Bride

by Kyle Alexander Romines

  The passion faded from his voice, and he looked at the place where his father lay. “Ernest said his heart gave out.” Victor shook his head. “He loved Elizabeth best of all. Losing her would have killed him.”

  “I’m so sorry, Victor.”

  He offered no reply. A coldness appeared in his eyes, as if something had died inside him. As long as his family lived, there was always a chance of reconciliation. Now everyone was gone: Caroline, William, Alphonse, and Elizabeth. Only Ernest remained. Victor’s monster had taken everything he had lived for.

  Victor let go of Elizabeth and rose, a blank expression on his face. “They belong with William and my mother, in the family plot. Help me bury them.”

  “Of course.”

  Victor was distant throughout our return to Geneva, even from Ernest. The city was unnaturally quiet, like a torch that had burned itself out from the chaos that reigned the night of our departure. The streets were mostly abandoned. Barely anyone noticed as the horse-drawn wagon climbed the hill leading to what was left of the castle. I kept a close eye on Victor as we made our way to the family plot.

  “Can I trust you to see to the arrangements?” I overheard him ask Ernest when Alphonse and Elizabeth were under the earth.

  “Of course,” Ernest replied. His brow furrowed. “You aren’t going anywhere, are you?”

  Victor didn’t answer him.

  He was gone the next morning.

  I knew at once where Victor had gone. He was filled with the same thirst for vengeance that had almost consumed me—the same need for revenge that had driven his pitiful creation to commit monstrous acts. The two were locked in a conflict that would never end until one or both were dead. Perhaps the wisest course of action might have been to leave them to it. Everyone who got close to either was bound for suffering, and yet, I refused leave my creator to his fate, even if he had not asked for my help.

  He had disappeared by the time I returned to the city. When I asked around, those few who would speak to me told me he was asking about the creature. Someone thought they caught a glimpse of a giant sailing north. At the harbor I discovered I was too late; Victor already secured passage on a ship that had just departed. I used what remained of my resources to do likewise, watching as Geneva faded behind me for what was probably the last time.

  From there I traveled north along the course of the Rhône River. The boat made a few stops in France, and then in the Netherlands and Russia. At every leg of the journey the story was the same. Victor was tracking his monster across Europe, but at every step the creature eluded him. Still, Victor was merciless in his pursuit, and I barely managed to keep up with him. I caught a glimpse of him in a Russian harbor as he boarded another vessel, though he did not see me standing in the crowd. There was a look of madness in his eyes I had not seen before, one that evoked great pity in my heart.

  It was in the Arctic where we finally crossed paths, months later, miles from civilization in the snow-covered wilderness. I had been following him for days since discovering his boat. The tracks left by the sled dogs were fresh in the snow, and the harsh winds and snowfall that had marked my journey had faded. Victor was propped up against a snow bank, drinking water from a canteen. The dogs began barking at my approach, and Victor reached for his gun until he saw me. He was clearly stunned. It had probably been a long time since he last laid eyes on another person.

  “Persephone,” he stammered. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came here for you.”

  Victor was almost as wretched to behold as the creature. He was gaunt and thin. His hair was long and disheveled, and he sported an unruly beard. His clothes were worn and threadbare. A quick glance at his supplies told me he had not brought enough for a return journey. Victor had come to the Arctic with only death in mind.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” he said, collapsing by his campfire. “It’s not safe.”

  “That’s exactly why I’m here. Did you think I would allow you to go after him alone?”

  He offered a grim smile. “So you’re here to help me kill the fiend?”

  I shook my head. “I’m here to bring you home.”

  “There’s nothing left for me,” Victor replied, staring into the flames. “Only revenge.”

  “And when you have slain your monster, what then? I’m not letting you die out here, Victor.”

  “Death is the only peace I will ever know,” he replied sadly, interrupted by a coughing spell.

  “Are you all right?” I asked, noticing his pale complexion.

