Chapter one
My friends call me Jay, but my real name is Victor Von Javier Frankenstein.
I'm an inventor mostly, but just recently I've discovered something. I dabbled with chemical engineering and found out about the decaying properties of human's and I must say it kinda piqued my interest because I have gained an insight into the creation of human life.
Some more background information about me; well I was 17 when my dearest parents died of scarlet fever. They were both noble and honourable people, highly respected in their own fields of expertise both counsellors and government officials.
Indeed they were sought after at soirees and banquets alike.
Before they passed we all lived in a rich and luscious part of Naples, an idyll in a beautiful part of Europia. My home in beautiful Italy, surrounded by rich orchards, vineyards and a beautiful expanse of blue sea stretching as far as the eye could see. My mother used to tell me that when she looked into my eyes she would see the Aegean.
When they died, my wealth came as a surprise. They left me with a small fortune. I was still in my studies though so the syndics assigned me a governess. Nary had I ever been so humiliated. Luckily I only had to endure her until I turned 18 and then she left.
Nowadays I find myself living in the grey smog ridden city of London, amidst the despair and degradation of the poor city folk. They shamelessly beg at my feet. I offer them mere coins for their suffering but it never seems enough. Many it would seem, have cholera, some have typhoid.
But here am I, shamelessly relaxing in my own induced madness whilst the poor struggle to thrive, their daily struggles are as always, the same, such a harsh life.
'I wish I lived in a time where these diseases were non existent, life would be fairer for all, my dreams tell me that maybe I did.'
I sit here in my ivory tower and while away my hours watching as their lives seem to spiral out of control. Their poor lives are so fleeting, like mere petals in spring, floating away on the breeze, a lost cause, a sad pathetic existence, just barely surviving. Alas, if hunger, disease or abject poverty does not claim them then the unscrupulous crooks and degenerate reprobates surely will, in due course.
I however, can do no more for them. I give them food, coins from my own pocket but still they beg, still they plead, their cries alone make my insanity crave their own pitiful demise. I have never known such suffering, even in Naples I was somewhat shielded from it, call it sheltered whatever…I call it privileged.
My gaze wanders back to the imposing black transom windows that I sit by. Strangely enough the cold spring morning is still cold and unwelcome, penetrating my mind like a numbing shard of ice.
All I can see from this single pane of glass is a mud strewn park opposite. The April showers having done a number on what was once lush and vibrant green grass, now stands as dirty and brown as the nearby river.
The park is still full of people, they ride in carriages mostly, that further sully the park with treads that resemble scars. The only beauty that still remains is the last remnant of spring, the trees and the dying daffodils.
The high black iron railings surround the patch of brown and green, and the privacy of the park is lined with ash and elm trees and the rather imposing oak that stands proud front and centre, as if standing to attention to a long since dead brigadier….at ease soldier.
Across the Thames river is Victorian London, or London town as she is affectionately known. The foundries and workhouses between them, issue billows of black acrid smoke, the plumes wafting into the sky, blackening the atmosphere further, shielding the sun from all and sundry.
The poor inhabitants of course, are the ones that suffer. Their coughs and sneezes certainly spread diseases, it is no lie! And of course, Tuberculosis runs rife as does pneumonia, however only the aristocrats and opulent rich can afford adequate care from their physicians. The rest of the poor wayward souls are simply left to die.
I will treat any and all regardless, especially if they sign a disclaimer.
The others however, I wait…I wait in my ivory tower, for the right moment to strike. I have already taken two of them. 'Waste not want not' is my motto anyway, well, amongst many others, please forgive me, my mind is a little twisted at times, too much electrical activity!
However mad I may seem, I am not completely lonesome. I do have companions, we get together often, have for a while now. Although it stumps me to know that we all somehow share a bond. We watch out for each other and have done since that fateful day.
In all actualities, these friends of mine, are due to dine in my company tonight, in my luxurious homestead, a soiree no less. And again for reasons unknown they have rather elongated names also, so we call each other by our nom de plume, a pen name if you will, we never use our real names, not any more.