried 'blasphemy.'" He thought speaking of it might relieve some of his anger.
"Let us go home, Victor," Elizabeth said in a voice Victor couldn't be mad at. "Henry, would you care to join us?"
"I suppose what happened in the gallery wasn't the reaction you had been hoping for," said the figure who'd been walking up to them, making Victor turn and look. "It must have been very hard for you," the eastern-accented man said, sounding earnest. Victor's eyes widened slightly, something about the man seeming amazing. He wore a pure-black cloak and gloves, matching his dark hair. His face had a worn look but was handsome. His hair was long and held in a ponytail by a clasp, several stray strands deliberately framing his face on either side. He interestingly had an earring in either ear. Victor found himself looking at the icy blue eyes the longest.
"I'm sorry, who are you, sir?" Henry asked, looking past Victor. The man glanced at Henry for a split-second.
"Forgive me," he said, smiling in a way Victor believed. "I am Count Dracula, from Transylvania." He bowed his head slightly. Dracula. Victor thought that name sounded familiar. "I cannot pretend I do not already know your name, Dr. Frankenstein." He turned to Elizabeth and Henry. "And who are you?"
"Elizabeth Frankenstein, his wife," Elizabeth said, extending her hand. Count Dracula took it and kissed the back, eyes never leaving Elizabeth's face.
"Your husband is most fortunate." He spoke so hoarsely his voice could've been a wolf's snarl.
"Henry Clerval, at your service," Henry said, briefly bowing his head low. The Count nodded his head slightly.
"As a man who has been looking at the old ways for a long time," the Count said, turning back to Victor, who paid full attention; "I found your arguments about the potential benefits of progress most persuading. Perhaps you are right that embracing progress is the key to building the world's future."
"Th-Thank you, Count," Victor murmured, legs feeling like wet, uncooked meat. "I suppose you didn't appreciate the idea of using dead parts?"
"On the contrary, I thought bridging the boundaries between life and death are a most appropriate show of science's capabilities," the Count said. He smiled thinly, eyes narrowed slightly. "A triumph of science over God, I believe you called it?" Victor was shocked. He could count the number of people who approved of his experiments on ten fingers – none of his family besides his wife were among them.
"Yes- Yes, I did," Victor murmured.
"It is a shame those other men of science do not share your vision," the Count murmured. "I would like to speak to you about your experiments and how I might be able to help you." Victor couldn't believe his luck. Directly after being denied entrance into the Fellowship of Physical Sciences, a man he hadn't known beforehand – and an eastern nobleman too – was voicing his full support and saying he wanted to help. It almost seemed too good to be true. Some part of Victor dreaded what might happen if they talked and the Count changed his mind, but Victor's feeling that indulging in his good fortune would prolong it, outweighed that voice.
"I and my wife live in Munich, but if the journey there is asking more of you than we're owed, I shall journey back to Ingolstadt in a few days," Victor said eagerly.
"It is not asking more than you're owed," the Count said. "Will visiting two nights from now be appropriate? I'm afraid I never do business during the day."
"I believe it will be appropriate," Victor said. "Elizabeth?" He turned to her.
"We would be honoured to have you in our house, Count," she said softly, eyes slightly lidded. Victor recognised the mannerisms indicating she wasn't happy, and was slightly puzzled. Henry, who'd been quiet while Victor and the Count talked, smiled.
"It seems we shall see you then, Count," Victor said, pleased. "Our address is the Frankenstein estate on Dachauer Street."
"I will remember it," the Count murmured. "Until then, I shall bid you a good evening." He nodded at Victor and Henry, bowed his head slightly to Elizabeth, then he turned and left. Victor watched him walk to the road and turn on the pavement.
"It seems luck might be on your side yet," Henry murmured.
"Perhaps so," Elizabeth agreed, sounding genuinely pleased. "Come, my love. We mustn't keep poor Uncle Everest waiting too long."
"Uncle Everest?" Victor murmured absent-mindedly. "Oh. Yes." He'd forgotten about going home. Elizabeth looked slightly puzzled. He offered his arm, which she looped hers through. When the three were climbing into the carriage that would take them back to Munich, Victor – the second one in after Elizabeth – thought to look down the snowfall-misted road in the direction the Count had gone, wondering why he hadn't had a carriage closer to the building.
Two nights later, Victor and Elizabeth were proceeding upstairs, having finished their evening meal. Elizabeth wanted to go to bed, but Victor intended to stay up and await Count Dracula's arrival. It had been an hour since sunset and he hadn't arrived. Victor and Elizabeth were three steps past the top of the stairs, when a door-knock – carrying in the front hall which the landing overlooked – made them stop and turn their heads. Their butler Robert appeared below, proceeding to the front doors and opening them. Count Dracula was standing short of the threshold, wearing the same cloak as in Ingolstadt.
"Count Dracula," Elizabeth greeted him. "We didn't think you'd come this late."
"I said I would be here at night," the Count replied, looking up at them. "I did not wish to arrive too early and interrupt your meal, nor too late and disturb your sleep." His voice carried in the house's front.
