Bride

by Kyle Alexander Romines

  The hall was almost bare, with the exception of a few animal skins draped over the walls. A few old men were gathered around the fire. A trio of sailors loudly exchanged stories at a nearby table. Most of the others were at the bar, where the bartender clearly had his work cut out for him. I didn’t need my enhanced senses to detect the strong scent of alcohol in the air.

  I lingered in the corner of the room, keeping out of sight. No one took note of me, or what I was doing in such a place.

  “Go on upstairs,” I heard the priest order the girl. He gave her a slight push in the direction of the stairs. “I’ll be along shortly.” Wilhelm approached the bar and laid a few coins on the counter. The barman looked him with a hint of recognition and the coins promptly disappeared, replaced by a tall tankard a moment later.

  I stared at the priest for a long while before gliding past him like a ship passing through still waters. I was gone before he turned around, and he returned to his ale without a second thought. I climbed the stairs without making a sound. The priest’s room was at the end of a long hallway atop the stairs. Moonlight stole inside through a window overlooking the lake. The door had been left ajar. It fell open at the slightest touch.

  The girl was easy enough to find. She sat on the bed waiting for Wilhelm with a downcast expression.

  “Who’s there?” she called, staring past the beam of moonlight into the darkness. “Father Wilhelm?” A floorboard shifted under my feet, but I remained hidden from her. “Is someone there?” Her heartbeat skipped nervously.

  “Your services are no longer required,” I said, tossing a pouch of coins on the bed. The girl peered through the blackness, unable to see me. “Leave through the back door,” I ordered. “Go now. Do not let the priest see you on the way out.”

  She hastily snatched the coins and fled out the open door, leaving me alone in the room. Everything inside the bedroom was covered in a thick layer of dust. The bed itself was topped with disheveled blankets that partially exposed a mattress that had seen better days. Beside the window, a knife glistened in the moonlight on a plate of grapes and moldy cheese.

  The sound of footsteps emanated from the creaking wooden staircase outside the door, and I receded into the darkness before Father Wilhelm entered the bedroom, carrying a half-empty tankard.

  “Edith?” he asked, setting the tankard on the mantle. “Where are you? It’s too blasted dark in here to see.” I closed the door, and he jumped at the noise. “Edith, is that you?”

  “Good evening, Father.”

  The priest stiffened. “You’re not Edith.”

  “I’m afraid Edith had business elsewhere,” I said as he searched for me in the dark. “You’ll have to make do with me instead.”

  “Who are you?” he demanded, his voice indignant. “What do you want?”

  I stepped out of the shadows. “Justine Moritz,” I said. “You told her to confess.”

  “I know you,” he said indignantly. “You’re the girl from the cathedral. Why are you here?”

  “You knew she was innocent,” I said, my voice a low hiss, “but you sent her to the gallows anyway. Why?”

  “I don’t have to stand here and listen to these baseless accusations.” When he started toward the door, I blocked his path. “Get out of my way.” He attempted to move me, but I shoved him hard, and he stumbled back toward the window, nearly losing his footing.

  “You’ll find I’m not as easy to push around as the girls you’re used to.”

  “You’re mad,” he said, taking a step back as I slowly advanced. His heel hit the wall, and he glanced back and saw the window behind him.

  “Answer me,” I demanded.

  “Justine Moritz killed that boy,” he said, looking from me to the window. He was trapped, and he knew it. “She strangled him to death with her own hands.”

  “You’re lying,” I said. “I was there. Think carefully about that day, Father. Do you remember what she looked like?”

  When I stepped into the moonlight, the priest’s mouth widened in shock. “It’s you,” he stammered. “You’re her.” The hairs on his arm stood up as his skin broke out in gooseflesh.

  I nodded.

  “This is impossible,” he said. “Stay back!”

  I grabbed the priest and pushed him against the window, causing a crack to run through the glass. “She was innocent,” I whispered into his ear. “She was good, and you killed her.”

