Hello. If you like historical and geographical accuracy then you're going to have to suspend your disbelief. Excuse me.


Indoctrinated

A distant memory:

Bloodied fist connected with soft jaw, but when his head touched down, he knew the force behind the bash was a listless mockery of what is should have been. It was suppressed, enormous power that blew back his hair and cracked his baby teeth deliberately held back. Not enough to dislocate his jaw, not enough to break the mandible, but just enough to bruise and swell; and he'll see his mission every time he looked in the mirror. Every time he took a bite of bread or a shake of his head. Just enough to make him fear for his life until the next time they came to him, and he'd do anything for them just to make it stop.

He was just a boy.

Cold floor under his hands. Hot blood running from somewhere and internal bleeding. They made they wanted from him loud and clear, and he didn't for a second believe that they wouldn't follow up on their threats. A man in white Union uniform smiled softly down at him, motioning for the bigger, brutish man to stop.

"So, Tesamu-dear, you know what to do?"

Tesamu rolled onto his stomach, refusing to let him see the filth running from his nose. "I kno-know," he stuttered, slurring his words out over his swollen tongue. He'd bitten into it too many times. "Fer-anken-stein…is a traitor. I'll perforhm my duties without fail. It's my job to steal back our knowledge."

"You're a genius, boy, did anyone ever tell you that?"

The Union official flippantly flicked his wrist. The brute bore down on him. Crack, bam. The toe of a shoe connected with end of his ribs and Tesamu let out a yelp. He rested his forehead on the ground, his necklace digging into palm of his hand. He held onto it, held onto something. It'll all be over soon. It'll all be over...

"Alright now, and how often will you report back to us?"

A rough hand picked him up by the scruff of his neck and pulled him back onto his feet. His knees felt weak, ready to buckle at any moment. "I-I will try…at least once a week. Everyday, if — if I can manage."

"I'm so sorry, Tesamu-dear, but if we don't hurt you enough, it won't be very convincing, would it?"

He tensed up again. "…No."

A heel dug into his back, throwing him forward, and he could feel his insides sloshing from side to side as both of his hands grazed over the ground.

"Are you ready Tesamu? You need to be careful, always careful. You don't know what kind of lies that abomination will try to feed you. You know who he is."

"…Yes," he croaked, swallowing back tears. "Frankenstein is humanity's traitor and the Union's traitor. He's a murderer and a thief."

The Union man nodded, satisfied with that answer. "We have one opportunity and one opportunity only to destroy our enemy. Tesamu-dear, of every part of this plan, you're the most integral proponent."

"To gain his trust until I can draw him out," Tesamu said. He was glad he practiced the words in his mind before this. Tesamu managed a wry smile. "He'll be Union's in a matter of time, Sir."

"You make us proud Tesamu. Your name will go down in history — you're the saviour of mankind, you know. I hope you're proud, Tesamu-dear."

It hurt, he bled, but behind it all — the acting tough, the strict obedience, the confident remark, he thought he was doing something important to help his people. His people, who had been mercilessly slaughtered by mutants this man had created.

Frankenstein.

Frankenstein.

He mulled the name over in his head, seared it into the very recesses of his subconscious where light was day and dark was night and Frankenstein, was evil. He convinced himself he was doing this for the greater good, that a little pain wouldn't hurt too bad. He had convinced himself he was strong and brave, like his mother wanted him to be.

He had convinced himself.

But deep down, past the months of the Union's conditioning, of mindless indoctrination, he did anything they wanted him to if it meant he could live. If destroying Frankenstein was going to aid mankind and avenge the dead, that was what he'd do if they ordered.

He just wanted to live.


In the snow:

When he opened his eyes, he didn't know what he'd expected. Gnarled teeth? Matted hair? Red eyes?

So this was what an abomination looked like? Long hair, neat black bow and blue stare.

He just looked human.

The traitor dropped the body of the mutant staged there by the Union like a flimsy rag doll. He was reminded of that girl back in his village when people were still alive: that girl who could beat him in every single game of hopscotch drawn in the dirt they played. He held onto her stuffed figurine when it was her turn and it was soft and breakable between his powerful fingers. He could make her yell if he squeezed the doll too hard and made it's fabric head roll. A mutant, one of those things that destroyed everyone whose name he'd ever learned in his short lifetime — and the traitor took it down with a twist and a snap. Just like that doll.