"Please, come in," Victor bade him. The Count stepped over the threshold, unbuttoning his cloak and handing it to Robert. Underneath, he wore a coat and high boots that were equally black.
"I shall be in the bedroom," Elizabeth said, smiling at Victor.
"Of course, my dear." She immediately left. Victor proceeded two-steps-at-a-time downstairs.
"Shall we speak in the living area?" Victor asked. The Count nodded. Closer up, Victor could see the Count's coat bore military embroidery on the front and cuffs. Victor led the way to the door on the Count's left.
Inside the wide living area, the fire from the early evening was still burning. Entering behind Victor, the Count took a seat in an armchair facing the door, while Victor sat in the opposite chair.
"Might I offer you a drink?" Victor asked.
"No, I'm afraid I never drink," the Count declined.
"No drinks, Robert," Victor told the butler at the door, who bowed and left. Victor himself had never been one for alcohol, and didn't want to appear rude by indulging.
"So, shall we discuss business?" the Count asked.
"Of course," Victor said eagerly, eyes fixed on the Count's.
"I am given to understand that you would require much expensive equipment and facilities to further pursue your experiments," the Count said, half his face looking black-and-white, the other cast in dancing orange shades by the fire. "As a man of a wealthy lineage, I am willing to provide every facility and equipment you need to complete your work, as well as laboratory assistance. All I ask in return is to be your exclusive financial and technological backer in this endeavour, and that you carry out the work exclusively in my home province, where I shall ensure you have the most spacious accommodation there is." Victor's eyes widened slightly, unable to believe what he was hearing. Part of him thought this must be some fever dream, it didn't feel entirely real. The Count not only believed in his work, he was willing to provide Victor whatever he asked – it actually seemed better than the Fellowship of Physical Sciences. Victor barely thought of the possibility the Count might not be able to provide up-to-date equipment, thinking the Count seemed honest and wouldn't deceive him. But the thought of how Elizabeth would feel forced its way to Victor's consciousness, like a suffocating creature breaking free of its confines.
"Your offer is most generous, Count," Victor said, unable to get a but out afterwards. Count Dracula's eyes narrowed slightly. When a short time – Victor didn't know how much in his slightly-off state of mind – passed, the Count spoke for him.
"Do you have concerns?" he asked calmly.
"I'm not sure how my wife would feel about moving to another country," Victor said. The Count smiled.
"Forgive me, I should have thought to discuss this from the beginning," the Count said. "Rest assured, the accommodation you will have is very large and very comfortable – a castle, in fact – and a complete staff will come with it. The staff includes people who can cater to your wife's every possible need; from sickness to, if I may address sensitive matters, the possibility of child-bearing." Victor's brows furrowed as he thought with effort.
"I should speak with my wife about this," he said.
"Of course, but do not take too long, my friend," the Count said, words sinking into Victor's mind.
"I will only go if my wife says yes, though I hope she does." Victor was unsure if he meant the first part.
"I see," the Count murmured, smiling again. Removing a small brown envelope, he said: "I shall leave my postal address with you for you to contact me by." He placed it on the lamp-table beside him. "Until then, I shall take my leave, and bid you a good evening." He began to rise.
"Allow me to escort you out," Victor said, rising after him. The Count nodded in gratitude and walked out the door, Victor behind him.
"You are considering this?" Elizabeth asked, somewhat shocked.
"He has offered me whatever I need to fulfil my work," Victor said, standing five feet away on the lamp-lit bedroom's opposite side.
"But Victor, can he truly provide what you need on the far side of Europe?" Elizabeth argued. "You said you would need some of the most recent technology for your work – how is anyone to know if you can get that in the Count's land?"
"He is an honest man, I am sure of it," Victor replied.
"Honest?" She gaped, astounded. "Victor, you have just met him." That made some unknown anger trigger in Victor's mind.
"He is offering me all the help I can ask for, where everyone who can provide that has turned me down!" Victor snapped, raising his voice slightly. Elizabeth went silent. Victor sighed slightly, putting a hand to his eyes, suddenly feeling awful.
"Elizabeth, I fear if I turn this offer down, I may be turning down my best and only chance at completing my work," he said, walking across the gap and putting his hands on either of Elizabeth's arms. Their eyes met. She looked beautiful in her virgin-white nightdress. "I am also wary of moving to a land I do not know. Do you remember when we took our marriage vows, we swore to follow each other in sickness and in health? I have never asked you to follow me in my work before because I did not need to – you supported me wholly because you believed in me. Please, Elizabeth, follow me when I ask you to this once." A pause followed. Victor saw the indecisiveness in Elizabeth's eyes. After a while, she looked at the floor and sighed.
"Alright, Victor, I will go with you," she said. A smile started spreading on Victor's face, then halted. She didn't look entirely happy with the decision, and part of Victor felt horrid for doing this to her.
"Who knows, we may actually enjoy being in Transylvania," Victor said softly.