  “The people needed justice,” the priest said. “I was trying to help keep the peace. It was Rengel’s idea,” he added hastily as my grip tightened around him. “He thought it would damage the Frankenstein family.”

  An inhuman growl escaped my lips. I was seized by an unquenchable thirst for vengeance. The priest deserved to die. I had him at my mercy, and yet, I hesitated, unable to finish him.

  Wilhelm took advantage of my internal turmoil, and before I could react, he snatched the knife from the plate on the table and thrust it into my abdomen.

  My eyes widened as black blood covered my white dress. I stared up at Wilhelm, who still held the hilt of the knife clutched in his hand, and my face contorted in fury. I seized his forearm with one hand and his free hand in the other and forced the knife from my body. The blade glistened in the pale moonlight as it slid free. The priest’s beady eyes bulged from the strain as he tried to resist, and we struggled over possession of the knife. He put his hands on my face, smearing my cosmetics as his fingers attempted to claw their way into my skin.

  At last I overpowered Wilhelm and turned the knife back on him, plunging it into his chest with a savage cry. I pushed him against the window, and he saw my true face reflected in the moon’s light.

  “What are you?” he said, afraid, and my lips pulled back into a smile.

  “I’m Frankenstein’s monster.” I threw him through the window. Wilhelm fell back through the air, glass raining around him. He hit the pavement with a crash.

  I gazed down at him from the window. A pool of blood spread out from his head. He stared back at me with lifeless eyes.

  That was when I noticed the figure watching from the street. My eyes met the creature’s, and if I had a pulse it would have quickened. The monster’s face glowed with delight in the moonlight, as if in approval of my display of savagery.

  Outside the tavern, a crowd began to form around the priest. I heard a scream, and then there were bells ringing.

  “You there,” someone called out below, and I turned from the window and fled on foot.

  I rushed down the stairs and dashed outside into the night. There were dogs barking loudly behind me, and I heard the villagers shouting. As long as I remained in the open, I was visible—exposed. I dived into an alleyway, scrambling blindly as memories of the mob that killed me sent me into a panic. Torches burned through the night at my back, and I searched desperately for a place to hide. A boarded-up door to an abandoned building jumped out at me, and I rammed my shoulder into the door until it gave way.

  I stumbled inside and slammed the door shut behind me. I took a few steps back, still watching the door, and then retreated deeper into the building. A rat scurried into a hole at my approach. I took a moment to gather my composure and glanced around the room. The building had clearly been deserted for a long time. I heard movement outside and quieted my breathing, tension shooting through my entire body. When the mob passed and the alleyway fell silent once more, I breathed a sigh of relief.

  Then I heard the floor groan behind me. I spun around, and something darted past me in the blackness, just out of sight.

  “Who’s there?” I demanded, backing away. “Show yourself.”

  A monstrous figure stepped in front of the windows, obscuring the moonlight. Before I could flee, the creature grabbed me by the throat and shoved me against the peeling wall, sending dust pouring down on my head from the rafters above.

  “Did you think I would not find you?” he said, his breath on my neck. “I told you there was nowhere you could run that I could not fo
llow.”

  I struggled to free myself from his grip, but it was in vain. Victor had formed him too well—he was stronger than me, and I was spent and temporarily weakened from my struggle with the priest. The creature was an adversary I could not afford at the moment. I needed to return to the inn unseen before daybreak in order to avoid suspicion for the priest’s murder. Failing to do so would compromise everything I had worked for.

  Suddenly, it occurred to me that if I could not overcome the monster with force, perhaps there was another way to deal with him. “You were right,” I said, struggling for air. “We are bound together, you and I—for good or ill.”

  “Is that a plea for mercy?” he asked, his yellow eyes gleaming with an all too familiar sense of anger. “You should know better than to expect that from me.”

  “It’s an admission,” I replied, and a perplexed expression came over his face. The creature released his grip, and I slid down the wall to the floor. “You were right about Victor. You were right about everything.”