There was a grind of wood, the wind of a tossing motion ruffling his hair, and he was drenched in light. Through his non-blackened eye, he saw the traitor lift his hiding place and throw it to the side. The traitor's back was towards the mutant and Tesamu couldn't help but squirm under the man's self-assurance. One twist, one snap, and the mutant was surely dead. It was barely a fight. Why bother checking?

His blue eyes widened in sudden surprise. They darted up and down, skimming over every inch of his sunken body, and it was only then that Tesamu remembered what he must have looked like. His upper lip was split, he could feel the bruises with the slightest movement he made and for once, he was glad for the cold. He couldn't feel much else. The traitor's lips drew back into a grim, spiteful expression. But then the second passed and his entire body drooped.

"Tu es en sécurité."

What was he saying? Tesamu shook his head fitfully. He didn't understand.

The traitor looked down, pursing his lips. Tesamu didn't understand why he looked so downcast. Wasn't that kill easy for him? Tesamu opened his eyes wider, taking in his image and totally resigned to his fate. He'd read every file on the Union's traitor and understood: this man was dangerous, ruthless and merciless. His cover was immaculate but that was what worried him. With this man, there was nothing he couldn't or wouldn't do to him.

"Je bent veilig," the traitor tried again.

The traitor's lips turned up into a smile. His body was rigid, his brow was wet, his fingers hovered in a way as if his first instinct was to reach out, touch him, but he wasn't sure if he was allowed to. But then he wiped his dirty hands all over his nice, clean clothes and slowly, gently, offered one to Tesamu.

"Er...erm...Olet turvassa?" A stroke of panic crinkled his face. It occurred to Tesamu that he hadn't being speaking one language. He looked like he was racking his mind for something. A sense of urgency crossed his face.

"Sei al sicuro?

"Du bist sicher?

"Et dixistis liberati sumus?"

Oh. Recognition lit up his eyes for a millisecond. Tesamu didn't say a word.

The traitor's hands were warm; his hands were frostbitten. Another something flashed through the traitor, and pair of small hands were squeezed between pair of hot hands.

"Omnia tuta. You're safe now," he said, familiar sounding words flowing out of his mouth, "you're safe, you'll be alright. It's dead. You don't have to be scared anymore…"

But this was scaring him. The traitor suddenly let go, throwing his hands back to himself. The startled look twitched off his face. He took off his black coat. He quickly draped it over Tesamu. He stopped hesitating and took Tesamu's trembling hands again. He squeezed them, as if he could steal away the frostbite onto himself. Tesamu felt so scared. It shouldn't be this easy.

"No, no-no, don't look back there. Look at me, yes, look at me," the traitor chimed in, shaking his hands between his. He followed his orders. Tesamu looked him straight in his eyes, and when he did,

"Everything's going to be alright."

He rubbed his thumb in small circles, rubbing the blood flow back into his hands. "You're going to be alright, you'll…You have my word," he said like he meant it, like he wasn't so good at lying.

"You're safe."

Tesamu almost believed it.

"You don't have to say anything. I…you're very hurt. I need to put my arms around you and carry you away from here. Alright? I'm going to get you out of here, I promise." That made his expression tighten, and he clung onto that word. "I promise I'll get you out of here. I promise you'll be safe. I promise."

That smile came back, slow and careful and doing it's absolute best.

"My name is Faust."

There it was. The lie. But this was good. When he told him his real name, then he'd know when to start his mission.

"Te…samu."

"Tesamu," he repeated jovially. "Tesamu," he said again, lifting him from the squalor of the ruins. "That's a nice name," he blurted, trying to keep the flow of words going. "And how old are you, Tesamu?"

"I…maybe eight?"

"Oh." Tesamu didn't see him frown, though he thought he might have. "You must be hungry. Let's go get some food into you first, right?"

"Alright."

"And then some better-fitting clothes. I can make you something in any colour you like. What's your favourite colour, Tesamu?"

A timely silence passed.

"…I don't know."

"That's ok. Have a think on it. Think of what your favourite colour is. Take all the time you need…"

Tesamu laid his head upon his chest, feeling the man's steadying heartbeat lull him into a false sense of security. He let himself succumb. He simpered faintly. When he looked up, the traitor's smile broadened. How could such warm hands have deprived so many of their lives?

Frankenstein,

Frankenstein,

That name had stuck with him, drilling into where he didn't need to think anymore — just know, just feel — and that name echoed up within like a reverse prayer, a curse word, something he thought of every time those white-clad men sent a swift smack on his neck, a quick jab behind the knee;

Don't forget your mission.

