A/N Thanks so much to my reviewers irene, megumisakura, and micaela. I usually update on the weekends, Welcome to Chapter 2….
"I expected this reception," said the demon. "All men hate the wretched; how, then, must I be hated, who am miserable beyond all living things!" Frankenstein-Chapter 10.
The Demon
I refused to leave. They check my wife once again, and hastily withdraw, leaving to let me bolt the door behind them.
In the sounds of the rain drumming on the roof, I listen for her breathing. It is strange to take comfort from something so small. I daren't get my hopes up yet. She has surpassed Astrid at this point. And I will not hurry her away until I know for certain that she is healthy enough to leave. Victor tells me we still must watch for infections, complications.
He is stalling me, I know. He fears what will happen if this wife of mine rejects me. I promised him a wife for a wife. If he fashions a mate for me, his own Elisabeth would be allowed to live. I have sworn to take my mate and go to the farthest corner of the earth never again be seen by any man.
At first he threatened me, but I left him a reminder of my abilities. While his second man slept like this, I stole in under their noses, and with a quick twist, broke his neck. It served two of my purposes: it changed the course of his work to providing me a woman, and it removed the replacement he had in store for me. No doubt, a less strong and independent version he could parade before colleagues.
She moves her head; I stepped forward to check on her. My hand has a will of its own; I trace her cheek with my knuckles. "Therese," I say gently. Her eyes turn to me. She blinks and I want nothing more than for her to speak, to prove that there is a living person in these wrappings. Her brows knit and she licks her lips.
I go to the table, and retrieve a small cup, bringing water back for her. I gently lift her head, bringing the cup to her lips and let some of the water slide into her mouth. She closes her lips, and a drop pours down her chin. I wipe it with a bit of the end of the gauze that encases her. "Do you want more?" I ask. Her lips move, but no sound comes. I lean down further towards her, but only her breath tickles my ear.
I repeat my ministrations, and finally she seems sated. A small shiver runs through her. I curse Victor and Curt both for leaving her on the cold metal table. I remember how my body heat seeped away as I lay like this my first night. I look around and pull down some material that is used to curtain off an alcove. I settle it over her, tucking it in along the contours of her body to capture the heat.
Her eyes close, and her breathing returns to the gentle intake of breathe as she sleeps. I stand next to the table, my hand holding hers until I can stand no more. Dawn will find me sleeping on the floor next to the table.
Therese
I am thirsty again. My tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth and my lips feel chapped. So dry, perhaps the fire burned it out of me. I see a roof over me. A face hovers near, I cannot remember this face, but the voice tells me that there will be some discomfort.
The face disappears suddenly, as an arm sweeps in front of it. Standing there now is another man. Dark hair trails around his face, like a long curtain it hides part of his visage from me. He pulls something off of me, and I am cold. A noise comes out of my throat and he leans close to me. I recognize his voice as well. I close my eyes. I float in darkness and pain.
The Demon
I stand at the head of the table. Curt removes the bandages from her head. Along either temple trails the wire that Victor has inserted into her brain. He takes several sharp instruments out of a bag and lays them on one of the discarded strips of gauze.
They lift her head and set it down on a block of wood. He starts the incision, and I reach out to cradle her head as he cuts through the surrounding scalp. Her blood runs down to my fingers, it drips on the table. Victor works slowly, and smoothly the coil pulls out with a soft sucking sound.
Her scalp will heal around the singed skin. She will have a headache that will make her feel ill at her stomach for at least three days, lights kept dim around her will help. Her muscles will ache and cramp suddenly for no reason. Victor learned to tie our hands around a piece of wood, or she would have cut through her palms with her own fingernails as I did. Her jaws may be stiff from the force of her muscles clamping downward on the bit that was in her mouth.
She makes no noise as he pulls out the second coil. I relinquish my hold on her grudgingly so that they can cover her scalp. She will be taken across the gardens to Victor's sanitarium. I have agreed to give her to him for three days. At the end of those days, she will come to me.
Therese
Arms hold me. Is it you Papa? I am like a child again, small, held close to a warm strong body. My head rests near a shoulder, and I can feel him look down at me, his breathe warm in my hair. I feel the descent as he places me on the bed, he is careful to cradle my head.
My fingers feel the sheets below me. I shiver again. Why am I so cold? A large hand rests on my stomach, the warmth seeps through the material on my body.
The first voice again, "We'll have one of the maids clean her up. She'll take the wrapping off."