  “It’s nothing,” he answered too quickly. “You should go. I’m hot on his trail. It won’t be long now.”

  “I’m not leaving your side.”

  “Have it your way.” Victor rose from the snow bank, and I followed him across the ice.

  We continued together for days, saying barely a word. On the third day, we caught a glimpse of the creature fleeing across the ice just before sundown, but it was too late to pursue him in the dark. Though Victor tried his best to remain awake that night, his human frailty was never more apparent than in the harsh, sub-zero temperatures. I kept watch while he slept, shaking and coughing.

  The next day, Victor was different. “Do you want to know why I really came here?” he asked when we stopped for rest.

  I nodded. “You wanted to die.”

  He laughed, the first hint that something human remained inside him. “I thought we would have killed each other by now. He’s had more than one opportunity. He’s toying with me.” He stopped, overcome by another coughing spell.

  “He knows that once you’re dead, he’ll have nothing left. Revenge is his purpose, but once it is achieved, what kind of existence waits for him then?”

  Victor did not answer. He knew the words applied equally to him. “I told you that you were wrong to spare him,” he said quietly. “Perhaps I was wrong. You would have lost yourself if you had given in. Instead, you were able to enjoy precious time with those you loved. Nothing can take those memories away.”

  It was true. Before, I had blamed God for the misfortunes I endured. Now I saw that the evil in the world did not erase the good. It only meant that we should treasure each moment of happiness while it lasted.

  “It’s not too late,” I told him. “Leave this quest for vengeance behind. We can start over—make new memories. But I won’t force you. The choice is yours.”

  Victor was silent for a long moment, and then I felt him take my hand. He bowed his head and swallowed hard. “You haven’t given up on me, have you?” I shook my head. He reached out to me, and we embraced, holding each other in the snow. “Where will we go?”

  I shrugged. “It doesn’t matter, as long as we’re together. We’ll find our way back into the light, side by side.”

  “Perhaps you’re right. Maybe there is something worth living for.” Victor cast one glance back at the Arctic expanse and nodded before turning the sled around. We sped toward the sun, the prospect of a new dawn on the horizon. As we crossed a large sheet of ice, the sea within sight, the dogs began to bark loudly. I glanced up at the bank above, where a towering pillar stood apart from the endless whiteness.

  “Look out!” I shouted, but it was too late. The creature leapt down in front of us, sending cracks through ice. The dogs couldn’t stop in time, and the sled collided against his powerful frame. I was knocked across the ice as the sled overturned, trapping Victor beneath it.

  The monster approached Victor, who lay pinned and helpless. The dogs snarled, and leapt to defend their master. The pack bit at the creature and ripped at his clothes, but he tore them apart with ferocity, snapping their necks one by one. The remaining dogs fled into the distance, yelping and whimpering. Victor pulled his gun and fired it at the creature, who grabbed the sled and brought it down on him hard, further cracking the ice. Blood spurted from Victor’s mouth.

  I ran at the creature before he could finish his work. The impact of our collision sent us sliding across the ice, and a small h
ole appeared on the surface.

  “You killed Gerhardt,” I shouted, driving my fist into the creature’s hideous face. “You killed them all, you monster.” I struck him again and again, until the force caused the ice to break apart, revealing the blue depths below. “You don’t deserve to live.” I raised my fist in the air, ready to deliver the final blow.

  “Justine,” Victor called, hobbling toward me. “This is what he wants.”

  I saw his wounds and hesitated, and the creature took on an expression of unadulterated hate. His hand shot out from below and grabbed my neck.

  “Wait,” Victor called, limping across the snow, and the creature saw the blood on his clothes. “She’s not the one you’re really angry with.” The monster snarled but released me, and I landed with a thud as Victor drew near. “I’m sorry for how I treated you,” he said, unflinching from the monster’s gaze. He knelt on the ground, his arms open, and embraced the creature, who trembled at his touch. “My son—my beautiful son. Forgive me.”

