Frankenstein Lives Again (The New Adventures of Frankenstein)

by Glut, Donald F.

  “You gave him your word,” said a man seated at Franz’ table. “You must stick to that.”

  “Bah!” said Franz in anger, slamming his fist on the table. “What good is an honest man’s word to a murderer? In twenty-four hours, the Monster might slaughter any number of us. I say we forget our promise and go after the demon ourselves. Besides, the twenty-four hours will be up shortly anyway.”

  To the bartender, Franz shouted, “Another whiskey!”

  The crowd was gradually shifting toward Franz’ opinion on the subject and were grumbling in agreement with him.

  “But Winslow said that he was the only one who could destroy the demon,” said the bartender as he served Franz the drink.

  Quaffing the whiskey down in a single gulp, Franz replied, “Winslow does little more than talk. We don’t need his chemicals and scalpels to destroy the creature. We have torches, don’t we? Fire can kill anything, even Frankenstein’s monster.”

  “Perhaps it is the whiskey talking and not you, Heinrich,” said the bartender, still standing by the table. “You know what Mayor Krag and the police have said about starting riots.”

  “Bah! also on the police,” said Franz. “If we wait for them to take any action, we’ll be thanking them for their efforts from our graves. It’s because of Krag, to avenge his death especially, that we must act ourselves. Now here’s my plan. Half of us go off in search of the Monster, taking along torches and rifles, whatever other weapons we can gather. The other half goes to the castle and takes along some dynamite! We must blow up that evil place before Winslow or some other would-be Frankenstein creates another monster in that damned laboratory!”

  The crowd shouted their agreement and disagreement.

  “Heinrich is right!” a voice cut through the cacophony of voices.

  “No!” yelled another man. “Let us wait! At least for a while longer, until the time limit is up. We gave our word –”

  “Word?” came another shout. “Promises are worthless when made to Satan!”

  The Red Galley Inn was a riotous mixture of conflicting opinions, though most of the discernible voices seemed to be on Franz’ side.

  Just then two men burst into the congested inn, their faces twisted with fear. “Heinrich!” one of them shouted.

  “Yes,” replied Franz, waving the crowd to a hush, “what is it?”

  Johann blurted out his message. “We have just returned from the woods near the castle grounds. We were standing in the clearing near the river that connects with the moat. And we saw — “ His words seemed stuck in his throat.

  “Yes?” demanded Franz, rising from the table and pushing his way through the crowd to get to the two men. “The Monster?”

  “Not exactly,” said Johann. “But we saw something else… those two horror show wagons that saved the Monster last night. They are waiting, with no sign of the Monster, that Professor or his driver, outside the castle.”

  “Did you hear that?” Heinrich Franz addressed the crowd, a wild blaze in his eyes. “The wagons! That means that the Monster has returned to its birthplace and that Winslow has probably made some pact with Dartani! Now nothing will stop us, not even the gendarmes!”

  Again the group roared, this time in total agreement.

  “Get your torches lit and load your guns!” exclaimed Franz, slamming hard his empty whiskey glass on the table to make certain all eyes went to him. “We’re going out and destroy that horror, Winslow or no Winslow!”

  The crowd was a pack of barking animals. They moved and shoved their way through the thick clouds of smoke and pushed out into the dark street. Most of their words were indistinguishable, though many of them could be heard shouting their war cry into the night:

  “To Castle Frankenstein!”

  * * *

  The rain had subsided, but only temporarily. A slight trickle of water splashed against Burt Winslow’s bruised face as he lay beneath the debris that had been a barn. He opened his eyes and saw that night had come. He could see that the sky was still cloudy and knew that the storm would probably soon resume its ferocity.

  His wounded shoulder was becoming numb. But there were other pains racking his body. His head ached terribly and movement was almost impossible.

  The muddy ground was flush against his face. Wooden planks surrounded him on every side and he was virtually pinned to the earth by the sections of roof that pressed upon his back. Miraculously he had not been crushed to death by the collapsing barn. He felt as though he were trapped inside a coffin, wooden boards flanking him on both sides and above.

