. . .
It had been some time since dinner, when Elsa left the former dining room after helping Maleva the Gypsey clear the tables. The shipment of frozen liver and canned vegetables had been a small comfort amongst these dreary ruins. Cooking it over a fire and heating up the vegetables had been easy. Elsa had even managed to find a supply of soap, along with other various toiletries, that had fallen in the sinkhole near the ice cavern. They still had to boil their water, as the majority of the plumbing was no longer operable; only a basin sink still had running water in the laboratory's secret basement.
Dr. Mannering had returned to the laboratory to complete the test runs on the electrical generators, while Larry had disappeared somewhere within the dark catacombs of the chateau. But even in this demolished hellhole, the baroness felt a strange and familiar feeling of being home.
This used to be her home. This room she was temporarily inhabiting was once a guest room. Somehow, it had managed to survive the massive fire that had raged throughout the building, causing the second and third floors to partially collapse in on the structure's rubble foundations.
Her own room was destroyed, and so was most of the library and attic; the laboratory and its adjacent sanitarium were also badly damaged, but still kept most of its stone walls intact. About a fourth of its ceiling had caved in, while the electrical machinery had retained some serious damage but could still be repaired. Elsa never thought that she would see this place again. After what that happened here...
Only a heavy storm had somehow put the fire out. Vasaria's fire service wasn't going to decimate the merciless flames as they shared in a bitter resentment with the other villagers: they had been betrayed by one of their best, upstanding citizens. So, let it burn.
The evening's chilly draft suddenly crept through the room, and Elsa instinctively wrapped her arms around herself. There was a burlap drape nailed over the broken window, but little good that was doing her.
She briefly considered returning to the village inn. There was really no reason to stay here, except to assist and his troubled patient with their novel experiment. But with the villagers taking their virulent rage and paranoia out on her, it was beginning to sound like a bad idea.
A part of her couldn't blame them. They had all gone through a horrifying and traumatic experience brought on by her grandfather's hated creation. Her own father had furtively become involved with the Monster and in the end, it had cost him his life. And even though Elsa was now Mrs. Erik Ernst, to the villagers, she would always be a Frankenstein. Her title of Baroness still carried the name.
Erik...
At times, Elsa found herself missing the ruggedly handsome prosecutor. She longed to leave this dreaded place and be back with him in the city of Bonn; he would have accompanied her on this excursion, except he fell ill with influenza. He needed to recuperate. Of course, he was worried when she told him about returning to their old village on personal business.
But she assured him that Vasaria's mayor would see she had a brief, comfortable stay. But how would she be able to tell Erik about the devastating truth she had discovered? That the Monster was alive?
She decided to go see if Maleva wanted some company. Although Elsa first regarded the Gypsy woman with suspicion, she had proven to be somewhat of a strange, comforting presence in these unsettling ruins. It was clear the old woman wanted to help her and Dr. Mannering destroy the Monster; her sincere, yet wise and stern nature was enough to win over them over. Elsa exited the room, but as she did, an abject fear suddenly arose within her.
What if I encounter It?
No doubt, the Monster was lurking around here; it was the last thing she wanted to bump into along these shady corridors. There was not a day that went by that Elsa wished that malevolent creature dead.
Maybe if she met Dr. Mannering or Larry Talbot first, they could escort her to the den, where Maleva was keeping a toasty hearth going. Shuddering a breath, Elsa trudged forward while saying a prayer. It was foolish to be left alone with such a vile, threatening presence in this place.
To her relief, she reached the last hall without any trouble. She could already see the flickering light from the fire pouring out from the den's entrance. Larry was there earlier but had returned to his quarters for some rest. Elsa wondered about the mystery surrounding the troubled Welsh man.
Indeed, it was an intriguing case. He was suffering from a strange affliction - one that physically altered his features and mental state. Dr. Mannering had told her that he was a lycanthrope: the curse of the werewolf.
But the most astonishing part of it was that the curse also made him immortal. The traditional method for killing a werewolf, such as with a weapon fashioned from silver, had absolutely no effect on him. But Larry didn't want to live. At first, Elsa thought he was insane for believing that he was the victim of a superstitious tale.