  The creature began to cry. Then Victor planted his feet against the ground and thrust them over the ledge. I threw myself forward and caught Victor’s ankle at the last moment. The creature slipped from his grasp and plunged into the water, swallowed forever by the icy depths.

  After we fell to the ground together, we gathered ourselves in the snow.

  “The dogs are gone,” I said. “So are our supplies.”

  “I don’t think we’ll be making the return journey together,” he said, squeezing my hand, and I saw the full extent of his mortal injuries. There was blood everywhere.

  “Victor,” I said sadly. “Look at what he’s done to you.”

  Victor shook his head. “I did this. My actions brought us here. This is the price for my sins.” His body shivered in my grasp, and he began to cough. “I’m so cold, Justine.”

  “Don’t worry,” I said, my voice shaking. “I’ll stay with you until the end.”

  “I would have gone with you, you know,” he said, tracing the edge of my face. “You’re the only thing I ever did right.”

  Then his hand fell away, and he breathed his last.

  Epilogue

  Begotten

  The Journal of Justine Moritz

  “The day which we fear as our last is but the birthday of eternity.”

  —Seneca

  1797

  I knelt on the ice, cradling my creator’s limp body in my arms. I hugged him tightly against me, but there was no warmth in my undead body for him. It mattered not. He was already dead, just like all the rest. My family, William, Elizabeth, Alphonse, and Gerhardt—they were all gone. Even the creature was in a watery grave, though it was of no comfort to me. I was alone.

  The sun faded and re-emerged from behind black stratus clouds on a whim, its light blinding on the never-ending snowy expanse. The world beyond me was a blur of white and blue. Even with my enhanced vision, it was difficult to see clearly more than a few feet away. The low moan of the biting wind was the only sound for miles, like the wails of the condemned.

  Victor’s body grew cold in my arms. His skin turned ashen, and his lips took on a dark blue hue. He looked like me—a corpse. I buried my face against his shirt as if I feared he would slip from my grasp back into the sea, and my tears turned to ice on my face. My heart was broken. I already lost Victor once, long ago in another place where the snow fell. I had found him only to lose him again, just as I had with Gerhardt.

  As I reflected on all that had happened, I thought of the nature of good and evil. In some ways, Victor and the monster weren’t so different from each other. Both had done terrible things. Had Victor treated his creation with kindness instead of fear and contempt, events might have turned out differently. At almost every turn, Victor chose to run from his mistakes rather to face them, even when those he loved the most paid the price.

  After my experiences in the human world, I understood the creature’s despair all too well. All he had ever wanted was love and acceptance, which the world had denied him because of the way he appeared. Despite the sympathy I felt for him for what he suffered, the monster had made the choice to seek revenge, never turning from his murderous rampage. I might have fallen into the same trap, if not for one crucial difference. Though she too had faced hatred, Justine had also known love. That was what had pulled me back from the brink.

  In the end, Victor had chosen a different path from his monster. He had sought forgiveness and redemption for the mistakes he had committed. Ultimately, that was what set them apart. Victor sacrificed himself for me, but what kind of life waited for me now? I was stronger than any human. My body was made to endure the cold and the elements. I could survive in this desolate land without food, rest, or shelter. If I wished, I could escape this place, though it would take me a long time to make my way back to civilization on foot. But there was nothing to go back to. Everyone I loved—everything I knew—was gone. So I stayed there, at the edge of the world, waiting for the end.

  That was when I heard the sound of the ice breaking above the wind. When I listened closely, I heard something approaching through the water. I peered into the blizzard, searching for the source of the noise. A ship appeared in the distance, sailing slowly across the depths, heading north. I looked up, instantly alert.

  Men, I thought. Their voices carried over the distance.

  The evening sun was red, and the sky had already begun to darken. Torches burned on the ship’s deck, flickering amid the flurry of snow. I looked at the boat and back at Victor, and I knew what I had to do. I gathered my creator’s fallen form in my arms and carried him across the ice.

