On the Edge of the Abyss: The Outcasts: A Shared Life, A Shared Love
Chapter 2 – Come Scientist, Destroy!
"Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves." Confucius
Nine Years Ago…
The Creature, for he had no name, trotted along an ice sheet. He had turned south from the pole, finding he did not like seeing the bleak of the ice, snow, and hellishly cold wind that drove the snow so much it could blind a person. He had fashioned a mask with thin slits as he had seen the native people wearing. He had also stolen a seal skinned garment.
Though he felt the chill less than his pursuer, he well knew that if he did not find shelter soon, the limited sun would drop down and the temperature would drop below zero, freezing skin instantly with the wind chill.
He looked behind him, Frankenstein was still walking behind him, moving as though, if he were to stop, he would stop moving all together. Hatred drove the man, which confounded the Creature who only sought the love that he felt he should have as the "son" of this man, his creation, whose intelligence and skills would make any father proud, surely.
The sun ducked behind the nearby mountain and the Creature moved to make a snow cave for himself. Frankenstein didn't seem to notice as he continued to move. The Creature watched him curiously. The man moved onwards, at his slow pace, not stopping.
So it had been the last week, but the Creature's count. Frankenstein had not stopped to rest. His body would force him soon and the Creature hoped he was nearby when that happened so he could make sure the fool survived the journey. The Creature planned to go back to Switzerland and leave Frankenstein among his people. The man was not long for this world if he continued so and though it was hard for Frankenstein to understand, his Creature did care about his welfare, despite it all; the broken promises, the malice, and the driving hatred, that like the snow that now blew about them was unending and unyielding.
The snow abated by the next morning. The Creature stirred and moved, punching a hole in his snow cave and trudging out into the crisp air. It was cold yet even as the light had not come over the mountains. Everything was fresh and new. The sky was lightening by the moment. The fresh powder was glistening in the new day dawning light like thousands of crystals. It was beautiful and the Creature took it in for a few moments.
He then walked, spending most of the morning walking until he came upon Frankenstein's sled. He looked up and then moved about it looking for his creator. The man surely had made shelter as the night grew so cold that even the Creature had felt the chill.
He found him. Frankenstein was sleeping. The Creature touched his throat gently and could feel the steady heartbeat as he lay on the lee side of the sled. His eyes opened, looking up at the Creature who was squatting beside him with seal meat for him. He narrowed his eyes, but took the meat anyway, chewing the frozen strips that offered a good amount of protein and fat content.
Frankenstein watched as the Creature squatted nearby eating some of the meat himself. He then shifted and groaned as his muscles did not wish to obey due to stiffness and exertion.
The Creature smiled and rose to his feet. "Up…Up! It's morning. Come Scien-tist! Come destroy me! Fight on!" He said looking down at his creator as the light of the new day warmed his back.
Frankenstein lifted his body upwards. He was cold. Frostbite was setting into his cheeks, nose, and feet, and yet he had to press onwards. He glared up at the Creature as he straightened, defiantly, pulling himself upright on his feet. He had a full beard now that was wild and unkempt.
"Good boy!" The Creature smiled moving as his own joints cracked as the seal fur covered man started to move, commanding his sore, cold body to move forward, inch by inch, closer to the Creature to destroy the miserable life he had created. The Creature moved ahead of his creator, walking on the snow, his large feet left large footprints in the snow, which Frankenstein avoided as he pulled his sled along.
For weeks the pair had moved so, mile after mile, but then the Creature became tired of the game. He turned south, going through the low passes of the Urals, down through Prussia, to Saxony, to Bavaria, to the Alps, until at last he stood on the shores of the lake in Switzerland he knew well. It nearing sunset and Lake Geneva was beautiful.
Frankenstein stood a few meters away, looking at the lake and town in which he had been born. He lowered his cowl, looking at the sunset, turning the lake from blue to molten gold. It was beautiful. Why had he every left?
The Creature smiled. He knew that Frankenstein would no longer follow him. He needed rest. Contrary to what the scientist thought, the Creature did care for his welfare. He moved away as some villagers took notice of the man by the lakeshore, watching mutely, moved to tears at the beauty of what had been home before his mother had died of scarlet fever.