Maybe he was. Although Maleva was very adamant about her belief in it, and to Elsa, the old Gypsey seemed too intelligent to believe in such trifle folklore. Elsa really didn't get that part. Why did Maleva think the curse was real? As Elsa wondered if they would be able to help Larry, she stepped into the den...and froze. Maleva was there alright - but so was the Monster.
The Gypsy looked up. "Good evening, Elsa."
Elsa was too startled to answer for a moment. As if Divine Will intervened, she managed a nod.
"Did you need anything, my dear?" Maleva asked.
"Uh no...I..." her eyes averted to a couple of liquor bottles and glasses on a table. "I was just-going to get some Bourbon."
She hastily walked over to the table and began gathering a bottle and a glass. Maleva's sharp attention was averted when the Monster spoke.
"It doesn't make sense. What will he gain by dying?"
"Well...what most people would want," the Gypsy replied patiently. "Peace of mind."
"Peace of mind? He will gain nothing!"
"Maybe. But he will finally be free from the curse. There is no other way. He knows that if he continues to live, he will go on suffering its horrible consequences. He will bring nothing but terror and death to this world."
So, Larry was the point of their conversation. As Elsa listened, it occurred to her how articulate the Monster had become; his voice was rough, saturated in a thick Hungarian accent. A remnant of a sinister man...Ygor. No doubt, from the brain transplant her father had performed on the Monster several years ago. As a result, the Monster and Ygor now spoke as one.
She couldn't forget that time the criminal affixed her with a leery gaze, after his impromptu visit with her father. Or when she ran into him another time while he was allowed to stay in the sanitarium. Each encounter was always unpleasant. It was exacerbated only by the eerie music he played from his horn as well as her father's revolting tolerance of his presence.
She was also quite surprised that Maleva didn't seem the least bit frightened of the Monster. For a moment, Elsa wondered if the Gypsey was actually crazy for not fearing it. But how could a gentle, yet astute old woman bear such lunacy?
"Talbot is not a good friend," the Monster complained. "He thinks of death all the time."
"If you were forced to live an evil curse and take the lives of innocent people, you may think a lot about it too."
There was a moment of silence. "But I am not suffering from a curse! I want to live, not die. When the doctor performs the experiment tonight, I will regain my strength...my power back."
There was a hint of amusement on Maleva's worn features. "The strength of a hundred men?"
"Yes! I will be invincible again. And if those miserable villagers dare to come after me, I will deal with them. All of them will pay for trying to destroy me. For shunning me from the world. For denying what was rightfully mine: immortality. That is reason enough to live!"
Growing upset, Elsa turned around and left the den, tightly clutching the Bourbon in her hands. After briskly walking down several halls, she stopped at what used to be the library room. The fire had burnt most of the shelves and books beyond recognition, and there was a large, gaping hole in the roof. Else didn't bother to notice as the rage at hearing what the Monster audaciously declared radiated within her core.
You don't know what you are talking about, Monster! she thought. There are more noble things to live for than revenge and a lust for power. Things like altruism, freedom, and trust...things that you will never understand! All you want to do is live forever and play out your autocratic fantasies of terrorizing and controlling everyone!
Angrily, she hurled the whiskey bottle at the wall, where it broke and shattered loudly, shards of glass and crimson liquid scattering all over the blackened, soot floor. She finally had enough of this place - with her grandfather's twisted creation and this sickening talk about immortality. She was once terrified of the Monster, but now, he made her livid.
And how dare Maleva tolerate his presence! Doesn't she know what he is?
Just because Dr. Mannering was trying to help him too. The doctor. Impulsively, Elsa scurried towards the laboratory where he was working. When she finally entered the large and dilapidated chamber, the young British man was in the middle of testing one of the generator machines.
The lights from the apparatus were flashing continuously, while a clamorous electrical buzzing resounded in the air. It made Elsa want to cover her ears. When the doctor turned around, he noticed her and proceeded to shut off the machine.
