Hey everyone! I am SO sorry about my lack of updates. Life's been pretty mad lately, and fanfiction had to take a lower priority. But anyway, here is the next chapter and I hope you enjoy it. I made it a bit longer than normal to try and make up for my absence. Thanks for all of the support so far, as always. Please read, review and share. Really interested to hear what you guys think! Also, a special thanks to my friend David Bulman for helping me with some ideas!
Despite Riff Raff's advice, sleep had managed to escape me all night. I had tossed and turned, trying to find comfort but my thoughts prevented me. My heart raced uncomfortably quickly into the early hours and closing my eyes only increased my worry. Today was the day I had been waiting for, praying for. But the line between excitement and fear had never been more blurred.
By 5am, I had given up completely. I opened the curtains in my room and looked out at the sky. It was a deep blue, hazy with a hint of the sunrise to come. The stars were still twinkling but the moon was low. I rubbed my eyes and yawned with an animated stretch, still unsure about the day's events. My eyes were heavy and my body ached and so I dressed slowly, having to sit down between each garment of clothing.
I had chosen my clothes last night after much deliberation. Something to show Frank the new me. My shortest skirt, stocking and suspenders, a corset-ribbed top… you know, Transylvania-style. As I finished applying my make-up with my plum lipstick, I looked into the mirror and sighed. While I tousled my hair, impressed at how well I scrubbed up, I found myself distracted. I closed my eyes and I saw Frank – I ran through every scenario, every possible way he could react. But then, I saw Brad. I remembered our wedding day. Betty and Ralph wished us the happiness that they themselves had found. She had dried my tears before the photos, beaming like a proud parent, like my parents had done also. They were tears of happiness, but also of fear. Fear of the enormity of the task of moving on from our past, from Frank. Was it because I knew then that it could never be done?
I could not think of Frank without thinking of Brad, and vice versa. The feeling that I had betrayed them both always haunted me. But I was strong. I could choose to be a tragic damsel, or I could see the silver lining. To love is to live. And I had loved twice.
By 6:30am, I was downstairs and pacing the kitchen, wishing that my stomach would let me eat. Instead, I decided to make myself a cup of tea and open a new packet of cigarettes. I took my mug and proceeded to the lab, a painful lump now in my throat. I thought that, in my slumber, I had somehow managed to get lost, but I soon realised that I was indeed in the lab but it had changed since I had last been there. The most prominent change was the familiar red tank in the centre of the room. Riff Raff's desk had been moved to clear space, but there were still pieces of paper scattered around like confetti. I found Riff Raff slumped over in desk and with a pencil still in his hand, as if he had fell asleep while adding the finishing touches to his recipe for man.
His was apparently in a deep sleep as my presence had not disturbed him and I felt it would be a shame to wake him, as well as selfish. Instead, I slowly approached the tank and tried to peer inside. Frank's body was suspended in the tank, as Rocky's had been on the night my life had changed. His body was draped in an old sheet, only leaving the head uncovered. The jelly-like substance surrounding him and keeping him still smelled clinical, almost like a hospital, and being near it for even a couple of minutes was making my eyes sting. I backed away but looked longingly at him through the panes on the side of the tank, similar to his coffin, while the excitement buzzed through me as I realised that soon we would have him back. Flaws and all, Frank would be alive.
I heard the sound of rustling paper behind me, and turned to find that in an involuntary sleep-induced movement, Riff Raff had knocked a pile of papers onto the floor. Pencils and other stationary clattered onto the floor, the sound ricocheting around the hollow room. I rushed to help him by collecting his papers and he visibly flinched – I think it was a mix of still being half-asleep and being on-edge for the day's events. He mumbled good morning as he watched me scramble his possessions together, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
"Good morning, Riff," I said cheerfully. I had placed my cup on his desk and he assumed it was his. I said nothing and allowed him to continue, feeling rather guilty as I had flicked my ash into it. However, he did not notice the odd taste, so it seemed a shame to tell him. "Are we just about ready to go?"
"Yes, Janet, I believe we are," Riff replied. There was a melancholy tone to his voice, perhaps exaggerated by his grogginess. But mostly, it was because Riff knew that today could possibly go disastrously wrong. I put a comforting hand on Riff's shoulder and the twitch that I come to accept as his smile flickered in acknowledgement. "I suppose I should get started."
Usually I would protest and allow him some proper rest, or at least some breakfast but I admit that I acted selfishly and could not wait much longer. He hobbled over to the tank and peered in as I had done. His apprehension was obvious and I felt a pang of guilt, but as much as this was about Frank being revived, it was also about Riff Raff doing this for me as a good friend.
