"Hello? Father are you home?" A man called out as he closed the front door, noting dully that the butler wasn't there. His name was Edward Gryphon, a gentleman of good continence and even better manners. He became part of the aristocracy when he had dubbed Baron of Wesley. He was son of Victorin Gryphon and Gardenia Wilson, a scientist and a daughter of a baronet. His mother had died when he was 2 years of age, so he never knew or missed her.

"Anyone?" Edward walked further into the foyer.

The foyer was small, with wooden flooring and paneling. Not the queens entrance but fine just the same. He stopped in the center, and listen. Faintly her heard it, and knew instantly where to go. His step sure and his mind clear Edward went to the back of the house, to the small library.

There he pulled a plain volume, third shelf from the top and fifth book over, of inconsequential knowledge from its place, and stepped back. The bookcase creaked and groaned as it shifted backwards, revealing a stone lined passage. Edward traced his way down and came to a door of solid steel. He bent down almost to the ground and sought the switch against the wall which would open the door. Light flooded the passage way and he stepped into the room.

The chamber was windowless and lined with numerous lights and oil lamps. (They did have short lasting iridescent light back then just in 1860) In the center was a large glass chamber that currently was filled with gas and electricity which was flying off of the metal at the top. There was a control panel beside it with metal and glass vials gleaming and bubbling. In front of the control panel was a man with a look of anticipated rapture. He was rather stooped and yellow skinned his hair was limp with filth and his eyes were glazed.

"Father, what are you doing now?" Edward asked looking around with a look of curiosity. Although in reality he was thoroughly disgusted and slightly scared with what his father did down here and what was created.

The man turned a look of joy crossed his features. "Ah! Edward, my son, how are you? When did you get back from University?"

"Fine, I just arrived..." Edward started but stopped short and blanked his features when he heard the air release for the glass chamber.

His father peered inside and groaned. "Aww! It did not work! I must try something else… It must have been the Nitrate..." He cried almost child like and pulled a charred mass of …something from the chamber, and went back to his notes.

"Um Father? What was that that you pulled from the chamber?" Edward asked, eyeing the thing.

"Wha… oh Edward!" He jumped; he had forgotten that Edward was still there. "That would be the neighbor's cat." He said as calmly.

The only sound that escaped was a soft "oh" and he turned to leave, "I'll see you at dinner, sir". And as calmly as he could Edward exited the room.

What in the world was his father thinking? Baking the neighbor's cat?! What was wrong with him? Has he become mentally unstable? All Edward knew was that his father was crazed and he did not feel save.

Weeks passed and he spent as little time as possible at home. One night when he had just got home the butler, Friggens, an old skeleton of a body, who had fled during his father's "experiments", told him his father wanted to see him in his study.

He appeared in the study but no one was present, he walked further in. "Sir, you wanted me?"

As he reached the desk he heard a creaking sound but before he could turn around he heard a smashing sound and searing pain before he crumpled to the floor.

Consciousness came to Edward replacing sweet oblivion with dull throbbing pain and frozen limbs. He slowly opened his eyes, and then shut them again at the blinding light and nausea it cased. He waited for the pain to subside then opened his eyes again, his vision cleared and he was able to see, unfortunately.

He was inside the glass experiment chamber. Peering out he saw his father fiddling at the control panel. Edward had had a suspicion that his father had been planning something, but never thought this. He felt fearful rage fill him and tried to pound on the glass, before he realized that his arms and legs were tided with sturdy leather straps.

"FATHER, what the hell do you think your doing? You have absolutely lost it!" He continued to rage until he got the monster's attention.

"Ah, boy, you're finally awake, I'm sorry about this but I needed another subject and you were the only one I could think of. It should not hurt; I believe I have finally got it right." The last part he said as if it was an after thought and walking away muttering to himself.

"But I am your son! How could you do this to me?" Edward screamed angrily and pulling against his binds.

Victorin stopped immediately and turned to him, his face cold and contorted." You are NOT my son." Then he threw the switch.