The Mercy of Monsters
By Brandon Herren
Part 1: Dark Dealings
"Could it be…?" The voice rasped with nervous hesitation, "that you are not a monster?"
The creature stirred slightly. He swayed only a little by his arms stretched above him to the shackles above. Large drops of water streamed down his cheek from where they dripped on the back of his head. At first he wondered if the voice had been a hallucination, a phantom in a mind long starved from sensations of the outside world. He glanced upward to the long stairway that wound down into his dungeon and squinted against the piercing light that outlined a lone advancing figure.
"Could it be you are not simply an abomination of one man's sin, an arrogance unleashed on the world of men, but rather something else?" The skinny man navigated each footfall carefully, placing his shoe down as not to slip on the moss and slime covering each step. His formal dress implied that he was a gentlemen of some standing in the nearby village. His voice bounced and echoed around the dank stonework. "What if you are something more?"
The creature raised his head fully in attention of hearing those words, and the man caught his first full glimpse of the monster with a gasp. He placed his foot down as distracted and slipped for an awkward moment before catching himself on the stone wall.
"You still believe I am not a monster?" The creature's voice cracked dryly like the last fallen leaves of autumn. His already shocking features highlighted with dirt and grime.
"M-my God…"
"No. No stranger. God has nothing to do with me."
The man approached slowly now, awestruck by the thing in front of him. "I-it's…. it's just that I… I wasn't sure you see… I'm an educated man of the 19th century. I've been to university. When the village people said that you were a daemon, I expected a monstrous abomination of a man, yes, but a man still nonetheless. B-but… you really are something else aren't you?" The man looked at the scars of stitch-work covering the creature in front of him.
The creature shifted now to steady his weight. His clothes were rotten rags, the stench of which almost overwhelmed the pervasive odor of must and mold in the constantly damp hole that had been the home of the reanimated man for months. "Why?"
The man searched the gray and dirt-smeared face of the thing that half-hung from thick iron bonds in as much awe as horror. "Why? Why are you here?" He squinted thoughtfully at the captive. "That is a thought of some complexity. My daughter was correct in her discussion of you. You are a being of some cognizance."
"No." The creature's voice was now clearer, and gaining strength. "Why… have you come here? Why have you put yourself in such grave peril?" He righted himself to his full height now and breathed deeply as his eyes pierced through the man.
"Oh… ah…" The man stumbled backwards in fear even with the monster in chains. "No… I…"
"You mentioned your daughter. I assume she is the same gentle child who has visited me here in my prison. Who has brought the food that has kept me alive."
"Y-yes. It is she." The man relaxed now at a distance. "She stole away in her hours of play unbeknownst to anyone. When I discovered her secret activity last week I was sick with fear and forbade her return. She protested in your behalf but I would have none of it."
"But you have reconsidered…"
"Yes." A shadow fell over the man's face as well as the room from a cloud passing above. The streaks of light shooting through the holes in the stonework faded out. "The disappearances have begun anew. The villagers believed the villain caught when they ambushed you, but now that would seem to not be the case. No female child in this countryside is safe."
"And so perhaps I am not the monster after all. I see. You have come here for my assistance."
"Yes."
The two stood for a long moment without speaking. The dripping water echoed in the recesses of the half-collapsed corridors that adjoined the subterranean prison. The man was at once aware of his fearful surroundings when a rat brushed his leg as the monster stood silently looking toward the ground.
"I will need clothes and a warm meal."
"Of course. And what else?"
"That is all. And I will go free when this task is complete."
The man shook is head, not entirely convinced of his answer. "Then we have a gentlemen's agreement?"
The creature made a short grunt of a laugh.
"And…" The man jumped in. "Just one more thing. If we are to be as partners in this dreadful affair, I would like to know your name."
"My name?" The creature stopped on the question for a moment as if genuinely unsure of the answer. "That would be a simple matter had my creator bothered to present me with one. I can only be called one thing as the need has arisen, to carry the name of my father as a curse like the very life he so thoughtlessly and arrogantly bestowed upon me, and has suffered so dearly for. My name is Frankenstein."
"So it is true. I had heard whispers while among the academia during my last visit, hushed rumors and ghastly secrets of the doctor's mad experiments… And I scoffed at their foolishness. How was I to know that when I returned I would find you." The man reached to the inside pocket of his coat to retrieve something as he moved forward. "Here. Let us remove your bonds." He produced a key and showed it to the creature.