The ebony-black coach wound around the valley to reach the foreboding castle. As they approached along a dirt road through the mountain woods, Victor leaned out of the carriage's side window, staring up. The castle's towers, rising above the battlements, looked from a couple miles away to be incredibly high, possessing spires which almost grazed the clouds. Most towers had conical spires, but the tallest was cuboid with crown-like spires on each corner. Victor couldn't see any decay on the castle. It reminded Victor of a cathedral, despite its grey walls.
"Elizabeth, you should see this," Victor murmured quietly, sliding back into the coach. Elizabeth leaned out of her side's window for a few seconds before slinking back in.
"It's certainly very spacious-looking," she murmured, slightly awestruck. Victor had hoped her spirits would improve, but it had remained clear she wasn't in an entirely-good mood during the train journey to the Carpathians and their subsequent ride by a private coach. The coach reached gates which two men in black pulled open, revealing a courtyard which ended at the front of one of the castle's lower-buildings. The coach trundled straight to the building and stopped. Victor pushed open the side-doors and exited, then put either hand on Elizabeth's waist and helped her out. Victor and the coachman began removing the luggage, while Elizabeth looked at the castle.
After all their luggage was dismounted, Victor pushed the wooden double-doors open. Inside was a stone hall which twenty people could walk abreast and a two-story house could fit inside. Had Victor known the Count were going to give him and Elizabeth such a massive residence, he would've been compelled to say they had no need of such space. The thought of him and Elizabeth living here was somewhat dizzying. Victor looked around for a few seconds before noticing the staff assembly facing them. He felt slightly ashamed for not giving them his attention straight away. There were twenty staff, mostly male and female servants including a deformed-looking man, a physician, five maids and three cooks.
"Hello," Victor said slightly-nervously, unsure if there was a custom way to greet Transylvanian staff. A servant at the front-and-centre – a tall, willowy woman with near skin-tight clothing, dark hair in a tight bun – stepped forward, hands formally clasped at her waistline's front-centre. Several seconds passed before she was stood in front of the Frankensteins, enabling them to see her beady-eyed, pointed face.
"Greetings," she said in a low, somewhat deep though still feminine voice. "I am Frau Lugosa, the housekeeper. Count Dracula apologises that he could not be here to welcome you to your new dwellings, and sends reassurances that he shall visit to ensure you have a comfortable home stay."
"I should thank him myself when I see him," Victor said.
"I will see to it that it is remembered," Ms. Lugosa said. "Dr. Frankenstein, I believe you should wish to meet your primary laboratory assistant. Igor!" She barked so sharply and fiercely, Victor almost jumped. The deformed man stepped forward, groaning and wheezing. Looking more closely, Victor saw he had a hunched posture, a pasty-white face with sunken eyes, and stringy reddish hair somewhat clinging to his head. He wore a black-and-white uniform like the other manservants, but additionally wore fingerless gloves.
"At your service, Dr. Frankenstein," he groaned slowly, voice hoarse and wheezy. He bowed his head. "And yours, Mrs. Frankenstein." He grinned horribly, showing his rotten yellow teeth. Victor wondered what may be wrong with the man's hunched back. "Perhaps you would like to see the space that will serve as the laboratory?" Igor asked Victor.
"If the room does not meet your needs, we will immediately find another in the castle," Mrs. Lugosa said.
"Yes, I would most certainly like to see it," Victor said eagerly. "But first, I would like some help bringing mine and my wife's luggage in and showing us to our rooms." He looked at Elizabeth, who smiled sweetly at Mrs. Lugosa.
"Of course, Doctor," Mrs. Lugosa said, while Igor shuffled out the front doors. "Bring in the doctor's and his wife's belongings!" she roared with the same ferocity she'd addressed Igor with, whipping her head. Four manservants came forward. While they walked past, she said: "Igor and the others shall bring your belongings up to your bedchambers quickly. If you would both follow me." Turning, she marched into the castle, straight-backed. Victor and Elizabeth followed.
Mrs. Lugosa took them to Victor's room first, opening the door for them to look in. The room wasn't as wide as their Munich bedroom, but the ceiling was nearly fifteen feet high. The room possessed a four-poster bed with ornately-carved pillars, and was also decorated with ornate carpets and furniture.
"As you can see, Doctor, your bedchamber possesses a vast bed should you and your wife wish to share this room," Mrs. Lugosa said. "The bed's sheets are changed and tidied daily to ensure comfort for the doctor every night." Mrs. Lugosa promptly walked to the next door along, Victor and Elizabeth following.
"This, Mrs. Frankenstein, is your room," Mrs. Lugosa said, opening the door. Looking inside, Elizabeth saw it was much like Victor's room, except the bed was a non-poster bed. The desks and furniture were slightly simpler and dominated by woman's products. "It is slightly closer to the inward-facing part of the tower, providing it protection from cold winds which may cause you discomfort in the winter."
"Thank you very much, Mrs. Lugosa, we shall be able to settle ourselves in in due course," Victor said. Mrs. Lugosa nodded her head and walked away, straight-backed. Victor smiled hopefully at Elizabeth.
"What do you think?" he asked her.