This was what he was trained for. He held it close to him, but when the name came to him now,

Frankenstein,

Tesamu thought, it didn't match the face of the man carrying him with all the care, all the tentativeness he could only ever equate with his mother. Or his village, or all the things far, far away from the battleground. He learnt to trust the traitor. And that he wasn't very good at betraying people.

But him?

Oh.


Tesamu, I give over to you, the vast information needed for you to complete your studies, and further your path in the changing world. Use it wisely, and let your good sense guide you.

46.2000° N, 6.1500° E

I love you, dearly, Tesamu,

Frankenstein.


Another memory, less distant:

He remembered the harsh clasp of hand on his shoulder, the way nails dug into skin through the fabric of his thin clothes and the hard, warning squeeze as they finally let go.

"Good morning, forgive us for summoning you so early today."

He'd grown up now; he was smarter, he was stronger, better at lying than ever before. Yet still so scared and so powerless. He'd long memorised his lifeline, and he remembered reciting it in his head like a mantra.

Forty six point two, zero, zero, zero degrees north; six point one, five, zero, zero degrees east…

Tesamu had so badly wanted to keep the Professor's handwritten note tucked under the pillow of his cot, hidden in the folds of his clothes, or wedged into the crack of his wall. But it was all too risky. He'd burnt it the second he could recite it forwards, backwards, when skipping every other number.

…Forty six point two, zero, zero, zero degrees north; six point one, five, zero, zero degrees east…

"Give us your necklace, Tesamu."

Those words stirred nothing from him. Not a rise of his brow or a twitch of his skin or catch of his breath. But his mother's words sounded in the back of his mind to Run, Tesamu. He blinked once and said nothing. Tesamu undid the first button of his shirt, taking off the worthless necklace. He tried not to hold it like a treasure. Tesamu willingly gave it up without a fight, without another thought, without another word or any shred of pathetic dignity left to cling his teeth on.

"Here, Sir."

"Thank you."

"May I ask how that necklace may be of service to the Union, Sir?" The words slipped out of his mouth against his sense of self preservation. He regret it immediately.

White-clad soldiers shuffled uncomfortably. The guard behind him put a heavy hand on his shoulder. Tesamu didn't even flinch when he felt it. "Is it your place to ask questions? Don't try to-"

"—Tesamu-dear! Of course you may ask," the Union official smiled. The hand lifted from his shoulder. "The traitor, Frankenstein, is still alive in Lukedonia."

Tesamu felt like his heart might have skipped a beat. His throat clenched. He could only hope they didn't notice. Tesamu didn't nod his head.

"And we believe this will be the key to his downfall. How dreary he's still a nuisance. You've done your mission so well, Tesamu. None of us expected him to be able to survive in Lukedonia. This necklace will be handed over to the nobles." Tesamu watched him thumb over the chipped pendant. "It's quite humorous, I must say. He makes enemies wherever he goes. The nobles were more than glad to destroy him for us." The man smiled again, furrowing his brows. He thought he was happy. He thought he ought to be happy. This was all a result of his work.

Tesamu smiled back.

Nobles would touch his mother's necklace. The Professor would be tricked. Tesamu's eyes flitted onto the worthless piece of obsidian ore on the necklace. He didn't imagine his mother's voice.

Inside, he was screaming.


In the end:

He stepped into the open. He was a top asset to the Union and he'd planned for this escapade for years. A waterfall poured from the rocks from many metres up high. It churned the white waters below, making it swirl and splash, sending up a mist-like spray to waft over him.

Tesamu recited the co-ordinates. He looked at his compass. He peered over the map.

…This was it.

This was what the Professor had left him.

A waterfall?

Tesamu stood there for a moment, watching the curtain of water split as it tumbled down the falls. Water tickled over his nose. Where could a bunker be hidden under here? The soil was damp, the gravel was loose and the waterfall would obstruct everything. He sat down, scratching a sharpened piece of charcoal over the map again.

46.2000° N, 6.1500° E

The charcoal intersected right before him. Right over the waterfall.

Tesamu kicked off his shoes. No way, Professor. He trekked towards the falls, taking note of how hard it was to find this place and how isolated it was. The distance between the out-jutting path of rock and the glassy cascade of the waterfall was perhaps half a metre wide. Just enough to walk through to the centre without getting crushed. Tesamu side-stepped against the cliff, reaching a little hollow behind the middle of the falls. It was a tiny space.

Tesamu, I give over to you, the vast information needed for you to complete your studies, and further your path in the changing world.