  The creature regarded me warily as I rubbed my throat. It wasn’t surprising. I remembered the stories he had shared with me. Every time he had trusted someone, they had let him down. It was something I understood just as well.

  “Do you think me a fool? I was there last night. I watched the two of you in the cemetery. I know what Frankenstein means to you.”

  I laughed, a bitter sound drawn from my own pain. “I loved him, yes. Can you blame me for that? He was my whole life—until the moment he abandoned me.”

  When I approached, the creature’s face became an expressionless mask. “You rejected me, just like all the rest. You left me to burn in the flames.”

  I nodded. “Yes. I did.” I stared into his eyes and saw weakness, however well hidden, when he averted his gaze from me. “I saw only your face. I didn’t understand your pain—or your rage—until I returned here, looking for Victor, and saw that I meant nothing to him. I see you now.” I rested my hand on his face, and he shivered before pulling away. “I truly see you. We never wanted this life. It was chosen for us by our creator.”

  “You have changed,” he said, noticing the blood on my hands. “I saw it on your face when you killed the priest.”

  “I’ve become what he made me to be,” I acknowledged. I circled the creature, choosing my next words carefully. “Victor raised us to life and left us alone, condemned to an eternity of suffering. And how should we reward such cruelty?”

  “I’ve thought of little else since the moment I learned his name,” he answered. “I will tear the heart from his chest.”

  I shook my head. The last thing I wanted was Victor’s death, even if that was information I could not share with the creature. “Death is too good for him. He must be made to suffer first.”

  “Then we will take more of his family, until he is alone in this world.”

  “No,” I said, a little too forcefully. Whatever my plans for Victor, I wanted no harm to befall his family. I still cared for them. “Not yet,” I added before he became suspicious. “I have a better idea.” I took his hands in mine, and the creature shuddered at my touch. How he must have longed for this moment. The smallest kindness meant the world to him. “When it’s over, we will be together, and you will never be alone again.”

  “Promise me,” he said, “and I will do anything you ask.”

  How easy it was to manipulate him. “You have my word,” I lied. Then I brought his hands to my lips and kissed them softly, and in the moonlight, there were tears in his eyes.

  I suppressed the urge to laugh. For all his cunning and brutality, the creature was even more of a fool than I imagined if he thought I would ever belong to him. I had not forgotten that he had killed William, or that he had sent me off to my death. Before the end, he too would pay for his part in my suffering. In the meantime, Victor’s monster might have his uses.

  I told him what I wanted from him, and then left him in the darkness to return to the inn, the weight of his yellow eyes heavy on my back.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I arrived at the inn just before dawn. I stumbled inside and found the hall mercifully deserted. A low whimper filled the lonely room, and I realized the sound was coming from me. I lurched forward and bumped into the wall. The staircase towered in front of me like a mountain. I leaned against the guardrail for support. Each step felt farther away than the last.

  Without warning, a sharp pain from the stab wound shot through my side. I cradled the injury and struggled to the top of the stairs. When I drew my hand back, it was covered in a thin coating of inky blood. I staggered into my bedroom and collapsed onto the bed. An age had passed since I last slept, and my eyes grew heavy, until finally they fell closed and all thought faded from my mind.

  In my slumber, I remembered. The scene from Justine’s past was relatively recent, and the details remained sharp and vivid. The autumn leaves were on full display on the bent and tired trees, abandoning their branches in the breeze like falling stars. I stood in a cemetery, looking over a tombstone.

  I recognize this place, I thought. It was the same graveyard where I was eventually buried, where I confronted Victor only days ago.

  My cheeks stung from the biting cold. Despite the layers under my black mourning dress, the white shawl, and scarves I wore, I shuddered in the chilly air. A gentle hand touched my shoulder, and I felt the warmth of Gerhardt’s body at my side.

  I held my father’s crucifix clutched tightly in my hand and mouthed the words of a prayer. The grave was one of four grouped together. It was a new grave, as were two others. The fourth—my father’s grave—was several years older. I leaned over his tombstone and cleared away the dried leaves, fighting the lump in my throat.

