Bride
Page 1
Bride
Copyright © 2017 by Kyle Alexander Romines All rights reserved.
First Edition: December 2017
ISBN-13: 978-1974146338
ISBN-10: 1974146332
Cover and Formatting: Damonza
Edited by Amanda Melheim
Proofread by Margaret Dean
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Characters from Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein are in the public domain. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
Contents
Also by Kyle Alexander Romines
Prologue: Justine
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Epilogue: Begotten
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Kyle Alexander Romines
The Keeper of the Crows
The Chrononaut
A Sound in the Dark
To sign up to receive author updates—and receive a FREE electronic copy of Kyle’s science-fiction novella, The Chrononaut—go to http://eepurl.com/bsvhYP.
This book is for all the monsters struggling to find their way to the light.
“I sat one evening in my laboratory; the sun had set, and the moon was just rising from the sea; I had not sufficient light for my employment, and I remained idle, in a pause of consideration of whether I should leave my labor for the night, or hasten its conclusion by an unremitting attention to it. As I sat, a train of reflection occurred to me, which led me to consider the effects of what I was now doing. Three years before I was engaged in the same manner, and had created a fiend whose unparalleled barbarity had desolated my heart, and filled it forever with the bitterest remorse. I was now about to form another being, of whose dispositions I was alike ignorant; she might become ten thousand times more malignant than her mate, and delight, for its own sake, in murder and wretchedness. He had sworn to quit the neighborhood of man, and hide himself in deserts; but she had not; and she, who in all probability was to become a thinking and reasoning animal, might refuse to comply with a compact made before her creation. They might even hate each other; the creature who already lived loathed his own deformity, and might he not conceive a greater abhorrence for it when it came before his eyes in the female form? She also might turn with disgust from him to the superior beauty of man; she might quit him, and he be again alone, exasperated by the fresh provocation of being deserted by one of his own species.”
—Mary Shelley, Frankenstein
Prologue
Justine
“Every monster was a man first.”
—Edward Albee
Geneva
1794
On the day she was fated to die, Justine Moritz had never been happier.
She walked under the shade of an immense castle at her back, watching her two charges frolic along the trail across the meadow. The youngest of the pair, a boy of six with golden curls and an impish grin, bounded down the path, wildly waving his arms about as he laughed.
“Don’t stray too far, William!” Justine called. She struggled against the weight of the picnic basket she carried, and the large, leather-bound volume tucked under the crook of her arm.
“Don’t worry, Justine—I’ll look after him,” promised Ernest, William’s older brother. Nearly sixteen, he was four years younger than Justine, though he had already grown several inches above her height, which was merely average. When William saw his brother approaching, he picked up a fallen branch and brandished it as a sword. Ernest did the same, and the brothers began to duel like pirates on the high seas.
It was the kind of summer day known only to Geneva, where the mountains themselves seemed to stir with life. As the castle shrank behind them, she basked in the sun’s warmth. From the fields to the distant forest, the world was vibrant and green everywhere she looked. Justine lifted her gaze upward, where birds flocked through a cloudless sky, adding their voices to nature’s song.
In contrast to the boys, who were outfitted in ornate waistcoats and tailored breeches, Justine wore a plain black-and-white maid’s dress, with lace trimming at the hem of her dress and the cuffs of her sleeves. Her chestnut hair was pinned up underneath her bonnet. She had soft, gentle features and a colorful complexion.
They walked for over a mile, until at last they came to a river nestled under the forest’s watchful gaze. “Here we are,” Justine said, staring across the serene blue waters. William flitted about at her legs, reaching for the basket of food that Justine dangled just out of reach until she laid out a blanket across the grass. Together, the trio joined in a picnic beside the shore.
William rifled through her belongings until his hands grasped the volume she’d brought. “What’s this?” he demanded, pulling at her dress.
Justine opened it for him and turned to the first page. “It’s a book I picked out from your father’s library. I thought you might want to practice for us, since your lessons have been going so well.”
William’s lips curled into a toothy grin, his blue eyes shimmering in the sunlight. “Why don’t you read it?” he asked.
Her smile faltered. The question was a reminder of the class distinction that would always remain between them, no matter how much she cared for him.
“That’s not funny,” Ernest said. He struck his little brother in the shoulder, causing William to burst into tears. “Now apologize.”
William’s cries grew louder, his face reddening. “I’m telling Father.”
Justine took him into her arms and patted him on the head. “There, there. It’s all right.”
“There are more important things than books,” Ernest said defiantly, nodding at Justine. The sentiment was in keeping with his nature; of all his brothers, Ernest was the least studious. He preferred the company of nature over a library, and in that respect, Justine quite agreed with him.
