Bride

by Kyle Alexander Romines

“Henry, I would like to introduce you to Persephone,” Victor said, turning to me. “Persephone, this is my good friend Henry Clerval.”

  Henry was clearly at a loss for words, so I curtsied in his direction and smiled to set him at ease. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Clerval. I’ve been looking forward to meeting one of Victor’s childhood companions—he says so little about his past.”

  Henry’s brow furrowed uncomfortably. “I think we’ve met before—have we not?”

  “You’ll have to forgive me if I’ve forgotten,” I said. “I wasn’t quite myself for a while.”

  Henry leaned closer to me and lowered his voice to a whisper. “And are you now? Yourself, I mean?”

  “I’m afraid I don’t understand,” I answered, confused.

  Victor took the opportunity to interject. “We have much to discuss. Persephone is eager to hear more about life in the village, as am I. Perhaps we should continue the conversation over supper.”

  “Yes, of course,” Henry said, almost as an afterthought, his gaze still fixed on me.

  Victor pulled back a chair for me, and the three of us seated ourselves around the table. As we settled into conversation, Henry’s discomfort seemed to abate, even if he never appeared entirely at ease. We were served plates with quail, bread, and potatoes in short order. Henry drained a tankard of whiskey, from which Victor and I abstained. After a short time, Henry’s hands steadied. I frequently glanced back at Victor for reassurance, to make sure I was blending in correctly, and he nodded each time in approval.

  “Tell me about Victor’s family,” I implored Henry. “Did you know them well?”

  “You’ve never met them?” Henry asked. He had taken to answering each inquiry with questions of his own, as if he was attempting to assess what I knew or remembered of the past.

  I shook my head wistfully. “Only what precious little I’ve learned from stories. I’d love to see Geneva one day.” Victor shifted in his chair awkwardly at the prospect.

  “I’ve known Victor’s family since I can remember,” Henry said. “His father Alphonse is a local baron, and his mother Caroline was an angel, God rest her soul. Then there were his two brothers, Ernest and William.”

  William. As soon as it was uttered, the name stuck like a splinter inside my mind. The corners of my mouth twitched in response to some unseen stimulus. I was almost certain I had heard the name before—that I knew it from somewhere. But that was impossible. Through clenched teeth, I forced myself to focus on what Henry was saying.

  “You really don’t remember anything, do you?” he mused, wearing a look of disbelief.

  I laughed, again perplexed by this line of questioning. “And what is it that I should remember?”

  “Persephone,” Victor interrupted before Henry could answer, “How do you like the quail?”

  “It’s delicious,” I said, lifting another forkful to my mouth. “I’ve never tasted anything like it before.” The conversation resumed between Victor and Henry, but I found myself distracted, unable to focus.

  I closed my eyes, and without warning I saw a young, golden-haired boy running across a green field, a mischievous smile on his lips.

  “Persephone?” It was Victor. I opened my eyes, and the image of the boy was torn away, replaced by the tavern. “Are you feeling all right?”

  “Yes,” I lied, hoping to conceal the distress I felt inside. I didn’t want Victor to think there was something wrong with me. I had worked so hard for this moment—I couldn’t ruin it now. I dabbed my mouth with the napkin and took a nervous drink of water, placing my palm on the table to steady myself.

  One by one the other tables filled as more villagers spilled into the tavern, and the hall grew loud with revelry. Victor and Henry were forced to speak in raised voices to be heard above the noise, though my ears easily picked up everything that was said. I also heard murmuring from nearby tables, where people had begun glancing in our direction. Some of them were watching Victor with suspicion, but most of them were staring at my scars, two of which were visible above the top of my dress.

  “Have you ever seen skin so white?” one of them muttered under her breath.

  “Look at those lips,” another said. “She looks like death warmed over. And those scars…”

  For the first time that evening, I felt a sense of disquiet. Why didn’t they like me? Was I doing something wrong? Victor seemed to take note, for he leaned over and whispered into my ear.