  Winslow thought again of Dartani and the unknown plan that involved the Monster. And he thought of Lynn alone at Castle Frankenstein.

  With great determination, Winslow pushed himself forward, managing to crawl through the slime, his fingers digging deeply into the mud. He was sliding along, motivated by his own worries. At last he pulled himself out from under the weight of the debris and found breathing suddenly easier.

  Standing erect, he stretched his limbs, then saw the bloodied human hand protruding lifelessly from the ruins.

  Gort! he thought. The brute’s large frame must have taken most of the impact and, ironically, shielded him from an otherwise crushing death.

  Thunder and lightning roared overhead. Instantly Winslow thought of the creature that had first come alive in such a storm. He staggered to the spot where the wagons had been, noticing that the trail left by the wheels was still visible. If only he could follow them before they were washed away by the coming storm.

  Winslow gasped. He saw the direction that the tracks led, noted which way the road the tracks intersected with led. He knew that somewhere in the distance, unless Dartani’s wagons veered off to one of the connecting trails, waited a hill atop which was perched Castle Frankenstein.

  “Lynn!” he exclaimed, running toward his Volkswagen while another crack of lightning illuminated the sky.

  Frantically he rushed inside the car, started the ignition, threw the vehicle into gear and sped along the muddy road. He heard another deafening clap of thunder and prayed that the wagon tracks would lead him someplace other than where he suspected. But deep in his soul, he knew that they would not.

  * * *

  There seemed nowhere that Lynn could run. She was still fighting off the last vestiges of Dartani’s power, but all avenues of escape seemed blocked to her. Running past Dartani might return her to his full control. If she reached the front door, the Monster, in response to his master’s command, could easily stop her. The bedroom and its door lock might provide her with a brief respite, until the Monster tore down the door with his brute strength. Then she would be faced with leaping to the moat outside the bedroom window or surrendering.

  There was also the option to fight Dartani, but there was always that threat of his mesmeric eyes. Lynn opted for an impulse and began to rush up the staircase, tearing free of his clutch in a single burst of energy, taking two or more steps at a time.

  “No –!” commanded Dartani. “Look at me! My eyes.’”

  Even though not looking back, the little control that Dartani still had over her could be felt. An unseen hand seemed to be guiding the woman, turning her head in the old man’s direction. But she struggled to look ahead.

  He took two slow steps up the stairs, his hands shakily reaching out ahead of him.

  Lynn heard a roar of thunder, followed by what almost sounded to her like an automobile engine.

  “My eyes.’” the Professor repeated, more forceful this time.

  As she reached the top of the stairs, she felt the full force of his command, and unwillingly fell to his power. She turned to face him, her hands falling away from her tattered shirt, her breasts spilling out to his delight. He took yet another step, the grin on his mummylike face revealing his triumph. “You thought you could get away from Dartani,” he said. “But no one gets free from me!”

  Then she made one last effort to gain freedom from his will. Though it was not in
her character, she forced herself to scream, hoping that the cry of desperation would have the effect she desired.

  She had not expected her scream to alert the man now dashing across the castle courtyard and toward the building.

  Winslow, catching a glimpse of the torchlights showing through the trees, felt sick. He knew what the circus wagons parked outside meant and hoped that he had arrived in time. The scream originated in the laboratory, which is where Winslow immediately ran. His heart sinking, Winslow stopped to see the figure of Dartani ascending the stairs, his prize standing half-naked at the top of the steps, apparently unable to move.

  “Lynn!” shouted Winslow.

  Hearing Winslow’s voice, Dartani, who was almost upon the woman, paused. “You!” he hissed. “You should be dead by now! Then if you are here and Gort is not…”

  His green eyes burned toward the Frankenstein monster and it was only now, his attention completely on Lynn, that Winslow noticed him. “You!” Dartani commanded. “Kill the intruder! And this time do not fail me!”

