Bride

by Kyle Alexander Romines

  The creature released his grip on the tiller and stood. His weight shifted the boat as he approached, until at last he was towering above me. “And who would choose to love a face like this?” The creature lowered his hood. “Even you, who I hoped would be able to see past this tortured flesh, recoil at the sight of me.”

  I remembered how the villagers in Loch Aberfrey had looked at me, and for a moment, a strange sense of kinship struck me, and I felt something like compassion. I stood and looked him in the eyes, our faces inches from each other, and did not flinch. The creature seemed to tremble under my gaze.

  I shook my head slowly, never breaking eye contact. “It’s not your face that frightens me.”

  The creature sighed, a long, drawn out sound like a death rattle. He framed my face with a yellow hand, as if he wanted to kiss me. I backed away into the mast, and with his other hand, he handed me a small package wrapped in brown paper and held together by a string. He returned to the tiller without a word. When I opened the package, I found myself looking on a familiar sight.

  “My storybook.” I ran my hand over the cover. My gaze fell on the spot where he sat alone. “Thank you.”

  “I know how fond you are of it,” he replied. “You left it behind in your flight, when our creator thought he could steal you from me.”

  “Victor was trying to keep me safe,” I said in protest.

  “As if I would ever harm you,” the creature replied with a harsh laugh. “You alone are safe from my wrath. But he…he will suffer most dearly for his betrayal.”

  I fought back the anger at the threat against Victor. “Leave Victor and his family alone, please. I have gone with you—is that not enough?”

  “You care for them.” His intelligent eyes seemed to see right through me. “For you, I would relent. But…” his voice trailed off, as if to impress upon me the seriousness of his words. “If you attempt to escape, know that I will visit upon Frankenstein and his kin all the vengeance I have promised.”

  “You hate him that much?” I asked, unable to reconcile the loving Victor I knew with the contempt this creature held him in.

  For a while the monster did not answer, and there was only the sound of the waves colliding with the boat. “I might have loved him, given the chance. Our creator thought I would be beautiful, a tribute to his powers of life over death. But when I awoke and he saw my ugliness, he rejected me. You can’t begin to fathom the pain of being cast aside by the one who brought you into this world.” The creature paused for a moment, studying me carefully. “Or perhaps you can.”

  The inference caught me off guard. I tried to tell myself that he was wrong, that Victor hadn’t abandoned me, but the memory of the look in Victor’s eyes when I attempted to kiss him had been unmistakable. In many ways it was worse than what the creature had endured, for I had grown to love Victor first, before being denied by him.

  The creature continued. “Instead embracing me as a son, Frankenstein fled from me, leaving me alone in the world.” He stared away wistfully as the boat passed through a patch of light rainfall. “Unlike you, I had no teacher. I knew nothing of mankind, or of myself, but I learned soon enough. The peasants of Ingolstadt drove me away, repulsed by my hideous features, and I sought refuge in the wilderness. By chance I stumbled upon a family living in a remote area.

  “There I dwelled in the shadows, afraid to reveal myself. The people were so beautiful to gaze upon. When I saw my own reflection in a pond, I realized why the world hated me so. I was set apart from these humans, who were so lovely and attractive. My face and stature were monstrous, the stuff of nightmares. Even now, I cannot bear to glimpse my own reflection. Slowly and painfully, I learned to speak and read through my observations.”

  I couldn’t imagine how lonely he must have been. Surely Victor hadn’t intended this. “What became of them?”

  “How I dreamed of revealing myself to them! Surely, this kind family would overlook my deformity and welcome me into their home. I tried to prove myself by clearing away the snow from their house, or gathering firewood in the night. Finally, I gathered my courage and approached the oldest member of the household, who was blind.” His eyes were sad, full of regret. “He was the first person to ever show me kindness. For an all too brief time, I experienced a hint of the love and acceptance I had so long desired.”

  “What happened?” I asked, afraid to know the answer.