  “Ignore them. You look beautiful.” Under the table, he gave my hand a squeeze before letting it go all too quickly.

  Henry, who had just finished his second tankard, shook his head. “They know something’s not right.” He bent forward, and the candle at the center of the table cast his face in an eerie light. “Victor, when will we leave this accursed place? For the last few nights, I’ve felt as if something was watching me. The villagers avoid me at every step.”

  I turned to Victor, confused. “We’re leaving?” He’d never mentioned the prospect to me before. “Where are we going?”

  “Things have changed,” Victor said. “I can’t leave her, Henry. I can’t let him have her. Not anymore.”

  I didn’t understand what he was talking about, but when I closed my eyes, I saw the boy again. William, the name echoed in my mind. What’s happening to me?

  I tried to stand and stumbled forward, landing on my knees. The murmuring around us intensified.

  “Justine,” Henry exclaimed, startled. “Is something wrong?”

  Victor started to come to my side, but I pulled away before he could touch me.

  “I need some air,” I said, fleeing from the hall as Victor shot Henry an angry look.

  It was dark outside. Night had descended over Loch Aberfrey while we dined, and the town that once seemed so alluring was now something altogether different under the moonlight. Lampposts burned brightly along the road as I staggered from the tavern, my mind full of racing, incoherent thoughts.

  What did he call me? I wondered. The name came without warning, as if it had been there all along, waiting for me to discover it from the start.

  Justine.

  The village around me vanished abruptly, as if I had been thrown into a kind of waking nightmare, or a memory from a night long ago. Disjointed images flashed through my mind like fragments of a shattered whole. I was being herded through a town square, surrounded by a mob on all sides. Their voices became a terrifying roar, and everywhere I turned, leering, mocking faces leapt out at me from the crowd. The mob parted ahead, revealing the gallows, where a rope waited for me. I screamed and tried to resist, but they pushed me forward. Suddenly, there was a noose around my neck, and then…

  A voice cried out, and the nightmarish images faded, leaving me shaking and gasping for air. Where am I? Someone screamed, and it was only then that I remembered that I was still in the village.

  People were standing nearby, staring and pointing at me. I looked around, alarmed, and saw a trail of devastation in my wake. From the look of things, I had literally torn my way through the marketplace in a blind frenzy. I glanced down at my hands in disbelief that I could be capable of such violence, but the proof was before my eyes. The grocer’s stand lay in tatters, with splintered wooden beams and produce scattered everywhere. An empty bench had been ripped to pieces beside the fountain. One of the lampposts had been uprooted.

  Dogs strained at their collars against their owners, barking loudly at me. A crowd formed as more people accumulated in the street. Revulsion showed on their faces. I backed away, shuddering at what I had done. This was beyond my wildest fears.

  “Monster,” one of them said, and my eyes widened in terror.

  “No,” I exclaimed. “I didn’t mean to! I wasn’t…”

  A voice rang out above the crowd. “Persephone!” With Henry lingering behind him in the doorway, Victor came running from the tavern, only to stop short, frozen in place. I followed his gaze to a spot among the throng, where a hauntingly familiar s
ilhouette towered above the others. It was the creature. His fiendish smile widened in approval at my display of rage.

  I took a step back, consumed by fear, unable to move as the creature drew closer. Suddenly, he was standing inches away from me, his breath cold on my face.

  “It’s time. I’ve come for you, my bride.” He held out his hand to me, but when I drew back from his touch, his smile became an angry snarl. “You belong to me.” He seized me in a vice-like grip, his yellowed fingers ensnaring my arm.

  “Let me go,” I stammered as he pulled me closer to him.

  A gunshot echoed through the night. Without warning, the monster released me, and I fell against the hard ground. Black blood spurted from a hole in the monster’s coat.

  Across the square, Victor stood holding a pistol, an expression of dark triumph in his eyes. “Stay away from her,” he said coldly.