Frankenstein didn't notice as he looked down again and his body tensed. The muscles beneath his rough green-gray skin flexed tightly and he planted one booted foot forward. The heavy irons went taut and groaned in defiance briefly before the masonry holding them shifted. The was a low scraping sound as the entirety of the ancient castle keep above seemed to move under the creature's power. The rock holding his restraints gave to the pressure and exploded. What was left of the wall crumbled as he moved freely forward. He brought one hand over to twist off the bolting mechanism and did the same for the other arm and the shackles fell with a clatter on the floor.
"You could have fled at any time?" The man's senses reeled as his mind tried to keep up with each new astonishment. "Why did you stay here?"
"I had no reason to leave, no purpose to pursue. Where is a thing such as myself to go in this world?"
The man watched as he could see expression now in the creature's face for the first time. It was one of a stressed burden as he now stood free on the world once again, as if he immediately regretted regaining his freedom and was now lost.
"Now you have a purpose. Come. I have a barn where you can rest and fill your stomach before the dark dealings of the night hours to come."
Part 2: Without Pity
The dark shape sped through the chilled wind, creeping between the buildings and homes of the small community. Even with a burden over its shoulder nearly its size, it moved effortlessly and with an unnatural speed. Its large, dark eyes glinted with the moon's light as it glanced around hastily. Its clothing was as black as the shadows it moved in and out of and there was little to betray his presence to the watchmen at both ends of the main road. A flash of lightning illuminated its pallid face for scant seconds before it moved again.
In moments the shadow was advancing silently over the leaf-strewn ground of the hillside beyond the village. The young girl it carried as its cargo stirred in and out of consciousness as the first drops of rain hit her cheek. She tried to call out for help but was unable to summon the will. She saw the ground rushing underneath and the felt boney, claw-like hands wrapped around her legs. Somewhere in her nascent thoughts she was aware that she was to be the next victim of the mysterious predator.
As the kidnapper topped the hillside another flash of lightning revealed the shape of a large man directly blocking its route. The dark thing attempted to leap over its opponent but was caught by the throat and forced back down to damp earth, now alleviated from its captive. The thing hissed and thrashed wildly at being interrupted from its mission.
The creature set the girl down as she quickly regained her senses. His face was obscured by a wrap of material. "Do not panic. Run back to your family as fast as you can."
The girl breathed hard as she stumbled clumsily in her first steps and was quickly gone.
Frankenstein turned his attention back at the thing beneath him. Its countenance was almost without color, accented only by yellow eyes and dingy, pointed teeth, the two in the front being more pronounced and of irregular length. Without hair, its only other features were pointed ears, a crooked nose, and misshapen brow. "You're nothing more than vermin."
The thing tore at his sleeve and swiped the cloth from his face before letting out a seething gurgle that strung into a sibilance of words. "The massster will be angry… you mussst let me beeee…."
"Where is he?" The creature spread his fingers like a claw and pressed them into the vampyre's chest just over his heart.
"No. I can't tell you. He'll kiiiiiilll meeeee…"
"I'm going to kill you. It's only a matter of how painful this will need to be." He pushed hardly, forcing his fingers into the necrotic flesh with a squirt of thinly-colored plasma.
"Aiiiiiiiieeeee!!! No! No, ssssstoooop!"
"Where?" The creature's voice was flat and without pity. He pushed his hand deeper into the thing's chest.
"Aaaaiiii! Curssssse you." The vampyre's already horrible countenance twisted into new terrible expressions. "Over… o-over the next valley. The manor… in the foothillssss…."
Frankenstein closed his fingers and crushed the vampyre's heart. Its shriek was cut short as its body rapidly degenerated into dust.
As the girl reached the edge of her village she heard the horrible screams of her would-be captor echo through air, sounds she would carry with her until her dying day.
Part 3: Frankenstein vs. The Vampyre
Lord Ruthven sat and watched the downpour through the large glass doors. A low-burning fire crackled in the hearth behind him while his head rocked back and forth, as if the pattering of the heavy drops outside were in time with some unheard spectral symphony. His appearance was well-kept and his fanciful attire one of undue privilege. The Lord's light skin was off-set by his striking ebon hair that flowed around his long, thin face. Ruthven's cool gray eyes stared with piqued interest as a shape approached in the strobe of the electric storm.