  The dogs aboard sensed me coming before the sailors spotted me. Their barks echoed across the wintery chasm. At last one of the sailors noticed me approaching through the blizzard. He shouted to his comrades, and I heard them murmuring amongst themselves in Russian. They were soon joined by a new figure that emerged from one of the cabins—a well-groomed man in fine clothes wearing a cocked captain’s hat—and they switched to a broken English.

  I stared up at the captain under the ship’s shadow as the sun slipped away, Victor’s body hanging from my arms. The other crewmembers looked unsettled at my sudden appearance, and not without cause. The dogs barked wildly at me from the deck.

  The captain broke the silence. “Well, don’t just stand there, you lot—help her!”

  The sailors brought me aboard, though they continued to look uneasy. Those restraining the dogs muttered amongst themselves in Russian between fleeting glances in my direction. The others formed a circle around me, and the captain approached.

  “My name is Robert Walton,” he said in the King’s English. “I’m the captain of this expedition. We want to be the first to reach the pole.” He stopped at the end of this pronouncement and peered past me into the snow. “How did you get here? Is there anyone else with you?”

  I shook my head. “I am alone.”

  His gaze fell on Victor. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “He’s not dead,” I replied. “He’s only sleeping.”

  The Russian crew murmured at his response, though Walton seemed more curious than alarmed. “Are you certain, Miss?”

  “I will not leave his body in this place,” I said simply.

  Walton nodded after briefly considering my words. “Of course.” He paused. “What is your name, Miss?”

  “My name is Justine,” I answered. “Justine Moritz.”

  Walton gestured to the sailors. “Take him below, and find Miss Moritz some food and warm blankets.” He rested a hand on my back. “You’re safe now, my dear.”

  I looked only at Victor. “Put him somewhere cold.”

  The ship pushed north. There was a tension aboard that had existed long before I set foot on the ship. Captain Walton remained mostly confined to his quarters, emerging only occasionally to give orders or take note of the ship’s progress. After months at sea, the sailors were tired, hungry, and cold with little to show for their effort
s. Many appeared ready to turn back. Walton, however, showed no sign of relenting. Instead, he pushed them harder than ever.

  I kept to myself during the day, though I roamed the ship by night. The sailors left me largely to my own devices. Save for Walton, none of the crew had warmed to my presence. As long as they did not disturb me, I was more than willing to oblige them. I sometimes spent hours on the ship’s deck after sunset, watching the starlight amid the northern darkness. On most nights I visited Victor’s corpse. The sailors never went near the body, which had been left on the orlop deck—the lowest level of the ship. My creator’s body was well preserved by the cold and snow. In death, he seemed finally free of the guilt and regret that had tormented him in life. It was as if despite everything, Victor had found some semblance of peace.

  Almost a week after the sailors rescued me from the arctic wilderness, the ship became trapped in the ice. Walton insisted the expedition continue, and relations between the captain and the Russian crewmembers continued to deteriorate. Whispers of mutiny evolved into open talk. Although he did his part alongside the others to work to free the ship from the ice, Walton otherwise remained inside his cabin.

  Three days after we became trapped, I received an invitation to have tea with the captain. Walton’s quarters were larger than I expected, a wide, dimly lit space that was reasonably well furnished for such a voyage. Candlelight spilled over books and maps as I entered, and shadows engulfed the cabin as the door closed behind me.

  Walton was warming himself beside the fire from the hearth. He was dressed fashionably compared to the rest of the crew, though having seen the rest of his wardrobe on display over the course of the week, I knew these to be his best clothes. A table rested a short distance away in the firelight, having been set for tea.

  “Miss Moritz,” he said pleasantly, offering a polite smile. “Please come in.” In the dim light, his freshly shaven face had acquired a decidedly boyish character. There was an unmistakable intensity in his eyes that reminded me in some ways of Victor.