  When the creature saw Victor, his face contorted in unfathomable rage. He forgot about me entirely and started toward Victor, his monstrous frame swiftly closing the distance between them. Victor fired again. The second shot hit the creature in the shoulder, but the creature continued his advance, undaunted. He grabbed Victor and hoisted him off the ground with one hand until his legs dangled in the air. Victor struggled to breathe with the creature’s fingers clenched around his throat.

  “Did you think you could keep her for yourself?” the monster demanded, his voice full of wrath. He swept the gun away, and it vanished into the night. “From me? As if she could care for you after I’ve told her the truth about why you made her.”

  Victor tried kicking the monster, but his feeble blows glanced off the monster’s flank without harming him at all. “She will never want you,” he managed to cough out. “No one could.”

  “You never gave me a name,” the creature hissed, slamming Victor against the ground. “As you die, know this: I will bathe this world in such blood that when it hears the name Frankenstein, it will think only of me.” His grip tightened around Victor’s neck.

  When the creature had threatened Victor in the cottage before, I had been too frightened to do anything about it. Now, my blood boiled with righteous fury. With a feral scream, I ran at the creature and hurled myself upon him, catching him by surprise. The collision sent us both crashing through a window of the butcher’s shop.

  The crowd descended into chaos. Everyone ran blindly, shouting and screaming. I stumbled backward into the mass of people, my eyes on the creature, who looked back at me with a sad expression. He picked himself up and started toward me, but a pair of horses ran between us, rearing wildly at the sight of us. I pivoted and ran through the crowd, shouting Victor’s name.

  “Persephone!” he called out to me, and I spotted him near the tavern with Henry. “We must depart,” he said, grabbing Henry by the shoulder. “Persephone and I must return to the cottage. I can’t abandon my research. You have to leave at once. It’s not safe here.”

  “Where will we go?” Henry demanded, clearly shaken by the events that had just transpired.

  “Perth,” Victor said. “Meet us where you and I parted ways. Travel safely, my friend.” He took my hand and led me toward one of the carriages as Henry disappeared into the crowd.

  We spent the frantic return journey in silence, each still processing what had taken place in the village. The clouds parted, revealing the full moon in all its terrible glory. The forest glowed in the eerie light. Creatures scurried unseen in the night, and the shadows they cast moved and flowed. At every turn I imagined Frankenstein’s monster was there, lurking in the dark, seeking to claim me for his own.

  Victor and I sat side-by-side in the box seat atop the carriage. Victor steered the horses, which fled down the trail like animals possessed. Even with the moonlight, and the lantern burning brightly beside us, it would have been impossible to find the path through the fog had Victor not known the road. Finally the carriage neared the edge of the woods, through which the cottage lay under the pale light.

  Victor leapt from the carriage and tore into the cottage, but I stayed behind a moment longer to gaze upon the only home I had ever known. A sense of loss welled up inside me. Only hours ago I was the happiest I had ever been.

  A dozen questions were spinning around in my mind in search of answers, and there was only one person who might know the truth. A twig snapped somewhere in the night. I glanced behind me, a chill racing down my spine, and hurried inside the house, where I found Victor hastily packing his things.

  “He’s coming,” he said without looking up at me. “We must move quickly.”

  “Victor,” I said softly as I approached.

  “Pack anything of value,” he said, ignoring me, “but only what we need. We can’t afford to waste time.”

  I felt a twinge of annoyance. Here he was, still treating me as his pupil when I had just saved his life. I wanted answers, and I had grown tired of him withholding them from me. “Victor,” I said forcefully to get his attention before slamming his suitcase shut. He looked up, startled. “That thing called me his bride. He said I belonged to him. Why?”

  Victor shook his head. “Persephone, there’s no time for this.” He tried to open the suitcase again, but I held it shut.

  “We’re not leaving until you tell me the truth. The creature said you made me for a reason.” I paused, the truth finally dawning on me, and I understood what Victor had meant when he said he taught me all he could because he wanted to give me a chance. “You made me for him, didn’t you?” I gazed into his eyes, desperately hoping he would deny the accusation.