  The Monster, still for so long, finally stirred at his master’s command. The heavy eyelids fluttered several times, then the head of the beast turned in Winslow’s direction. But again, the Monster reacted strangely to Winslow’s appearance and did not lunge forward to kill his enemy.

  Dartani, however, did not see that the Monster was disobeying him a second time. His concern now was the golden-haired beauty just inches beyond his grasp. He touched her shoulder and she cringed, her legs bending slightly at the knees.

  “N-no…” she said, battling his will perhaps for a final time, and mustering the strength to shove him against the wall. But she might not have another chance to escape him. Always his dominating will returned to captivate her. No longer worried about her own nakedness, she rushed around a corner, not taking the way that led to the bedroom, but ascending yet another flight of stairs.

  “You won’t get far from me,” said Dartani, recovering and following her. “It will only be moments before you’re mine again, completely… and eternally!”

  In the laboratory below, the Monster was finally stalking Winslow. But there was a noticeable uncertainty in the giant’s movements, as though he were waging his own private battle against the Professor’s orders.

  Seizing upon the Monster’s confusion, Winslow started for the staircase to go after Dartani and Lynn, but was promptly caught by a giant yellow hand. The Monster growled, his soul-shattering roar filling the chamber. He dragged Winslow back and hurled him against the wall.

  Dazed but basically unhurt, Winslow looked up at him. “What’s wrong? Is that the hardest you can toss me? Or, is there something inside of you that won’t let you kill me as your master commanded?”

  The Monster staggered, clutching the sides of his head, not knowing what to do next. That was the moment for Winslow to act. Grabbing a chair, he swung it at the creature, catching him off balance and sending him stumbling into a mass of coils and terminals and gadgets. The apparatus exploded in a terrific display of smoke and electrical sparks.

  Shielding his body from the explosion, Winslow saw the room unexpectedly fill with torch-carrying townspeople, Franz standing in the lead. They too shielded themselves from the blast, then reacted to the presence of the Monster.

  Only Franz had seen the Monster before, but there was no need to identify him.

  “The Monster!” someone behind Franz hollered, voice cracking.

  “It’s Frankenstein’s monster!” yelled another. “Let’s destroy him,” shouted Franz, waving his torch like a great general leading the charge.

  But in that moment, Winslow heard another voice screaming his name in terror. He reacted toward the staircase. “Lynn!”

  The Monster also heard the scream and raised his head. In his mind was the memory of the woman who had been kind to him while Winslow continued his experiment. Winslow – the Monster watched him now as he began to move toward the stairs. If something inside prevented his slaying Winslow, at least he could partially carry out his master’s command by hurting him. Again his hands were on the doctor, lifting him bodily off the floor.

  “Burt!” Lynn’s scream again filled the castle.

  The Monster’s mind fought the influence of Dartani, thought of Winslow, remembered the beautiful woman now in Dartani’s power. A pain shot through his transplanted brain and a snarl of utter hatred issued from between his clenched teeth.

  The heavy eyelids blinked and his fingers relaxed.

  Winslow dropped in a heap to the floor and looked up at the giant. That terrible awareness was back in those yellow eyes. In that moment the scientist knew that the beast’s mind had burst free of its psychic shackles.

  Again, Winslow attempted to rush to the stairs, but the Monster brushed him aside. The blow sent pain coursing through Winslow’s body. He hoped he possessed enough strength to succeed at another try.

  “Kill the Monster!”

  Both Winslow and the Monster reacted to the shout, seeing Franz bravely rushing forward with his blazing torch. Even the downed scientist could feel the torch’s heat. Instinctively the Monster reacted.

  Fire!

  The flames were dangerously close. The giant recoiled, waving his long arms, growling at the sensation of the heat and the sight of an enemy that could consume his once-dead flesh.

  Then a pale hand moved in a blur and grasped Franz by the leg, pulling him high into the air in an upside-down position. The torch dropped from the townsman’s shaking hand as he was lifted to the creature’s eye level. The Monster’s head turned toward an open window. A moment later Franz’ screaming form could be seen soaring through the opening to be swallowed in the darkness outside.