"Elsa?"
Huffing in a breath, she marched up the small steps to the elevated platform where he stood. "Frank, are you absolutely sure that you will perform the experiment tonight?"
He looked at her, concerned by her obvious distress. "Well, yes of course. Why? Is something wrong?"
"Oh..." Elsa put a hand to her head, turning away. "It's just this place. I wish it would be over soon."
Dr. Mannering looked a bit amused. "Now you?"
Elsa turned around. "What?"
"Well, you saw how Larry was. He's just as anxious about going through with it. Of course, he's always like that. I've never met anyone so eager to die. So...joyful about it. It's somewhat intriguing…and morbid."
He looked thoughtful, as if trying to fathom the concept from a suicide's point of view.
"Not as morbid as the existence of that thing," Elsa replied bitterly. "If anyone deserves to die, it's that monstrous bastard out there."
The doctor was a bit startled by her swearing but could see the unnerving pain in her eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize how badly this was affecting you."
Elsa was silent for a moment. "The Monster's caused nothing but pain and misery to my family. Right now, I heard him talking to Maleva about all the wrong reasons to live. He not only wants to be strong, to be immortal - he wants revenge on Vasaria. He craves power and world domination. I'm certain that is Ygor talking too. He was a madman."
Dr. Mannering put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Come now Elsa, that's not going to happen. The Monster will be destroyed within a few hours." He gestured towards the electrical machinery. "When I drain his life energy, it will all be over. We just have to keep him fooled into thinking we're helping him for a little while longer."
"Well, I just hope it works."
"It will. Trust me, nothing will go wrong. "
Elsa let out a small laugh. "And here I thought Larry was the insane one."
The doctor looked down. "Yes, it's too bad he wants to die. But maybe it's also his way of atoning for the murders that he committed."
A shudder ran through Elsa at hearing that. She couldn't fully grasp the idea of Larry being a tragic, sympathetic man, but also a cold-blooded killer. But it was the curse of the Wolf Man that made him that way. It brought about his evil side.
He remembered every murder with frightening clarity – the lust for blood, the need to quell an uncontrollable rage, taking the lives of those unfortunate enough to cross his path. Larry was no man possessed by some demonic entity. He had wanted to kill.
But after transforming back into a human, he would emerge – looking no different from a person who had just been raped or witnessed a horrific massacre. Larry was as much of a victim as those he killed. He was forced to give in to his primal, darker side, and no doubt, he hated himself for being weak because he couldn't control it. He felt utterly helpless. Raw guilt and frequent nightmares ate him up. So, the only solution was one that was irrevocably permanent.
Elsa suddenly felt tired. "I think I better get some rest."
"Will you be alright?"
She nodded, giving him a grateful smile. "Good luck tonight, Frank. I pray it all goes well."
"It will. Thank you, Elsa."
With a final nod, she baded the doctor goodnight and made her way back down the corridor. The Monster would be gone soon and Vasaria would finally have peace. Free from its own curse. Elsa decided on another route to her room; it was a secret short-cut she used to take when she lived here.
She arrived at the dining room, one of the few places that had sustained little damage from the fire. Elsa crossed the room, feeling a sense of poignancy. She remembered happier times when she used to have meals with her parents here. Now, it was part of this hellish corpse of a chateau.
She suddenly felt on the verge of crying, and quickly hurried out of the room before she could completely burst into tears. Visiting the past would do her no good. It was too painful, so she made a firm decision to focus on the present, even if it was often a struggle.
Finally, the Baroness made it back to her quarters, once again feeling alone and a little frightened.
As she lay down on the old guest bed, she thought of calling Erik and telling him the whole truth. Of course, he would jump onto the next train to Vasaria if he ever found out the Monster was alive. Forget about being sick.
But even if he were to come, he would only get involved in this horrendous mess. Elsa knew she couldn't take responsibility for that; she had to deal with this personal ordeal alone. As the she tried to sleep, she dared to think of better times; ones to come after this damn nightmare was all over...and she knew it would be soon.
. . .