Knowing that Riff Raff would only become infuriated if I tried to help, I sat and watched as he pottered around the lab, checking equipment and calculations. I myself must have dozed off because the next time I looked up, Riff Raff was waiting patiently by the tank, staring at me. "Sorry, Riff," I mumbled. "Is he ready?"
Riff Raff nodded and so I rushed to his side. "Go and turn the red wheel over there." I ran to the controls, next to the monitor where I had first used to discover Brad's indiscretion and turned the wheel as instructed until the potion rack dropped to Riff's height. He took a deep breath and began to add the ingredients, his face steeped in concentration and panic as he frantically worked. The manic glee that I had seen in Frank's eyes when he had brought Rocky to life was nowhere to be seen; Riff's had determination and quiet confidence.
Instead of the rainbow that had appeared and had in fact been vital to the creation of Rocky, the tank had simply became cloudy, a mix of grey and purple, similar to the colour of mild bruising, leaving only the silhouette of Frank's body visible. "Turn it back!" Riff Raff yelled. I did as I was instructed, and stopped when I heard the clunk of metal hitting the ceiling. Riff Raff had disappeared from view but quickly returned with a metal structure which I had not seen before. He silently attached it to the tank and plugged it into what looked like a small generator.
"Riff Raff, what is that?" No reply. "Riff, what are you doing?" No reply. He had stepped back from the contraption, holding a remote in his hand. "Riff Raff, tell me what that is, right now!"
"I'm sorry, Janet." He pressed a button on the remote and the tank groaned. I looked to Riff Raff for answers, tears stinging my eyes as I realised what was about to happen. "Whatever happens, don't go anywhere near the tank. Once the process starts, you can't stop it." He had begun to shout above the roar of the generator. I looked back to the tank to see it glow with sparks of electricity, almost blinding us. The smoggy water began to move, and the silhouette began to jerk awkwardly. I could only cover my mouth and watch as the contraption leapt into life, shrieking as if the metal was in pain.
The lights in the lab shorted out with the amount of power the tank needed and flickered briefly before leaving us in the darkness with occasional sparks from the electricity. And then it began. The creaking metal was drowned out by a piercing cry. I started to ask Riff Raff what the sound was, but I soon realised that the sound was coming from within the tank. Instinctively, Riff Raff grabbed me as I tried to run towards Frank and pulled me to the floor. Looking back, I thought that he was just restraining me, but, in hindsight, I think he was comforting me.
As I broke down, shaking and sobbing, he held me in his arms. I lay on the floor, reaching out to Frank while Riff then lay next to me with his arms over me. I called his name in the hope that he knew that I was here and that it would be over soon. I watched as the black figure in the tank involuntarily contorted and thrashed, knowing that I could do nothing. The adrenaline from my panic soon diminished and, exhausted, I lay on the floor still crying silent tears as Frank's screams continued. I covered my ears, just wanting it to stop and closed my eyes as hard as I could.
The next thing I knew, I was being shaken. "Janet, it's over. It's stopped, Janet." I opened my eyes and slowly sat up. The lights had come back on and the room was silent.
"Did it work?" I asked desperately. "That was his voice, Riff, that was him… screaming."
I looked at the tank and the figure was now motionless. I was praying, to no-one in particular, that it had worked. It had to work. I stood, rather unsteadily, and approached the tank once again. The fog began to clear to reveal Frank's face. His eyes were still closed. I turned to Riff Raff with rage in my eyes. I knew he had tried his best, but I just wished he had tried harder. There was true remorse in his eyes, however, and this was his scientific failure as well as my wake. Neither of us could speak – what was there to say? I walked away from Riff and Frank, feeling empty and disappointed to say the least.
Just as I reached the elevator, Riff Raff exclaimed, "Wait! Janet, wait! He's… Frank, he's…" I turned and ran to the tank to see a… still motionless Frank.
"Is this some kind of sick joke? Riff Raff, I swear you…" But then I saw what he was talking about. I peered further into the tank. The jelly had disintegrated and Frank lay on the cold metal. His skin seemed as if it was literally crawling, but it was the pigment brightening. It spread across his body steadily like a rash, finally flushing out his face. His eyelids began to twitch and flutter as if they were about to open. I looked at Riff Raff, who seemed as excited as I – his experiment had been a success.
"Frank… can you hear me?" I said quietly. "Frank?"
To our amazement, Frank lifted his arm to his face, shielding his eyes from the light. I burst into tears again, so relieved that it had worked. He groaned as the rest of his body began to wake up – understandably, he probably felt a bit stiff. And then, he opened his eyes and looked up at Riff and I. He seemed confused and was probably a bit scared at us peering down at him, crying and grinning wildly.
"Master…" Riff Raff gasped, amazed at his own success.
"Frank," I whispered, "you're alive!"
Frank pulled himself up to a sitting position in his cocoon. "What the hell is going on? And who on Transylvania are you?"