  Instead, he fell silent.

  When Victor opened his mouth again, he struggled to speak. “After the monster murdered my brother, he made me a promise. He told me that if I created a companion for him, he would disappear from my life forever. If I did not, he would enact terrible vengeance on everyone I love.”

  The words stung bitterly. From the moment of my birth, I had been destined not for happiness with Victor, but to be the bride of his monster. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I demanded, blinking back tears.

  “I knew the truth would hurt you,” he said. “And I couldn’t bear the thought of causing you anymore suffering.”

  “That’s what tonight was about,” I muttered aloud. “You were saying goodbye. It’s what you told Henry. You were going to leave me with that creature, to endure an eternity of suffering at his side.”

  “No, Persephone,” Victor said, letting go of the suitcase. He came to stand beside me, under the moonbeams seeping through the window. He took my hands. “Whatever my plan at first, as I grew to know you, I came to care for you.” He bowed his head, as if admitting a secret shame. “To love you. I can’t give you over to him—no matter the cost.”

  His words moved me, as did the admission of guilt. Victor was not the perfect idol I had once envisioned, but this I had known from the moment I discovered my true nature. Whatever his shortcomings, I knew in that moment that I loved him despite them.

  The horses began neighing loudly outside the cottage.

  “He’s close.” I glanced outside the room. “My storybook.” It was the only object in the world that meant something to me. I couldn’t leave it behind.

  “There’s no time,” Victor replied, taking a step back. “We have to go. Now.” He held out his hand, much as the creature had done earlier that very night. Doubt crept into my mind, and I hesitated. There were still questions that remained, but they would have to wait. If the monster caught up to us…

  I nodded and took Victor’s hand. He led me outside the cottage, and together we descended the familiar path that led to the beach, where a small sailboat waited on the shore. Victor helped me into the boat, and then he pushed the vessel into the sea. As we paddled, the shore grew farther and farther away, but when I looked back, I saw a shadowy figure watching us from the cliff’s peak, his long, black hair flowing in the wind.

  Chapter Seven

  Mist rose from the surface of the deep, enveloping
the boat in a dense fog. We sailed into rough waters, with Victor at the helm. The air was frigid—even I felt cold—and he was shivering violently, with only his coat for warmth. It was a reminder that for all his genius, he remained human and fragile.

  We said little to one another, perhaps out of mutual exhaustion, or fear the creature had somehow followed us into the mist. I was having difficulty reconciling my feelings for Victor, which had finally been reciprocated, with the fact that he had been concealing the truth from me yet again. Part of me looked upon his face with love; the other part in shock and anger that he had even considered handing me off to such a monster.

  Then there was the nightmarish vision I experienced after Henry called me Justine. The name still lurked in the corners of my mind, like a ghost trying to get out. It had felt so real—as if I was reliving someone else’s memories.

  “Justine,” I whispered below the sound of the waves, too quietly for Victor to hear. Who was she, and why did it feel like I knew her? I preferred futile attempts at answering this riddle to dwelling on my mindless outburst in the town square. What if I really was the monster they said I was? It was too frightening to think about. Emotionally and physically exhausted, I lay back and shut my eyes, willing the memories away. Sometime in the night I fell asleep under the watchful gaze of the stars, as the boat rocked gently to and fro beneath me.

  In my sleep, I dreamed of William. It was the same as before, a golden-haired boy running through the fields, bathed in sunlight. Even in the dream, my heart hurt at the sight of him, like a raw wound reopened. Somehow, I knew I loved this child I had never met. Each incomplete picture reminded me of pages of a book that had been burned away and torn out. In one fleeting image, a woman’s shadow loomed over the boy.

  I awoke with Victor’s coat draped over me. It was morning. The fog had vanished during the night. The once-threatening sea now appeared a serene deep blue under the sun’s warm glow, even against the perpetually overcast Scottish skies.

  “You’re awake,” Victor said. His tone was friendly, but his face was a mask.