  “When the others returned, they too were horrified at the sight of me. Despite my attempts to explain myself, my would-be friends attacked me and drove me away. It was then that I discovered our maker’s journals tucked away in the pockets of my coat where he had left them. The pages contained everything I needed to know about my accursed creator: how he had sewn me together from the dead for his own selfish ambition, his revulsion at my ugliness, and his regret at having given me life.”

  “So you decided to seek your revenge.”

  The creature nodded. “Where once I would have given all for the love of my creator, I swore undying vengeance on Frankenstein, and the hateful lot of humanity that spawned him.”

  I felt both contempt and understanding at once. Would I have been the same, had Victor not treated me with kindness and love, had I also been abhorrent to look at? I hoped not; that my nature was different from this wretched creature. But now that I knew his story, I did feel sympathy for him.

  “There is ugliness in this world,” I said, offering a brave smile, “but there is beauty, too, if you look hard enough.” I thought of my books and my days in the cottage with Victor. Even now I remembered the fleeting sense of excitement that accompanied my first visit to the village, before everything had gone so terribly wrong.

  “You are still too young to understand,” the creature said as the rains died away. “There is nothing in their world for our kind but suffering and pain. We shall rise above them, you and I. Together we will be as one, each no longer alone—forever.”

  I shuddered at the suggestion.

  We sailed for one more day before we reached the river’s end. From there, our trail turned south, and we continued on foot. The weather did not improve; the very heavens themselves seemed to curse the creature, and I along with him. Having made a rudimentary effort at explaining his motives for taking me prisoner, the creature resumed his unnatural silence, which I secretly welcomed. He seemed to be shy and sensitive despite a veneer of coldness, which in some ways reminded me of Victor.

  Left alone with my thoughts, I continued to grapple with Justine’s broken memories. Images of William flashed by nearly every time I closed my eyes. It was strange to feel so strongly about someone I had never met, but each time I saw the boy, I knew Justine had loved him with all her heart. My mind was like a locked door, to which the key had been cast aside and forgotten. I tried my best to piece together the past based on the few memories that remained, along with what Victor had told me of his family.

  I knew the Frankenstein family had taken me in as a girl, although I did not remember why, and had no recollection of my life before that point. I was raised in their household, a servant, and when Caroline Frankenstein died, I became William’s nanny. Almost everything else remained a mystery to me. Once, when I asked the creature if he possessed any memories of his former life, he told me he had no life but the one Victor had given to him. I wondered what was worse: to be born a monster, or to become one?

  We wandered across the Scottish Highlands—scenic, rugged lands covered in mountains and valleys. Enormous volcanic rocks from ages long past protruded from cracks in the earth. We passed ice-filled mountain streams and fossil beds and scattered stones left uprooted by glaciers. Save for the white-capped mountain peaks, the snows vanished, revealing the sparse, low-growing moorlands underneath.

  We did not sleep. We hardly stopped for rest. My stamina and endurance were tested far above human levels, surprising even me. I began to think less of Victor and more of my own survival. At every moment, I looked for an opportunity to escape, but t
he creature kept me under a close watch. Even when he was out of my line of sight, I could always feel his eyes on me. My skin crawled when I thought of him attempting to kiss me, of those dead lips pressed against mine.

  After a few days of our travels, we came to a cliff from which a human settlement was visible, nestled in the valley beneath, under the mountain’s shadow. Threatening clouds loomed in the sky, promising rain. Hungry and on the verge of exhaustion, I saw my salvation in the village below.

  “There,” I said, pointing out the settlement to my captor. “We will find refuge there from the storm.”

  The creature’s coat flapped wildly in the gathering winds. He stared down at the settlement with a dark expression. “We will find no refuge in the company of man. We press forward.”

  “We’ve been on the road for days without a moment’s rest,” I said angrily, refusing to move on.