The Creature smiled. Perhaps he was not free and could now live as he wanted to, at least in part. He would never be part of society, but perhaps he could make a difference, even on the outskirts. Help others has he had DeLacey's son and beautiful daughter-in-law. He had moved many stones from the field so they could plant. They had been very thankful until they saw him. Society may never accept him, but perhaps he could be good and be spoken about like they had, as a good creature of the woods. Perhaps that would be enough.
He sighed.
He was so lonely. No one understood him. The only person who had tried had been Elizabeth, the wife of Frankenstein, whom the Creature had spoken with and surprised her with his intelligence and he had moved her with his plight. She had spoken to him as another human not as an object, but he had broken his promise to her, to do her no harm, raping and killing her in revenge for Frankenstein killing and butchering his own mate after promising his creation that he would allow him a chance at happiness.
The Creature regretted killing Elizabeth. He had become a man that night, feeling her fearful writhing body beneath him as she tried to make him stop, even as he pressed himself into her, taking what Frankenstein had not, her maidenhead, though in violence, something he still had tears, even now over. She had not deserved to be treated so and Frankenstein did not deserve her kind heart. Frankenstein had come and watched in horror, unable to stop it even as she cried out and reached for him. The Creature and nuzzled her after, trying to comfort her, but then he had seen the look on Frankenstein's face and knew he had won.
The Creature had snapped her neck, killing her instantly, not wanting the horrid man to have something so pure, innocent, and beautiful of body and mind. He had tried to pull her clothing back caressing her hair as though she were a child, a loving gesture. He then wanted Frankenstein to kill him.
Even then Frankenstein could not bring himself to kill his creation and the Creature had escaped. The Creature had a similar problem. He could not bring himself to kill Frankenstein as much as he wished to in his heart. Frankenstein was his father and he loved him, in his own fashion, though he longed to be free of him as well.
The Creature continued leaving Frankenstein to do as he willed, the villagers leading him away to the place of his birth. The others would look after him and make sure he rested and had food and drink. He had lost much weight and become gaunt, skin hanging on bones from his once handsome features, in the months the Creature and he had had their merry dance around the pole.
The Creature had hunted seals and learned from the natives how to use the oil for light and for heat at night as well as the meat to eat. He even shared with Frankenstein whose food stores had long run out and he had been too weak to hunt on his own.
The Creature now traveled through France finding the French worse than the Swiss in their disgust of him if they saw him. He continued into the next mountain range and into Spain. There he found green fields, beautiful country homes, and a slightly warmer climate than he had experienced in months. He was able to keep from view and yet watch the people go about their daily lives. They were charming, sweet, and seemed to be about community.
He listened at night to the people in their homes. These were the Basque people of the hills. They were also looked down upon as he was by the Spanish and the French as he watched soldiers harassing Basque men and women as they went about their lives in the villages. Perhaps these people would accept him when no others would.
He was so lonely and longed for a kind word. Just a companion, male or female to talk and discuss the books he had in his satchel, the air, nature, or even just cause him to smile once in his life time. A soft kind word in his direction would make him feel whole. Oh, how he longed to be something, anything within society. A mater was farfetched now that Frankenstein had burned his journal with all its secrets that had been the key to the life after death that the Creature was. He would never be handsome to look upon, covered in sutures and bruising, but perhaps someone would realize his utility in strength or better still, his mind.
He sighed and moved off as the lights from the house dimmed as candles were put out. He had been watching and listening. The mother and father had been busy trying for another child to add to their brood as they rocked together crying out in pleasure. It was fascinating for the Creature who watched from the window. The man would start by kissing her and she would then yield to his advance. Soon clothing was removed and the man kissed his wife everywhere. That would lead to other activities. The wife was more than willing, unlike Elizabeth. Then after their interesting noises they would calm and speak softly, looking at each other in a way that the Creature longed for.
That was love.
True love. Something he wanted to know and have.
For now the Creature was again alone in the night. He walked into the woods. He sighed and relaxed as he moved under a tree, a favorite spot he had discovered. He could recline well in it and sleep in the warm air. Perhaps it was his lot to be alone.
His fate.
However, he could shape fate and he meant to.