A Captive of Hope
By Abigail Weiss
The trial had not gone well.
He was bound to a post atop a precipice; a storm enveloped him. His clothes had been torn from his body by furious wind; his flesh numbed from the continuous pounding of freezing rain. He had expected peace in death, an escape from the misery life had been. When his eyes opened after his final goodbye to dearest Walden, he found himself amid a great storm; the wind's moan and the great crashes of the thunder were so terrifying he felt as though the heavens themselves were letting out their fury; punishing him for his regrettable existence. He did not notice that his wrists bled from his bonds, for the rain and hail tore his flesh, reducing his human features to a mass of flesh and blood.
The voices were relentless with their interrogation. It seemed they knew every moment of his life. Finally, after hours of pointless questioning, a soft voice spoke in a snake's sarcastic whisper, delivering the pivotal question. And who is to blame for the murders of your dearest loved ones, Dr. Frankenstein? "I am to blame!" Frankenstein cried, pulling against his bounds and thrusting his body forward. His face twisted in tangled emotion, "I killed them! I led myself astray with foolish dreams of power and greatness. I fancied myself a Modern Prometheus, to be the architect of a new race, to be their beloved creator. But I fooled myself. I was young, and hasty. I flew forward without thought. And.and I killed them! I killed myself! I beg you, give me peace! Let me escape from this misery! I want no paradise, only peace. Please, I beg you.I beg you." His body went limp, sliding down into the mud. The storm receded; he waited without any knowledge of the world around him.
He knew not how much time passed before the storm renewed its fury, but the almighties finally returned with the verdict.
A strong, commanding voice was to give the verdict. "You fancied yourself a Modern Prometheus, Dr. Frankenstein? You wanted to be the beloved creator of a new race? REPENT, VICTOR!! FOR I AM YOUR CREATOR! I FORMED MANKIND!!! And you, you are a living heap of clay that is at my disposal. You were right though; you fooled yourself. And for that you will repent. Oh yes, you will repent every day of your miserable existence. I HAVE MADE MY JUDGEMENT, VICTOR FRANKENSTEIN!!! YOU WILL SUFFER A LIFETIME IN HELL!! Yes, Frankenstein, a lifetime. One hundred years. For hope will be your captor, hope will lead you through every wretched day, and keep you from falling into despondency.as they all do. HOPE IS YOUR FATE! GOODBYE VICTOR FRANKENSTEIN!"
The trial had not gone well.
He was bound to a post atop a precipice; a storm enveloped him. His clothes had been torn from his body by furious wind; his flesh numbed from the continuous pounding of freezing rain. He had expected peace in death, an escape from the misery life had been. When his eyes opened after his final goodbye to dearest Walden, he found himself amid a great storm; the wind's moan and the great crashes of the thunder were so terrifying he felt as though the heavens themselves were letting out their fury; punishing him for his regrettable existence. He did not notice that his wrists bled from his bonds, for the rain and hail tore his flesh, reducing his human features to a mass of flesh and blood.
The voices were relentless with their interrogation. It seemed they knew every moment of his life. Finally, after hours of pointless questioning, a soft voice spoke in a snake's sarcastic whisper, delivering the pivotal question. And who is to blame for the murders of your dearest loved ones, Dr. Frankenstein? "I am to blame!" Frankenstein cried, pulling against his bounds and thrusting his body forward. His face twisted in tangled emotion, "I killed them! I led myself astray with foolish dreams of power and greatness. I fancied myself a Modern Prometheus, to be the architect of a new race, to be their beloved creator. But I fooled myself. I was young, and hasty. I flew forward without thought. And.and I killed them! I killed myself! I beg you, give me peace! Let me escape from this misery! I want no paradise, only peace. Please, I beg you.I beg you." His body went limp, sliding down into the mud. The storm receded; he waited without any knowledge of the world around him.
He knew not how much time passed before the storm renewed its fury, but the almighties finally returned with the verdict.
A strong, commanding voice was to give the verdict. "You fancied yourself a Modern Prometheus, Dr. Frankenstein? You wanted to be the beloved creator of a new race? REPENT, VICTOR!! FOR I AM YOUR CREATOR! I FORMED MANKIND!!! And you, you are a living heap of clay that is at my disposal. You were right though; you fooled yourself. And for that you will repent. Oh yes, you will repent every day of your miserable existence. I HAVE MADE MY JUDGEMENT, VICTOR FRANKENSTEIN!!! YOU WILL SUFFER A LIFETIME IN HELL!! Yes, Frankenstein, a lifetime. One hundred years. For hope will be your captor, hope will lead you through every wretched day, and keep you from falling into despondency.as they all do. HOPE IS YOUR FATE! GOODBYE VICTOR FRANKENSTEIN!"