  The creature turned back, taking no pains to hide his displeasure. “When I fled from my pursuers, I came across a young girl who had fallen into the river. The currents were strong, and as she flailed about desperately, I saw that she was drowning. Despite everything I had endured—all the suffering at the hands of man—I threw myself into the river to save her. This act, I thought, would finally show the world I was not a monster.”

  “I fail to see what this account has to do with the village below.”

  Lightning flashed above. “A hunter stumbled upon us when we returned to the shore. Rather than thanking me, he took aim with his rifle and shot me, assuming the worst. That was the moment I lost any faith in mankind. Now come, Persephone.”

  “No.” My voice was firm. “I won’t go.”

  His expression changed, and his voice grew softer, as if speaking to an errant child. “Have you forgotten my promise? You will do as I say, or else I will rain down death and destruction on Victor and everyone he cares for.”

  The creature seemed to rebel against being challenged, so I decided to try another tactic. I grabbed his wrist, exposed outside his sleeve. The gesture took the creature by surprise, and he bristled at my touch like a wounded animal, with both fear and longing.

  “Please,” I begged, my fingers lingering on his skin. It demanded all my resolve not to withdraw my hand at once, but I held firm, gazing into his eyes. “Have you no pity in your heart? I’m hungry. I need to eat. I want to sleep in a bed for once.”

  He flinched from my gaze, his breath short and ragged. The simple act of physical contact that had long been denied him seemed to send cracks through all the walls he had erected to protect what remained of his heart. He turned away, and I heard something that sounded like a sob.

  “Very well,” he said after a time. “One night, and then we move on.”

  “Thank you,” I replied, but he had already started on a path down the mountain.

  We reached the settlement before the storm. Night descended with our approach, covering the valley in darkness. The village was a remote trading outpost, smaller even than Loch Aberfrey. Like many settlements in the highlands, the people were poor, denied the benefits of industry. The harsh climate and unforgiving lands were unsuitable for farming, leaving the peasants who dwelled there with a difficult life.

  Winds moaned over the mountain in the distance, where lightning reverberated in the clouds. Since the night of my birth, I had always been able to feel when a storm was coming, and I sensed it now. We walked over bare earth that had been well trodden; there were no paved streets of stone. The tattered edifices that loomed ahead were each made from wood, not brick.

  Torches blazed across the village. Most of the settlers were busy making last-minute preparations for the rains. They hurried about, securing what items they could, their thick accents magnified by loud voices. Horses whinnied wildly in the stables, though if from the impending storm or our approach, I cannot say.

  My companion wore his hood to cover his face. Despite his size, he moved through the village largely unnoticed. He seemed to wear the darkness like a second skin. I was less practiced at the art of concealing myself, but in the dim light I looked no different than any of the other peasant women. I had been wearing the same dress since the creature abducted me from Perth, and after days of traveling in the elements, my clothes were torn and caked in mud. My skin was dirty and unwashed, and my wild, unkempt hair blew freely in the wind.

  At last we came to a tavern, a two-story building that stood out among the others. Boisterous noises sounded from inside, drawing an unpleasant glower from the creature.

  “We’ll need coins for food and lodging,” I told the creature. Having depended on Victor for everything, I had no money of my own. I doubted my companion did either.

  The tavern’s door opened, and a drunk stumbled outside, holding a bottle in one hand and a pipe in the other. He hobbled into the alleyway behind the tavern while whistling a spirited tune, likely intent on relieving himself.

  “Wait here,” the monster commanded. He slipped into the shadows before I could say a word. Somewhere in the darkness, I heard a stifled scream, followed by whimpering—then nothing. A few moments later, the creature returned, carrying a small pouch of coins. Thunder boomed above, ushering in the rains, and in the lightning I saw his hands were covered in blood.

  “You killed him,” I said, horrified at the thoughtless cruelty the monster had inflicted on an innocent victim.

  He thrust the bag of coins into my hands. “You still think of yourself as one of them. We are more than they could ever be.”