  Again the room echoed with the sound of Lynn’s scream.

  “Stay back!” Winslow warned the other human beings in the laboratory, who were all reacting with astonishment to the death of their leader.

  The Monster’s mind whirled. The woman who was kind to him was now in danger from the robber of minds. But there were still the townspeople with which to reckon, vengeance-crazed men waiting to set him ablaze with their torches. There was no recourse but to brave their fire, even though it meant his complete destruction.

  His gigantic hands reached out to grasp a huge piece of machinery set against the wall. With little strain, the beast lifted the massive device over his head and hurled it with incredible force into the front line of villagers, squashing their squirming bodies against the floor. They screamed, but the Monster was concerned only with the scream he had heard from above. He began to lumber toward the stairs.

  “The rest of you, get out of here while you can!” exclaimed Winslow. He reached down to pick up the torch dropped by Franz. “From now on, I’ll deal with the Monster!”

  But the giant was already rushing up the flight of stone steps.

  * * *

  Lightning again crashed in the cloudy night sky.

  Atop the roof of Castle Frankenstein, Lynn felt the first drops of water fall to her shoulders. She was still fighting a no-win battle against Professor Dartani’s psychic powers. Every few moments she would begin to slip away from his control, only to be lured back to his gaze by his suggestive voice.

  She managed to look down toward the moat, seeing that the wind was agitating the waters that eventually led to the Rhine. The churning waves seemed to beckon to her to leap to her death and be swallowed by the water rather than to submit to Dartani’s touch.

  The water splashing against her bare legs and chest had somewhat of a recuperative effect. It aroused her own will enough to continue moving away from Dartani, shielding her eyes from his mesmeric gaze with her hands.

  Overhead more lightning illuminated the dark sky and the rain began to drop in a torrent.

  Lynn rubbed her arms from the cold, the wind, the water assaulting her. She saw the jagged, upstanding rocks that protruded from the waters of the moat. And she saw Dartani, a cackle spewing from his lips, as he came closer to he
r.

  Suddenly there was the parapet pressing against her back. She had to decide what to do now for there was nowhere left to flee. Dartani was only inches away, his eyes lecherously basking in the way the soaked remnants of her clothes stuck to her.

  “Now,” he gasped, to the accompaniment of a thunder clap, “you are mine!”

  She turned away, trying to decide her own fate, fearing the instant in which Dartani’s clammy hands seized her. But he never again touched her flesh. When she looked up again she saw that the Professor was not looking at her anymore but at the black-clad giant angrily stomping toward him through the rain, a hideous frown on his face, his long arms extended forward.

  “Stop!” Dartani commanded as the rain continued to fall on him. “Obey me! Stop where you are! Dartani is your master!”

  But the Monster did not obey, nor would he ever again. With his thick black hair drenched by the rain, he stalked forward with hatred in his transplanted eyes and a growl in his throat.

  Realizing that his psychic control over the Monster had ended, Dartani began to move away from the oncoming beast, back to where Lynn was standing. Even as the Monster stalked him, the Professor tried desperately to regain his control. But, as far as the Monster was now concerned, Dartani had no power.

  The Monster saw Lynn, saw the shivering beauty in her torn clothes, and hated Dartani even more for his attempted molestation of her. She looked up at him, a faint smile appearing on her lips. The brute responded by roaring and lifting the cowering Professor off the wet roof.

  “Put me down!” begged Dartani as the Monster lifted him over his rain-splashed head. “I am your master! I control your will! Let me alone… please!”

  Professor Dartani was still shrieking when the Monster held him high to be struck by a sudden streak of lightning.

  Then the beast dashed the smoldering vulturelike corpse down to the rocks and waves of the moat.

  Lynn gasped with relief, almost collapsing from exhaustion but catching herself on the parapet. She looked up at the Monster, who was standing there gazing at her. “I know that if you heard me scream,” she told him, “you’d remember.” In that moment, as he started to lumber toward her, she knew that she had nothing to fear from the Frankenstein monster.