“I’m sorry, Justine,” William said after a moment, suddenly quite serious. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
“I forgive you, my little prince.” She ruffled his hair and kissed him on the forehead as he squirmed out of her grip. William grabbed his fishing pole and waded past the water’s edge, followed by his brother.
Justine stared at the pages of the book and sighed. She could read of course—one of the benefits of serving in the household of one of the most affluent and respected households in Geneva—but she read poorly, laboring and stumbling over each word. The letters always seemed to jumble themselves in her head. She couldn’t imagine spending an afternoon cooped up in a dusty old library, like the boys’ eldest brother.
She sat there contentedly, watching the boys fish away the afternoon. Ernest was ill during much of his childhood. Justine lost count of the days she spent praying
over his bedside that sickness would not claim him as it had her father, or his mother, Caroline. Looking at him now, on the cusp of adulthood, the transformation was startling. Unlike the rest of his family, Ernest’s passion lay not in government, philanthropy, or science, but in the forests and the fields surrounding the estate. He often spoke of becoming a farmer, or perhaps a gardener.
William, on the other hand, was another matter entirely. He seemed at times equal parts devil and angel. In one moment he could be sweet and kind, or else cruel and mischievous, as his early taunt proved. Regardless of his faults, he was still a young child, and Justine loved him without restraint, having practically raised him after his mother died.
She had served the family since she was a young girl, when her mother sent her away after her father’s death. Despite her lower status, the family had treated Justine like one of their own, and she loved them dearly for it. Each night in her prayers she remembered to thank God for blessing her to grow up in such a place.
Justine yawned, tired from the long walk and the heat. She had woken long before dawn to begin her chores in the castle, as was her routine. Her eyelids grew heavy, but before she could fall asleep, William came bounding toward her. He splashed through the water, holding a fish out for her to see.
“Look what I caught, Justine!” he said proudly. He pulled on his stockings and slid his shoes over his feet.
“Look how big it is. You must be growing very strong to fish something like this from the water.” William beamed at her, and Ernest approached, carrying a string of fish. “Why don’t we wrap these up, and we’ll have them for supper? You boys can tell your father all about your adventures.”
“But Justine, I don’t want to go back just yet,” William said. He stared off in the direction of the forest. “Let’s play.”
Justine followed his gaze to the woods and hesitated. It was already well into the afternoon, and the path back to the estate was long. “I don’t know,” she said, but William was already well on his way to the forest’s border.
“You’d better come catch me!” he called playfully over his shoulder before disappearing behind the line of trees.
When Justine shot a worried glance at Ernest, he merely shrugged and took off after his brother, the faint hint of a smile on his lips. Justine suppressed a grin of her own. Ernest wasn’t all grown up yet, it appeared. She stifled another yawn and rose reluctantly to give chase.
It was dark inside the woods, and surprisingly cool, despite the blazing sun. Justine wandered among the tall trees, looking for the others. The castle’s peak was no longer visible, the comforting safety of its presence diminished by the distance.
“William? Ernest?” She hoped they were hiding somewhere nearby, though it was more likely William was still running well ahead of her. She tried calling for them a second time, and again there was no answer.
Justine walked beside a winding stream that fed into the lake, searching in each direction. She passed an abandoned shack, well worn by time and disuse, but there was nothing inside it apart from a lonely squirrel foraging for fallen acorns. She was just about to leave when she spotted a footprint buried deep in the black soil.
Justine knelt over the earth and traced the outline with her fingers. It was part of a solitary pair, as if whoever had left it had been careful not to leave a trail. The size of the shoe was far too large to have been made by any person she knew, unless there were giants living in the woods. Suddenly, she realized that the forest had gone quiet.
A harsh growl shattered the stillness of the moment, and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. A dog faced the forest’s depths nearby, rooted to the spot. It ignored her approach, barking wildly at whatever had captured its attention before turning tail and vanishing into the brush.
Justine peered ahead for a glimpse of whatever the dog had seen. For a moment she imagined she saw a figure standing in the shadows, partially concealed by the trees. Impossibly, the shape appeared almost eight feet tall. A cold grip seized her stomach in its icy throes. Justine squinted for a better look, and a hand clasped her shoulder from behind. She nearly leapt out of her skin as the hand spun her around. She half-expected to find a monster looking back at her. Instead, a friendly face greeted her. Justine let out a sigh of relief, pleasantly surprised.
“Gerhardt, it’s just you.” She paused and gazed back at the spot where she had seen the shape in the shadows. Justine’s eyes were weak, and she had trouble seeing over long distances, so she squinted for a better look. The figure was gone, if it had ever been there at all. “What are you doing here?” she asked, turning her attention back to the man standing in front of her.