"I think I might enjoy Transylvania yet," Elizabeth said, slowly approaching Victor's front, clasping her hands behind the back of his neck. Grinning, Victor lifted her up by the waist and twirled her around, making her cry out jovially. Still twirling, Victor guided them waltz-like through the open door.
The rat opened its jaws, pupils contracting under the tiny head-harness. Victor watched the creature on the diagonal table. Its jaws slowly opened wider, a front leg moved forward, the raw tip where its right hind leg had been pivoted. Victor thought the glass cube in the rat's chest pulsed rhythmically with electric light, like a heartbeat.
"Igor, cut off the electricity flow!" Victor called loudly.
"Yes, Doctor!" the hunchbacked servant, dressed in a thick shirt and ragged apron, called back from the wooden platform above the floor. He rushed down the platforms' steps to deactivate the switches, Victor sprinting across the laboratory to do the same. The hum almost-completely died down. Victor sprinted back to the rat, eyes going wide while Igor stumbled forward behind him. The rat was still moving its jaws and limbs, the glass in its chest still pulsing. Victor and Igor watched it continue moving five, ten, fifteen seconds.
"It lives longer than the last rat," Victor murmured, eyes wide with awe. "And the light. This new battery-" He pointed to the glass in the heart "-is conserving and distributing electricity for longer." He whispered to himself: "If only Henry could see this for himself and not read of it in letters…" Then he wholly turned to grin at Igor. "Your suggestion we focus more on electricity than chemicals was a very good one." He looked back at the rat. "Now let us see how long this specimen lasts for." Over fifteen minutes, the rat's movements grew weaker and slower, the light in its glass-battery dimming. The battery still had some light when the rat had been completely still for five minutes.
"Twenty minutes," Victor murmured, brows slightly furrowed. "Reactivate the electric flow, let's see what happens." Igor stumbled to reactivate the machinery, Victor rushing to help. Two minutes later, the laboratory hummed again. The rat's body went rigid, then froze, eye remaining blank. The laboratory continued humming for five seconds.
"Igor, turn it off!" Victor yelled before rushing again. When the hum cut, the rat went limp, jaws moving and eye slightly contracting. Running back to the table, Victor stared, mouth slowly forming a grin.
"The chemicals' effects are lingering longer…" Victor murmured in realisation.
"Does it work, Doctor?" Igor asked.
"Yes!" Victor yelled, turning. "Igor, the chemicals are working! Bring two more rats down, let us see if the battery can reanimate them as well!" Igor nodded. He'd taken two steps when the wooden door opened with a creak, making him look. Elizabeth entered, dressed in an artistic form of dress – golden material, orange band around the waist, pattern silk on the neckline and cuffs. She was smiling almost-secretly, and Victor swore her flesh looked pinker.
"Victor, Igor." She looked at them both. "Am I interrupting?" she asked slightly-jokingly.
"Well, the work might be able to wait," Victor murmured, curious.
"I am truly sorry to interrupt, my love, but I have important news I think you would like to hear," she said. Victor detected the tonal undercurrents of something very much worth hearing. "I didn't want it to wait when I found out." Victor's eyebrows furrowed, something he couldn't quite feel pushing him to walk to his wife and hear.
"Of course," Victor said, puzzled. "Igor, have the rats ready!" Igor turned and walked towards the door.
"What is it?" Victor asked as Igor slammed the door. He clutched Elizabeth's hand.
"It is wonderful," Elizabeth murmured, voice nearly shaky. He thought her smile grew brighter. "I'm with child." Victor felt very strange, like what he'd just learned couldn't take effect for several minutes. Looking at Elizabeth's un-swollen belly, he raised a hand and placed it there almost without thinking. She placed porcelain-like hands over his.
"Are you sure?" Victor murmured, eyes meeting her crystal eyes. Elizabeth nodded, smiling beautifully.
"The physician has examined me and confirmed so without a doubt." Victor looked dumbly, his work temporarily pushed to second-priority place in his mind. He felt like a gentle but disjoining earthquake had rippled through his existence. After a few moments, Elizabeth put a hand to Victor's jaw, making him look at her face. Again without his mind working, Victor leaned forward and kissed Elizabeth's lips, caressing her like she were the most fragile thing in the world. Elizabeth returned his tender movements.
Elizabeth marched down Castle Frankenstein's stone halls. Turning at the corridor's end to the laboratory door, the swollen-bellied woman knocked, and didn't wait for an answer before pushing it open. Victor had stopped answering door-knocks some time ago. The hall she stepped into was filled with machines and electrical equipment – taking up close to half the space – which hummed and crackled with a cacophony of noises; compared to how the hall had been when she'd announced her pregnancy six months ago. One machine was two storeys tall. Igor was among the platforms, while Victor in white coat had his back to the door at an angle, injecting a spotted, furry animal corpse using hypodermic needles.
"Victor?" Elizabeth tried calling over the noise. She gave Victor three seconds before walking towards him. "Victor." He practically jumped in surprise, turning. Elizabeth saw his eyes had become dark-rimmed since she'd last seen him a day and two nights ago.