  “They’re all gone now,” I whispered, resting my hand on the fresh pile of dirt. “She was the last one.”

  Gerhardt knelt at my side. “It’s all right,” he said soothingly. “I’m here.”

  “Baron Frankenstein offered to pay for the stone,” I said, my gaze fixed on the place where my sister was buried. “He said he would make a place for her in the family plot, but I told him she belonged with the others—with Papa.”

  My mother had kept my siblings from me after I went to live with the Frankenstein family, and by the time they contracted the pox, it was too late.

  Gerhardt held me close. “I’m sorry, Justine.”

  I swallowed hard and looked back at him, smiling a little as the sunlight crept through the branches. “She’s in a better place now, somewhere there is no suffering or pain.”

  “These are nice,” Gerhardt said. His fingers trailed over a bouquet of white roses that been left at the grave. The beautiful flowers were out of place in the cemetery, which was meant for the common folk. It was a touching tribute to how much my family meant to me.

  “They were a gift from Victor.” We shared a quiet moment in the graveyard until at last Gerhardt helped me to my feet. “Mamma wants me to come home,” I whispered, confiding in him. “She has no one left but me.”

  He frowned, but only for a moment. “I don’t want her to hurt you again.”

  I looked away. “She needs me, Gerhardt. It’s my duty.”

  He gently turned my face up toward him. “What do you want?”

  I leaned against him, and he hugged me to him, supporting my weight. “I don’t want to leave William—I don’t want to leave the family.”

  “Follow your heart, Justine. Whatever you decide, I will be there for you—always.” He hesitated for a long moment and kissed me on the lips. “I love you.” It was the first time he had said the words aloud. I didn’t have to wait to answer him.

  “And I love you,” I said as we held each other in the cemetery, leaves falling around us.

  I woke with a start, the memory of our kiss fresh on my lips.

  Where am I? I wondered, temporarily disoriented. Then I saw the dried blood on my sheets, and everything that had happened since I departed the castle came rushing back to me at
once. I killed him, I thought, jarred by the contrast between the recollection of my violent confrontation with the priest and the tender moment I once shared with Gerhardt.

  “What have I done?” I whispered, overcome by a semblance of regret. While it was true that Wilhelm had attempted to kill me first, and I acted in self-defense, deep down I knew that I had entered the tavern with his death in mind. It was also true that I had hesitated in the moment before he stabbed me. What would I have done if he hadn’t grabbed the knife? There was no way to know. The only certainty was that he was dead, and it was at my hand.

  I felt that I had crossed some invisible line from which there was no turning back. My stomach turned at the thought of my feral joy when I threw him from the window. That I was a monster was something that I had already accepted, but I was frightened that a part of me enjoyed it.

  I sat up and instinctively reached toward my injury, but the pain in my side had lessened considerably. I eased myself out of bed and stripped off my ruined dress to inspect the wound under the sunlight entering the bedroom through the space between the curtains. The mirror over the dresser reflected what I saw with my own eyes: the wound had nearly vanished overnight. My gaze lingered on the mirror, and I caught a glimpse of my appearance. My cosmetics were smeared from my scuffle with the priest, and my hair was a tangled mess.

  My eyes wandered down to my neck, and I recoiled at the memory of the creature’s lifeless, spider-like fingers around my throat. I had struck a devil’s bargain with the thing that killed William, and I dreaded what would happen when it was time for him to collect. At the moment we were allies, but his behavior was impossible to predict, and I feared he would prove too difficult to control.

  I peeked through the curtains, and from the glance outside it appeared almost midday. I had slept longer than I thought. My stomach growled suddenly with an unfamiliar sensation of hunger. My wounds had healed in my sleep, but the accelerated rate of healing had left me in need of sustenance. Even with my door shut, I smelled the mouth-watering aroma coming from the kitchens beneath me. Using water from the basin atop the dresser, I cleaned the remainder of my wound as best I could.