The large man continued without pause along the length of the yard and then unimpeded through the doors, shattering them as he progressed inside. Frankenstein stopped in front of his enemy.
"You are not at all who I was expecting. A loyal minion or torch-bearing mob yes, but what are you?" The Lord's eyes flared at the remarkable thing in front of him.
"I am Hell's mercy, fiend." The soaked creature stood dripping and unmoving.
"A fiend am I? So that would make you God's avenging angel? A vengeance set upon the earth to strike down the wicked for past sins perhaps?" Ruthven laughed.
"Perhaps."
The self-proclaimed Lord continued, his level demeanor never wavering. "Or a shamble of a beast. Some accursed fool brought on by some misbegotten sorcery, left to roam without direction in man's world. A lost soulless thing. Why do you take this cause with me? Extraordinary beings such as we should stand united."
"I do not think so. I may be many things, neither desirable nor of worth, but I am not a parasite."
"Then know my power!" Lord Ruthven launched from his chair on the creature with blinding speed, clawing and shredding an intermingled mess of cloth and flesh.
The creature only gritted his teeth and shot out an arm, catching one of the vampyre's own and hurling him back into a bookcase and sending a jumble crashing to crash on the floor with Lord Ruthven. The vampyre hissed and flew back at the creature, locking onto his shoulders with its claws.
"You cannot kill me! I have lived for centuries, preying on the weak and feeble creatures of this world. We will one day rise as the masters of these pitiful humans and all will do our bidding!" Ruthven reared back with a hiss as his now pronounced fangs came down into the creature's neck.
Frankenstein stumbled to one side and into a table, crashing through and down to the tiled floor. Another lightning flash illuminated the vampyre's face as he recoiled in disgust. He spat the creature's blood out as if it burned his mouth. Frankenstein reached over to grab a jagged leg of the destroyed table and shoved it forward. The vampyre writhed and shifted, causing the stake to miss the heart and driving into the middle of its chest instead. The vampyre's appearance grew hideous and less human now. The Lord's eyes burned red and his features were sharp and horrific.
"I will kiiiiilll you!" The vampyre swiped at the creature's throat but Frankenstein reached out with both hands and seized the thing's head on both sides.
"Perhaps I have found a purpose after all. I may be an abomination, but there are far worse things under heaven than I." His grip tightened on the vampyre's skull and it squealed in pain.
"No! I am an immortal! Where is your mercy now?" Ruthven clawed and lacerated the monster's arms frantically. Dark streams of blood ran freely down the creature's arms.
"Mercy is for men. And we are monsters." Frankenstein jerked his hands to the right, twisting and snapping the vampyre's head from his shoulders. Gore sprayed out of the neck of the vampyre's spasmodic body as Frankenstein kicked it away. He continued to squeeze the head between his large hands as it cracked and collapsed into a pulpy mess before suddenly eroding into dust.
Frankenstein rose to his feet and surveyed the room to find the man from before in the ruined doorway. He stepped inside and looked around.
"You've done, Frankenstein. You've freed us from this scourge. There are not words to express our gratitude."
"Why did you follow me?" The creature wiped blood from his neck and arms with the remnants of Ruthven's clothes.
"I, uh, I needed to be sure. Certainly you understand. I could not rest until I knew."
The creature nodded. "You are lucky to have a family to care for."
The man stepped through the wrecked interior. "These books. Some of them are very old. I've never seen anything quite like them. It must have been the vampyre's collection." The man shuffled through the pile on the floor. He raised one archaic volume without a label and flipped its yellowed pages. "Oh my. Fantasmagoria, daemons, incantations…"
"Take them. I plan to set this house afire when I depart."
"Yes." The man flipped the pages and stared in disbelief. "My son Abraham has become quite taken in all of the supernatural goings on in these past months, much to my chagrin. If only I could keep him as interested in his course work."
The monster wrapped a piece of drapery onto another broken table leg and laid it beside an oil lamp. The rainfall outside lessened as the storm was finally passing.
The man closed the book and put it inside his coat. "Where will you go?"
"I do not know."
"I am forever indebted to you, Frankenstein. If you ever need help….. Seek me out."
The monster stopped and nodded at the man in agreement. "What do I can call you, 'man who does not believe in monsters'?"
The man was taken aback as it almost looked like the creature had the barest hint of a smile.
"My name is Van Helsing."
The End