"Elizabeth!" Victor said, seeming genuinely happy.
"My love, I'd like to speak to you," she said somewhat sorrowfully.
"Oh," Victor said, eyes seemingly wild. "Perhaps this may wait, just twenty minutes?" He began skipping over cables in the opposite direction to adjust more levers and fit rods. "I'm attempting to revive multiple creatures at the same time with one." Elizabeth saw five lynxes strapped to the table. One wore a head harness which cables extended out of, and uniquely had metal strips bolted into its flesh in places. Cables linked from this lynx's flesh into the others'. Shaking off her initial surprise, Elizabeth looked at Victor, who had his back to her again as though she'd left already. Dull-red anger flared inside her.
"My love, this cannot wait, I shall speak to you immediately or not at all!" she said loudly. Victor turned, full attention on her. Sighing, she prepared to word what she had to say without sounding unreasonable. "My love, I did not see you at breakfast, dinner or supper yesterday."
"Yesterday? Has night already passed?" Victor looked at the grey-white sky in the hall window. "I thought I told Leonte to say I may be late."
"He told me, and you did not turn up at all," Elizabeth said, brows creasing slightly. "Please tell me you have consumed something since the day before."
"Of course," Victor said, like nothing was wrong. "The servants brought mine and Igor's dinner directly to the laboratory. Did they not tell you that?"
"They did not," Elizabeth said, voice slightly icy. The staff – Mrs. Lugosa, the maids, the servants and the physician - hadn't grown on her in the nine months she and Victor had lived here. Their vagueness when she'd asked about their past to get to know them had distanced her, as had their constant icy vigilance of being formal when they talked. "What of sleep? I asked every servant who might have been in the halls at dawn and dusk, and they explicitly said they did not see you enter or leave your room."
"Igor and I have been taking turns sleeping here," Victor said. "I finished my few hours' rest not long ago." Elizabeth looked disturbed for a moment. A rustling sound and clatter made them both look up – Igor had stumbled on the platform above them, carrying an electric insulator nearly as tall as him.
"Igor, are you alright?" Victor called, concerned.
"Yes, Doctor," Igor said.
"One moment!" Victor sprinted away from Elizabeth, hurriedly climbing the wooden steps into the platforms. He took the insulator and ran to its place, then looked to make sure Igor had gotten up without trouble before descending.
"Victor, you mustn't strain yourself with your work like this," Elizabeth said as Victor came down, sounding almost exasperated. He looked at her from the steps' bottom, and she thought outrage pinched his features.
"Elizabeth, this is my life's work," Victor murmured, striding forward. Reaching her, he clasped both her hands, and locked his pleading eyes with hers, making Elizabeth almost wonder if she were right to cause this fuss. Almost now.
"And what of our child?" she asked, pulling one hand away and putting it on her belly. "Is that not your life's work as well?" Victor looked, mouth hanging slightly like he didn't know what to say. Slightly outraged, Elizabeth pressed: "It will be born in two more months, Victor, and what shall happen then?" Victor's jaw tightened.
"I shall finish the most major part of my work in time for the birth," he said, voice slightly curt with anger. "As for my health, I am getting food and sleep to ensure my mind functions optimally." Elizabeth could've sighed; Victor always had to respond this way when he felt angry but didn't want to explode. "If that is all, Elizabeth, you must leave me and Igor to continue the work." He turned and began walking away. Elizabeth grabbed his arm, stopping him.
"Victor, I am missing you," she said solemnly, bearing her feelings. "I do not want to see you immerse yourself in your work if it means you will drown."
"I will not drown," Victor said icily, looking back at her for just a moment. Then he said without looking: "Besides… You also didn't want to move to Transylvania, yet here we are regardless." Elizabeth all but flinched back.
"Now if that is all, you should leave," Victor said. "The Count will be here in two days, and I wish to perform as much as I can before then." Gently but quickly, he slid his arm out of her grasp and walked towards the machinery. Elizabeth stared after him a moment. Then she glowered, turned heel and walked to the laboratory exit.
As always, Count Dracula arrived after sunset. A manservant swung the laboratory door open, and the Count turned in.
"Count!" Victor, spinning round from his work, exclaimed jovially. He barely noticed the servants and Elizabeth entering and exiting, but his mind was somehow told when the Count was present.
"Victor, it is good to see you," the Count said softly, smiling. He unbuttoned his cloak and handed it to the manservant. Victor approached, and he and the Count shook hands like they were old friends, which Victor thought they were as good as. A wheeze made the Count's eyes track upwards. Following, Victor saw Igor look down from the platforms before continuing along. He seemed slightly intimidated. Looking back at the Count, Victor saw his face was cool before he turned to the manservant.
"See to it that Igor receives his medicine," the Count said, powerful voice beating the machinery's hum. The servant bowed his head, while Igor half-hurried down to the floor. Victor didn't care much for the Count giving orders. The staff were the Count's, and this was technically the Count's castle, so Victor thought he held ultimate authority.
"Now, my friend, let us discuss how your work fares," the Count said, smiling widely.