At twenty-five, Gerhardt was six years her senior. He was just a few inches shy of six feet, with broad shoulders and a muscular physique from working in the stables. Like Justine, his skin was darkened from long days spent under the sun—many of which they had shared together.
“I looked for you at the castle. Elizabeth said you’d be here. It appears she’s quite busy planning a wedding.”
Justine showed no emotion. “So she is.”
His gaze narrowed, as if searching her eyes for answers. “How does that make you feel?”
Justine looked away. “I’m happy for them, of course,” she said, and meant it.
“So am I.” Gerhardt bit his lip, as if considering his next words carefully. “I’m happy for her, at any rate. There are a great many rumors in the village about her intended’s time in Ingolstadt—talk of peculiar experiments and even grave robbery. It would be a pity if even one of them is true.”
Justine shook her head emphatically. “Don’t believe anything you hear about him. He’s not like that.”
“You always see the best in everyone. It’s one of the things I like most about you.” Gerhardt glanced around. “Speaking of the rest of the family, where are William and Ernest?”
“We were in the middle of a game of hide-and-seek,” she answered. “They’re hiding here somewhere.”
“Good.” Gerhardt took her by the hand. “I have news I must share with you, and I wanted tell you alone.”
She could tell he was excited. There was such intensity in his eyes that for a moment, Justine forgot about the game. “What is it?”
They had met in the marketplace two years ago, and Gerhardt had made his interest plain. Gerhardt was exuberant—bold to the point of brashness—but he had a courageous heart and a noble spirit. Over the course of their courtship, her feelings for him had blossomed into love.
“It couldn’t wait,” he said. “I had to tell you at once.” With his free hand, he cupped her face. “I’m enlisting, Justine.” He continued quickly before she could interrupt. “It’s the only way I have to make something of myself—to be worthy of you.”
Justine smiled, resting her cheek against the weight of his hand. “I don’t need you to be anything more than who you are. You’re already worthy of me.”
He shook his head. “I wouldn’t be able to look myself in the mirror knowing that I took you from that castle to live in squalor. I can’t give you what you deserve working in the stables the rest of my life.”
“So you’re leaving?” Her heart sank.
“Not without a proper farewell.” Gerhardt reached into a pocket and retrieved a copper ring. “This was my grandmother’s ring. It’s not much, I know.” His eyes spoke the question before it graced his lips. “Justine, you’re the kindest, gentlest, best person I’ve ever met—and I love you with everything in me. Say you’ll be mine.”
Justine flung her arms around him, overcome with happiness. “Yes,” she said. “Of course I will.”
Gerhardt kissed her on the lips, gently at first, and then with passion. Justine pulled back, mindful of the cross hanging from her neck. Gerhardt held her hands in his, apparently quite content with the kiss.
The moment of bliss was shattered by a blood-curdling scream. Both Justine and Gerhardt looked in the direction of the cry, alarmed.
“This way,” Gerhardt said, and they followed the sound as its echo grew dim.
Justine tore through the brush, running as fast as her legs could carry her. Branches scraped her cheek, but still she pressed on.
“Up ahead,” Gerhardt said, pointing at a clearing where she glimpsed a sign of movement. “There!”
It was Ernest. He noticed her concern at once. “Justine, what is it? What’s wrong?”
“I heard something,” she said, catching her breath. “It sounded like William calling for help.”
They searched for William together, until at last the sun hung heavy in the sky.
“We can’t find him anywhere,” Justine cried out. She turned to Gerhardt for guidance. “What are we going to do?”
Ernest seemed not to notice. “I punched him in the shoulder,” he muttered to himself. He was pale.
“You’re in shock,” Gerhardt said. He grabbed Ernest by the shoulders and shook. “You’re no good to anyone like this. Run back to the castle and fetch help. Tell them to go to the village if necessary. We need a search party.” Without another word, Ernest took off on the path that led back to the castle.
Justine turned back to Gerhardt, unconsciously fingering the ring he had given her. “We have to keep searching. What if he’s out there after dark? We should split up. We’ll be able to cover more ground that way.”
“I don’t like leaving you on your own.”
“I’m not on my own,” she answered. “I have you.” Then she wandered into the forest, shouting for William.
Justine searched for what felt like hours. It was all she could do to keep going. Her entire body ached. She was thirsty, hungry, and physically and emotionally exhausted.
“William,” she called, but her voice was little more than a hoarse whisper.
Finally, she came to an enormous barn on the outskirts of the forest. It was abandoned, filled only with hay and rusted tools. Justine collapsed in a haystack, which felt soft and light under her dress.