He looked around the rocky walls. One particular indentation loomed from the side. Exactly like the one installed in the underground bunker, the one Tesamu used to get to his and the Professor's rooms. He didn't see it at first. It was placed too low in comparison to his height, now. Tesamu smiled sadly. He tugged on the familiar contraption, opening the up the wall behind the waterfall. He expected nothing less of the Professor. A spiral staircase fed into the dark, but the moment the stone steps finished shifting into position, lights flickered on.

Tesamu ambled down the steps. Just like the bunker, his footsteps echoed across the grounds, summoning up a ghostly mirage that could only be heard and not seen. But it wasn't like the labyrinth. He reached the end of the tight space, stepping into the open. He opened his mouth without making a sound. Behind the waterfall was a series of gouged out hollows, some part of the natural cavern system, but some were too straight and perfect, obviously constructed so that the platforms spaced out in the large expanse could support the weight. Rock and stone were weathered into smooth, luxurious-looking constructions, and Tesamu could make out a few walls or shelves carved out of limestones and gypsum. Even the bedding planes and faults of the area he was standing in were fashioned into something like exquisitely cut stone, fit for something grand, like a court of a King.

Long columns stretched from the floor to the peak, securing different jut-outs and levels of platforms over the caverns. Amidst the high ceiling, hanging lights were strung up between the bumpy extensions of stalagmites and other rough cave formations, and Tesamu wondered how it was possible to harness electricity in a place like this. How to etch into stone and create a palace.

How to give up your life's work for a child who'd betrayed you.

I love you, dearly, Tesamu,

Frankenstein.

Over the patterns of flow-stones and natural columns, the rock was purposefully shaped into shelves. Across every platform, across every over-hanging stage and rocky cliff, were shelves, and shelves of books. The vast expanse of the cavern system were stacked to brim and overflowing with information.

An entire library.

The Professor's mind was laid out right before him. Tesamu spent an age in there, lounging over a furnished sitting area and inspecting the different makes of microscopes, reading the neat labels on each glass jar and pouring himself over scrolls, and books, and theories, and hypothesises. When he paused for a moment, on the third level overlooking the bottom ring, paved over with damp floorboards, Tesamu sat back. He stared at the numbered files, stared at the page of human experimentation he had out: maintaining cell structure when fusing foreign energies — attempt 142.

Water dropped onto the page, but he didn't look to the stalagmites above. Tesamu stared at everything around him and cried.

He cried, and his sobs echoed off in the distance only to return to him louder and more wobbly than when it left him; he cried until he didn't have a tear left to shed. He huffed, alone in the open space, chest still churning and tugging at stupid things he ought not to think about, non-existent things; like ever seeing the Professor again, or ever fixing the world like the Professor had always wanted.

Frankenstein had dared envisage a world where humans could be free of nobles. A world with no mutants or infected and vampires plaguing the earth, causing death and disease. And for that, he was taken. Taken, and turned into a prisoner of the very nobles he'd sought to destroy. The Union had celebrated his capture. The Union hoped he would be dead within the week.

Tesamu picked himself up, brushing his cold tears off the precious pages. The Union was powerful, but with this trove of information, Tesamu would be more powerful than they could ever be. He had all the Professor's experiments and powers right at his fingertips. And he was going to use it to become like him. He'll save as many lives as he can by ridding the world of nobles.

Use it wisely, and let your good sense guide you.

So long as the Professor was still alive, he could be saved. He had to save the Professor.


Notes

The languages I google-translated in order - French, Dutch, Finnish, Italian, German, Latin.

So it turns out, I put "Tesamu" into google translate and it said that it was from Estonia. So now Tesamu is pre-medieval Estonian (from the Baltic region of Northern Europe). I get that there's no possible way there was a random waterfall where the co ordinates are, but shhhhhh. Shhh. I wrote it before I figured out where it should be because I wanted one and I'm not changing.

There's going to be a a bit of a hiatus until mid-to-late-January. Thank you for all your support and kind words. You guys have no idea how much it helped me get through things. Merry Christmas! :D

- nobody yet - Yeeaah Franken's back! I'm thinking of that quote someone said, that most villains, 'think they are the hero.'

- general zargon - Thanks! He's totally a hypocrite. He honestly thinks he's fighting the good fight, but why? Are you still with the Union? Tesamu?

- Elims - I hope it was a good cry! Enjoy

- Guest - There's actually more to Tesamu than what's given even in this chapter XD But it'll all be revealed in due time. Remember, Rai's on the way to get revenge ;D

- manjakvendi - I already said yes but I literally can't wait!

Happy Holidays everybody~

- earl