"Yes, indeed," Victor said. He all but hopped to the nearby operating table, flanked by two other tables. The Count stalked forward behind Victor. Each table had a dead pig upon it, held down by straps – the main table's pig had metal hoops in place of knees, a metal breastplate with cables bolted into its chest, and two cables extending from its sides to pile in disconnected hoops on the floor. "The pneuma concoction as I've named it, has progressed very well. I've developed two formulae, but the second requires the first formula to work. The pig with the metal parts-" Victor gestured, the Count's eyes observing "-has been given the first formula, while the others have been given the second formula."
"Explain," the Count said coolly, gaze shifting onto Victor.
"The first formula preserves and repairs dead tissue, but I needed something else to capture the right electrical charge, and help the chemicals to reproduce it indefinitely," Victor said quickly. "Hence, adding machine parts to the cadavers. Perhaps a demonstration?" Victor looked at the Count. He didn't need to hear a reply, darting across the lab to switch levers, place rods and adjust other switches. Victor took a long couple minutes without Igor – during which the Count looked at the pigs – before he pulled the final switch. Bright-blue electrical arcs surged through the laboratory's cables, triggering sparks from consoles they passed through, before entering the part-metal pig. Blue lightning blazed over it momentarily, then vanished. A split-second later, the pig's eyes shot open and it began screeching, unable to move with straps restraining its legs and torso. The Count's eyes were wide.
"Bear in mind, this is an improper simulation – this pig will be dead again within an hour," Victor warned.
"What of reviving corpses without machine-parts?" the Count asked, turning to Victor.
"That is where the second formula comes in," Victor said, rushing forward. He picked up the needle-tipped ends of the hooped cables, inserting either one into the other pigs. Then he rushed to readjust a few switches and re-pull the final switch. Lightning rushed into the revived pig, which squealed much harder for several seconds. The lightning-arcs turned white, then rushed through the cables into the other two pigs. Blue lightning blazed over them momentarily, then their eyes opened and they began squealing. The Count stared at both, eyes remaining wide though his face was calm, tiniest hints of a smile on his mouth's corners.
"These pigs will also die," Victor said. "The second formula can restart the body and let it continue functioning without machines, but it also needs the electrical charge to be precisely right. Otherwise the chemicals alter too rapidly."
"Can you rectify this?" Elizabeth heard Count Dracula ask darkly, spying from the spiral stone steps. Watching from the wall's curve, nearly out of sight, Elizabeth saw the Count, front facing her but eyes on the pig-occupied tables, while Victor's back was to her.
"I believe I can," Victor said, turning towards the steps. Elizabeth immediately moved behind the curve, putting a hand on her swollen belly, but thought Victor's eyes saw her in the split-second before the wall was between them. At the pause that followed, she was momentarily concerned he'd caught her. "I have been examining every experiment's results," Victor then continued, "and I believe that if more than enough electricity flows into an automaton of perfect mass and shape, with the correct machine-modifications to filter the excess charge, the perfect dosage will result."
"How sure are you of this?" the Count asked. Elizabeth, who didn't dare look again lest she be caught with certainty, didn't like his slightly-dark tone.
"Very confident," Victor said, certain-sounding.
"What will you need to construct this automaton?" the Count asked, voice dark as a graveyard on a misty morning.
"It'll need to be constructed," Victor said, sounding troubled. "And large – larger than a man. And before that, I'll need at least two months to perfect a design. I can't bring it to life with only the generators, it'll need a greater charge to reach the ideal dosage. I need…" He paused, in the way Elizabeth recognised as occurring when a sudden idea struck him. "Lightning. Yes, I need lightning!"
"How will you construct this automaton?" the Count asked. A pause followed.
"That is a problem I haven't yet solved," Victor murmured gravely. "I cannot use animal parts, I'll need-"
"Men?" the Count's voice finished, sounding nonchalant.
"Yes… Yes, men." Elizabeth thought Victor didn't sound like he were wholly awake.
"You cannot acquire legal corpses here, as I understand you can in your own country," the Count murmured. Elizabeth listened intently. "But, I am given to understand great men of science worked around such unjust laws before they were amended." Elizabeth felt slightly sick, not sure she wanted to know what the Count was suggesting.
"Y-Yes, that's true, Count," Victor murmured, sounding dazed.
"The village below this castle has a cemetery," the Count murmured, voice quiet and husky. "I think you should see where it is clearly if you look with that telescope." Elizabeth turned heel and fled up the steps, barely remembering to keep her steps quiet; insides coiling like snakes.
Count Dracula stalked into the spiral steps' archway, leaving Victor while his suggestive words wormed into the man's mind. Though the woman tried to sound silent, it was pathetic how easily Dracula could hear her heels clap-clap-clap. Her heartbeat's quickening when he'd spoken about the cemetery told him her reaction to what he'd said. Thinking of Mrs. Frankenstein, Dracula found it almost funny how difficult it was for him to penetrate the part of Victor's mind that was saved for her. Its barriers were gelatinous and thick, while every other wall in Victor's mind had been like paper. For all his gifts, Victor Frankenstein mentally had the strength of rotted wood. Dracula thought Mrs. Frankenstein might be an obstacle – he knew what power a man's feelings for a woman could have over a man, and he was concerned about just how much sway she could have over Victor.