  “I’m nothing like you.”

  He laughed, a dark, menacing sound that made me wish I were miles away. “But you are like me. We are the same, Persephone. I was there when you unleashed your anger in Loch Aberfrey. The same terrible rage in my heart dwells in yours as well. Despite your attempts to hide it, your true nature will reveal itself in time.”

  Making no answer, I pushed open the door to the tavern and stepped inside. The floor was covered in a thin layer of dirt. A musty smell hung about the dimly lit hall, which was packed by a crowd of villagers seeking sanctuary from the deluge raging outside. They were a fierce-looking lot of mostly men, seasoned and sharpened by a life full of hardship—a far cry from the genteel folk of Loch Aberfrey. The interior was sparsely decorated, with only a bar, a few tables and chairs, and a blazing fireplace.

  When we entered the room, the peasants turned in our direction, and any conversation died away in an instant. An eerie silence filled the hall, punctuated by thunder and rain. The creature towered nearly two feet taller than everyone else in the room, and even in the soft light, the bottom portion of his mangled face was visible under the hood. There was not a sound in the room as the creature walked to the bar, the floorboards creaking under his weight.

  “My bride would like food and a place to stay for the night,” the monster said to the barman, who had turned white at his approach. He deposited the pouch of coins without another word, and the barman reached out and took it with a quivering hand. After a moment’s pause, the conversation in the room resumed, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

  “You’ll find your lodging upstairs,” the barman stammered, pointing out the staircase that led to the tavern’s second floor.

  The creature turned and trudged toward the stairs. I started to follow, when suddenly I heard one of the peasants calling to his friends.

  “William!” he said, slapping his friend on the back as they toasted each other. The name triggered something inside of me, and without warning I was hurled back into the memory of Justine’s death. I remembered shouting for William, searching desperately for him after glimpsing the shadow in the forest. As the images unfolded before my eyes, I saw myself collapsing in the barn from exhaustion, and waking up with William’s locket in my lap.

  “Persephone!” a voice cried out, and when I opened my eyes again, the creature stared at me from across the room, which had again fallen still.

  “It was you,” I said, my voice a low hiss. “You killed me.”
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br />   The monster’s stunned silence betrayed the truth of my words. Victor had told me long ago that the creature had murdered his brother William, but I had only just now remembered the locket he carried with him—the locket bearing Caroline Frankenstein’s image. The creature must have planted the locket on Justine that night. The memory of her final moments came back to me again in a flash, how she had been forced to confess to a crime she didn’t commit.

  The creature had murdered the child I loved, and framed me for the murder. I seethed with anger, livid that this thing had thought I would be his bride. How could Victor have ever intended to give me over to the thing that had brought about my death? The very idea sickened me.

  “Persephone…” the creature whispered, at a loss for words. “You don’t understand.”

  As he started toward me, a group of nearby peasants came to my side. Others watched intently nearby, murmuring amongst themselves. “Are you all right, miss?” one of them asked, regarding the creature suspiciously. “Is he troubling you?”

  My moment had come at last. “Please, help me!” I screamed. “He wants to take me away!”

  The creature froze, taken aback. “What are you doing?” he asked, his eyes set only on me, the malice gone from his voice. In that instant, he seemed little more than a frightened child, whose hopes had just been dashed beyond recognition. Then the peasants advanced, wielding whatever weapons were within reach, and he broke into a frenzied rage. I stumbled back, watching as he plowed through them like a charging bear. He grasped for me through the crowd, and his fingers grazed my hair before the others pulled him back. With an inhuman wail, he tossed one of them into the fireplace and flung another across a table, killing them one by one with his bare hands.

  “Persephone!” he shouted, tearing toward me. Flames spread from one of the fallen candles, and before long fire ate away at the walls. My defenders decreased by the second. Those who had not perished in the struggle against the creature began to flee into the elements. I looked around the room for a weapon, and spotted a long kitchen knife resting on the bar.