The second voice, it sounds angry, "No one touches her."
"You know you can't stay here," the first voice says, "the staff can't see you. Wait in the stable. She'll be looked after. She probably won't even be coherent until tomorrow."
It's all I remember for several days.
Victor
She has slept the clock around. At first I worried, but she seems a little more curious of her surroundings today. I am thankful, because my every waking moment I feel the Demon's eyes on the sanitarium. He waits in the loft of the stable, but I can feel his breath on my neck. I tire of this game we engage in.
He promises to leave us in peace, Elisabeth and I. If this girl does not please him, the only peace I may find is death. Knowing my enemy as I do, Curt and I have made plans to deal with his unhappiness.
Another day goes by, and now she is sitting up. She has eaten, and the staff has helped her bathe and dress her hair. I've told them she was found along a road. As of yet, she has not spoken a word.
Making my rounds at the end of the day, I check on her. She is awake and looking out the window. Do you see him, my dear? Does he call to you somehow? I tell her we are going for a short walk. Curt comes in with a wheel chair and we take her to the laboratory I had built out of the old abbey ruins on the property.
The Demon
I pace the loft, watching as they move her to the abbey. It is time to meet her now that she is awake. I take one bound and land on the ground. My legs cover the distance quickly, and I watch as Curt pushes the chair through the door. My heart pounds, a lump in my throat. I must not hold too much hope yet.
Coming in, I am at her back. Victor is shining a light into her ears, and then her eyes. He gives her commands and she obeys. Finally he says, "Therese, how old are you?"
She looks at him, but does not speak. On some unseen command, Curt drops something, and it makes a clattering noise. She turns quickly in the direction of the noise. Victor makes an open handed gesture. "She hears, she sees, but she does not speak."
The silence around us is suddenly ominous. I know the two men are afraid for their lives, but I have been diligent in schooling my temper. Victor is the only one capable of creating a mate for me, someone who has known the death and resurrection as I have.
I walk slowly to her side, and look down at her. "Therese, can you speak?" She turns to me and opens her mouth, but nothing comes forth.
"Mute. I did not think she was mute." Victor says.
I wave impatiently, "She isn't mute. Her lips form words, she knows how to speak." I am surprised at my own insight, or is it just my hope?
Victor has stepped aside, watching me. He is rigid with fear. I stand beside her chair and there is a sudden explosion, a force slams into my back, and I feel a pressure in my chest. A spray of blood and bits of my shirt float in the air in front of me.
I spin and back fist Victor, he drops like a stone. Curt stands by the only door, a shotgun in his hands, he fumbles to pull back the trigger on the second barrel. I feel the blood in my lungs bubbling from the damage to my chest. Fool that he is he missed my heart.
Blood courses up my throat, and I spit it from my lips. The searing in my chest threatens to rob me of consciousness, desperate, I shove Curt. His body crumples around my fist as I punch, taking the brunt of the force, but hits the door flinging it open. I step over him and run, clutching my ribs as if my hands can hold my body together.
The guard dogs are barking form the noise of the shotgun; they will be released after me. My shirt is wet with my blood. I tear it off and fling it down. If I make it to the lake, I will rid myself of the clothes, and dogs cannot follow the scent of my blood if I go along the water.
I crawl to one of the caves in the mountains above the lake. It seems like days since the blast tore my back and chest open. I gasp for breathe around the pain that rakes claws of agony through me, blood froths in my mouth. I feel dizzy from the loss of blood, and sad. I do not want to die yet. I want to see my wife. I want to kill Victor.
Victor
The fiend has gotten away again. Our ineptitude with the weapon and our resolve to be rid of him without alerting others caused us to make hasty plans to entrap him. He has done me one service; Curt is dead. He was the last witness to the experiments.
Astrid and Therese are the only creatures that remain in my charge. The creature's rejection of Astrid bought me time to forestall his request for a companion. I had built Astrid as I had fashioned the men, from corpses, taking the choicest parts. Although, in her case I did not take the time to rebuild her body as I had the Demon's, enhancing him beyond the limits of God's design for our flesh.
I did bring about one important modification. I removed the organs necessary for her to reproduce. While I worked over her, my mind filled with the thoughts of the soulless children which might come form their union. I began to see my years of sacrifice and indefatigable work had taken a toll on my reasoning. I should have taken his procreative abilities away as well. I never intended for him to be anything beyond an animated example of my genius, a living textbook from which others would understand the level of science I had achieved.