Looking up the spiral stairway to the curve of the stone wall, Dracula smiled in a way that would've seemed either very affable, or as chilling as the Carpathians in winter.
Victor was present for breakfast the following morning, but said before leaving he didn't expect to be present for dinner. Elizabeth ate alone during dinner and supper. She'd spent most of the day thinking over what she'd heard Count Dracula suggest Victor do, reconsidering whether or not she could let it happen. Victor's experiments with legal dead parts were already questioned, could using illegal dead parts in a wild Eastern European land be so questionable? Elizabeth thought first and foremost about the child, but that answered few of her questions. Elizabeth had first remembered Victor telling her about public outcry against the early Parisian autopsies; but those bodies hadn't been obtained by grave robbery. Again a poisonous part of her mind thought, would it matter in a wild foreign land?
Yes, it would, she thought firmly when her supper was nearly finished. Grave robbing was a crime anywhere in the world. She also thought about what the villagers would do – she and Victor hadn't ever interacted with them, because the staff had warned they were deathly-superstitious and feared outsiders. Victor might have been imprisoned or lynched if he'd grave-robbed in the west for his experiments, never mind in these parts which were so mysterious. That very last thought made Elizabeth think of the staff less favourably – they'd ensured she and Victor were completely cut off in this castle. Her mind set, Elizabeth finished her meal, and left the crockery on the vast dining hall's table, striding with hands clasped in front of her swollen belly out of the hall. She walked straight towards the laboratory, hoping Victor was there and not already following the Count's suggestion – less than an hour had passed since sunset. She considered what she'd say to him. If she had to, she'd threaten to leave without telling Victor where she and their unborn child were going. A third of the way to the laboratory, a building stomach cramp made Elizabeth press a hand above her belly. Halfway, she cried out slightly with every few footsteps. Two thirds of the way, she fell to her knees, doubling over as much as she'd risk with her swollen belly. A long, agonised howl tore from her throat. She stayed on the floor for three minutes before she heard people rushing towards her. Two manservants came down the corridor, one lifting her bridal-style in strong arms. They promptly marched down the way she'd come, faces stoic.
"Tell my husband…" she barely heard her words. Summoning a burst of strength, Elizabeth briefly grabbed the other servant's arm, making him look at her.
"Tell… my husband!" she growled through her teeth, glaring fiercely. The servant looked back a moment, then nodded his head and went back towards the laboratory.
The other servant carried Elizabeth to her chamber. She was disturbed to see not only the physician by the door – a hook-nosed man in shirt and waistcoat, with bright-grey hair that thinned on the top of his head – but Mrs. Lugosa and six maids and manservants. She looked at them for a second, before screwing her eyes and screaming, feeling like her stomach were filled with fire. No-one said anything, the manservant carrying Elizabeth in and placing her on the bed, while the other staff entered behind him. Elizabeth groaned as another cramp hit. She knew women screamed when giving birth, but this pain was different – it was like a match had been lit inside her stomach and was slowly burning its inside walls.
"Th-The baby…" Was all she could gasp desperately before suffering yet another cramp. When she opened her eyes, she saw the staff were forming a circle around her. The physician was crouched in the direction her feet were facing, Mrs. Lugosa towering behind him, beady-eyed face cold. Elizabeth felt disturbed and angry, seeing the others staring the same way. She groaned against another cramp.
"SAVE MY BABY!" she screeched with sudden strength.
"It seems you have suffered a bout of food poisoning, Mrs. Frankenstein," Mrs. Lugosa said, tone completely neutral. Forcing her eyes open, Elizabeth looked at her cold face. "I am sorry to say, there is nothing that can be done." Elizabeth stared for one second. A split-second before she would've screamed as loudly as she could, hoping Victor might hear wherever he was, a servant on her right clamped a firm hand over her mouth. The other servants began grabbing Elizabeth's limbs and spreading her out like they intended to dismember her. She struggled furiously, screamed muffled noises of pain and fury against the hand, but the servants' grips were iron. In a few seconds, she could only move her chest, held down in a starfish-like pose. Groaning, she looked during a brief reprieve from the pain, and saw the physician inspecting a hypodermic needle filled with dark liquid.
"This will not hurt for long," Mrs. Lugosa purred, the tiniest, coldest smile forming by her lips' corners. The physician leaned forward, disappearing from Elizabeth's sight past the hand on her mouth. She tripled her struggles, not feeling the needle prick her ankle.
"What is happening?!" Victor rushed down the corridor to the closed door, the two manservants turning their heads. The nearest walked into the corridor, raising a hand to stop him.
"Mrs. Frankenstein collapsed in pain five minutes ago, Doctor," he explained, voice gentle and calm. "We do not yet know if she has gone into labour or is ailed."
"I must see her," Victor said, already moving forward, before the servant stopped him with a hand on his chest.
"The physician is doing all he can for her, but requires absolute privacy if he is to save her and the child," the servant said quickly and still-gently.
"But I should-"
"He needs absolute privacy," the servant repeated emphatically. Victor paused a moment. Then he reluctantly stepped back, listening for any sound from the room. He restlessly leaned against the wall with his arm for five minutes, before the door opened and a maid leaned out. She looked at Victor and marched towards him immediately. Victor instantly grew fearful at the lack of noise.
"Is my wife well?" Victor asked, removing his forearm from the wall. "What of the child?"
"I am very sorry, Doctor," the maid said solemnly. "Your wife and the child have died." Over the course of twenty seconds, Victor's world – the one shut out of his laboratory which he hadn't known he'd had – rippled like disturbed water, then crumbled. Victor was barely aware of his legs guiding him back to the wall, or his back sliding down it until he was sitting on the floor. Time seemed to lose meaning while he sat there.
Lightning flashed outside, illuminating the laboratory, while Victor near-frantically toiled with the panel's switches.
"Igor!" he shouted. "Are the generators ready?"
"Yes, Doctor!" shouted the deformed man over the electric crackle and the machines' whirring, climbing the steps to the upper-platforms.
"Good…" Victor barely heard himself say before sprinting across the laboratory, checking over mechanical instruments near the window. Another lightning-flash made Victor look at the window, seeing the sky light up. The lightning strike would be upon them any moment. They needed to be ready, the work needed the lightning. Yes, the work had to be completed tonight. Victor mentally noted their fortune that the lightning strike had come tonight, just as his only friend the Count had said it would. Victor thought it was like his friend had willed the storm to come. Could a man's, or a friend's will really do that? Wondered part of Victor's mind that his rationality didn't reach. He was vaguely aware the work's urgency had driven him for some days and nights, he wasn't sure how many had passed since he'd last eaten or drunk. He hadn't even removed the bloody apron under his coat since before sunset.
Speaking of which, Victor immediately thought to ensure the automaton was prepared. He ran across the laboratory, past the two-storey main machine, to the body table. Looking at what lay on it, Victor's heart twisted slightly, in addition to the welcome scratching feeling that occurred on his heart's internal walls. Encased by metal bands, the automaton was shaped like a man but unusually tall. Its legs in black pants ended in large, cuboid metal boots. Victor had added a hydraulic support to the right leg, as the two legs had come from mismatching corpses – none of the other bodies' legs and groins had had the right properties for both legs to be used. Above the waist, the body was clad in cloth bandages in case the surgical scars didn't fully close. Victor had cut holes in the cloth on the creature's face, so its closed eyes were visible. Looking at those eyelids, soon to open, Victor's concern for the work paused. He wondered what his creation's first reaction would be. He'd constructed the creature's brain from three corpses' to ensure he created a new person and didn't resurrect an old. It hadn't been necessary, but Victor had needed it. Would his creation rage, would it cry, would it weep like a newborn? Like his other creation might have.
Suddenly, Victor again couldn't repress the pain. He'd held it down for the work, partly helped by the Count's benevolent words, but that had seemed to freeze the healing process. Had it truly been three months since he'd lost Elizabeth and their child? It felt like it had been a week or a century at once. Victor's whole other life before and outside of the work had collapsed with them. His parents hadn't mattered anymore, Henry – who he hadn't written to since – hadn't mattered anymore. The staff, who were kindly enough when he saw them, had gently urged his work on, as had the Count. He'd focused on the work, it was all he had left. The only piece of the outside life Victor retained was the desire for a future, the kind of future that would live beyond his death. It had been partly crushed when Elizabeth had died, and Victor now had only one future child that could fill it, the one he would give life to tonight. Briefly detaching himself from the work, ignoring the laboratory's noise, Victor leaned over his creation's face. He raised a hand to almost touch the side of its head, avoiding the head-harness's metal parts.
"You… are the only child… I will ever have," he whispered so quietly no-one else would've heard, voice nearly breaking. Then Victor straightened and checked the head-harness's wires, the moment over. After checking the wires were tightly-screwed, he looked over the cables on the table's vertical pillar-poles while mentally going over every essential relating to the automaton. He'd administered the pneuma, he'd double-checked the creature's parts had been properly stitched, he and Igor had checked the pylons on the roof, and he was now checking the connections. Victor finished checking just in time, as another lightning-flash occurred.
"The lightning has struck!" Igor yelled, an electrical hum filling the laboratory. Victor rushed to the main machine, adjusting two switches before forcing the main switch forward. Two seconds later, a blue electrical ball surged downwards through the laboratory's cables and metal girders, exploding into a shower of sparks over the operating table. Electrical crackling filled Victor's ears. He sprinted back to the table, barely slowing to avoid smashing into it. Hand on the metal pillar, he leaned over the automaton's close-eyed face.
Eyes shot open. A hand with long fingernails flexed against the wrist-strap. The mouth opened, releasing a loud, melodious cry.
A/N: Please review and tell me what you think. Praise and constructive criticism are both equally welcome, but no flames please.