Therese is an altogether different creature. The fiend found her and exhumed her the night her Father and Mother committed her to the earth. Bringing her forthwith, he demanded I resurrect her. Other than the reparation of her wound, and the days spent waiting for the storm, she was untouched. The Demon kept a vigil over her, leaving me no time to reduce her to a barren state. With this in mind, Curt and I could see the implications of the world of men realizing I had let loose the creature with a fecund mate to propagate another race.
I plan to keep both of the women once I destroy the Demon. Therese will be an example of my discoveries. Astrid has other uses. She was designed to satisfy passions, and as such, serves mine.
She doesn't have the presence of mind to tell Elisabeth of our trysts. Although I love Elisabeth, after the birth of our second child, she has been more reserved in bed. The woman who hungrily moved under me, begging for me to take her, is now a cool, compliant body. Our love play went from long hours of rapture, to a boring routine that only serves to make me frustrated.
Astride has become the vessel of my lust. I bring her some trinket to distract her, then start using her for what I intended her for. I spend the last hour of my rounds in the sanitarium savoring the anticipation, I will find my way to her room, and take her, swiftly and thoughtlessly.
At times, I've even found my way back late at night while the staff sleeps. She lies in a pool of silk, and I jerk the covers off of the bed. I kneel over her, opening my robe, and use her once again.
Therese
My mind is like a waking dream. Confusing voices and images, lost moments colliding with what is going on around me.
I dreamt last night of a man, his hand brushing my face. His touch so gentle, it brought tears to my eyes. I awoke restless. The room was warm, and the curtains billowed inward. I had kicked the covers off of my legs, and my nightdress was up around my knees. I rolled onto my back, listening for that voice that had spoken my name.
I ran a hand up and down my calf. I have awoken numerous times to a cramp that I must rub to make the muscles release. Victor has given me something to drink which soothes the muscles during the day, but he forgets about the night.
Once I awoke with my hand on my stomach. Just under my ribs, I feel a large scar. It is straight and ends in irregular small lumps. My hand clutches, my breathing quickens, and I remember blood. Is this why I am here?
I lay shuddering, alone, but wanting desperately to feel warm flesh beside me. I fall asleep longing for the voice.
Victor
Therese is becoming more animated, although she still refuses to speak. Her knowing eyes follow people. I doubt there is anything that she does not see or understand. I only wonder at why she remains stubbornly mute. She cried out on the table, and as the Demon said, her lips form words.
The staff wonders why no family has come forth to claim her, and I put them off telling them I have sent letters far and wide, which I haven't. She wears some of Elisabeth's cast off gowns, and doesn't mind wearing the clothes of the maids. With that thought in mind, I let her dress as one and have her start making the rounds and taking care of the other patients. She approaches her work cheerfully in her silence.
Three months after her rebirth an acquaintance of mine, Edgar Ragache brings me a new patient. Edgar's cousin, Thomas Wetherden was visiting from England and was injured in a riding accident. Paralyzed, he hopes to regain some of his feeling if not his mobility. Ragache knows that such cases have intrigued me. I take on the boy's case with an eye for a distraction to my problem of Therese.
Therese
A new patient has arrived in a wheelchair. He seems pleasant but sad as he sits in the conservatory chatting with Frankenstein. There was an accidental fall from a horse, and now his legs no longer support him.
I had worked the shift for one of the nurses who instructed me it was time for the young man's bath. Taking a basin, and some towels, I knocked softly and entered. He was on the bed, gazing at the window. He has brown hair and eyes, and has a wonderful smile.
I do not speak, but waited for him to turn to me. I smiled and made a motion with my hands indicating the basin. He looked briefly embarrassed but nodded, "It is awfully hot in here. Could you open the window?"
I opened the window and returned to him, drawing down the sheets and began sponging his skin. He started talking to me, staring up at the ceiling. His name was Thomas, and he had been visiting cousins in France when the accident occurred. He continued on, and I drew the sheets lower, nodding as I worked to show him that I wasn't simple, I did listen, I just didn't choose to speak yet.
I feel sadness for him. He cannot yet be thirty years, his family is moneyed, and his whole future was mapped out. A shying horse and a short fall take away everything he had hoped for in his life. He has lost his control of his mobility, and as yet has not experienced any stimulus that would indicate his ability to experience sexual gratifications.
Despite all this, he seems to be adjusting to life here. His cousin Edgar Ragache is a friend of Victor's, and believes that if anyone can precipitate a return to normalcy for Thomas, it is Victor.
