Bride

by Kyle Alexander Romines

  The child who survived was nowhere in sight. I hoped she would find a good home, far away from Geneva, a city consumed by death. Perhaps in time, she might even forget the horrors she had witnessed. I turned my attention to the place where a soldier stood in front of the door, barring the entrance to the hut. I pushed my way to the front of the crowd and whispered a few words in his ear, and he ushered me through the doorway.

  Constable Rengel stood with his back to me, examining the bodies of the victims. “This man’s throat was crushed,” he muttered to the soldier beside him. “What kind of person has the strength to inflict such an injury?”

  “There’s someone here to see you, Constable,” the soldier I was with announced. “She says she knows something about the murders.”

  When Rengel saw me standing there, his brow arched in surprise, but only for a moment. He was dressed in a slight variation of his attire from the previous day, and wore the same clerical hat.

  “Miss Moritz,” he muttered. “I must say your visit is unexpected.”

  “I was hoping we might have an opportunity to speak,” I said, nodding at the others in the room. “Privately.”

  Rengel scoffed. “As you can see, I’m very busy at the moment.” He started to look away.

  “I think you will want to hear what I have to say. I believe we can be of use to each other.”

  “Very well,” he said. “Leave us.” The soldiers obeyed without hesitation. “It’s odd finding you here, at the scene of such a horrific murder. Then again, we must consider the reports I heard from the witnesses to Father Wilhelm’s murder. They said the most curious thing—a woman matching your description fled into the night.”

  I met his gaze. “Perhaps not so curious after all.” Neither of us so much as blinked.

  Rengel clasped his hands behind his back like a teacher admonishing an errant student and glanced at the body still seated at the table. Though the air inside was cool, flies had already begun to swarm around the dead man’s head.

  “And now, you seem remarkably comfortable in the presence of death. One could be forgiven for reaching certain…conclusions.” His tone dripped with arrogance. He was worse than Wilhelm. At least the priest was a hypocrite. Rengel really believed his piety, and he lorded it over me with every word.

  “Indeed.” I dragged my finger along the edge of the table as I walked its length, showing him the ease with which I ignored the corpse between us. I wanted him to know I wasn’t afraid. “Such as the conclusion one might draw about a constable who allows an innocent girl to be hanged, merely because he knows it will cause suffering to the family she serves.” Once I reached the end of the table, I looked casually at my finger and flicked the dust from it. “Why do you detest the Frankenstein family, by the way?”

  “That is my concern.” He stared at me intently. “If your claims about my motives are true, why are you willing to help me?”

  “As it happens, our interests are momentarily aligned.”

  His eyes narrowed across the room. “I’m not fond of riddles, Miss Moritz. Tell me what it is you’ve come to say.”

  I looked down at the woman whom the creature had strangled without a second thought, and the corner of my mouth twitched involuntarily. “I can give you what you want. I know what’s behind these murders.”

  “Tell me,” he demanded through clenched teeth.

  “Henry Clerval’s death in Scotland was no accident. There’s a reason death follows wherever Victor Frankenstein walks. It’s the same reason why graves have been disturbed since his return to Geneva.”

  “What are you saying?” Rengel asked. I saw the wheels turning. He was trying to put the information together, and I was there to help him do it.

  “We both know Justine was innocent of the crime for which you allowed her to die. Would you like to know what really killed William?” He didn’t reply, but I knew the answer all the same. “First, I want to hear you admit it.”

  He frowned. “Don’t forget who I am. I can make you tell me, if I wish.”

  I crossed the room in an instant. Before the constable could react, my hand was around his throat. He tried to call out to the soldiers for help but was unable to make a sound.

  “And if I wished, you would already be dead.” I released my hold on him.

  The constable loosened his collar and looked at me ruefully. “Yes. I let them take her. I would do it again in a heartbeat. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

  “Victor Frankenstein created a monster from parts of the dead. He brought his wretched being to life in a storm, and the creature has been killing ever since. The stories are true, constable.”

  “Impossible,” Rengel said. “Man cannot create life. Such a thing would be an abomination.”

  “It would also ruin the Frankenstein name. Think of it. You would be the hero that saved Geneva from a murderous beast and brought down your hated enemies all in one stroke.”

  “No one would believe me,” he replied. “I need proof.”

  “I can give you more than that,” I said. “I can give you the creature. I will tell you where you can find him. All I ask in return is that the blame falls squarely on Victor. Leave the other members of his house alone. They will suffer enough when this is known.”

  Rengel took a long moment to consider what I had said. “How is it that you know such things?” he asked after a time. “Who are you, really?”

  I left his question unanswered.

  I found him in the cemetery, near the place where we once stood together in another life.

  Despite the early hour, the sky had taken on an uncharacteristic gloom. Storm clouds gathered above the watchful mountains, hinting at rain. Trees swayed underneath the chilly breeze, which stirred the fallen leaves beneath my feet. I followed the path that led through the graveyard, certain of my destination.

  A sound echoed nearby, and I peered through the brush, hidden from sight. Gerhardt loomed over my tombstone, under the shade of the lonely tree on the hill where I had been buried. There was a shovel in his hands. His face and clothes were stained with dirt. Gerhardt heaved the shovel into the air and drove it deep into the earth again and again. The pile of dirt grew beside him until at last he reached the bottom, and the shovel fell from his hands.

  “The journal wasn’t meant for you,” I said, and when he turned around, I was standing across from him. “I didn’t want you to find out like this.”

  “So it’s true,” he whispered, and I nodded. “You’re alive. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  The wind moaned through the graves, tousling our clothes. “I wasn’t lying before. Justine is gone, Gerhardt. They took her from us. Other than a few of her memories, she is a stranger to me.”

  “You must remember me—remember us. I can see it in you.”

  “Only parts,” I replied. “It’s incomplete.”

  He approached slowly, as if unable to believe what he had learned. We stood face to face. “What of your eyes?”

  “Victor’s handiwork,” I said, removing my shawl to show him my scars.

  Gerhardt ran his hand over the scars on my shoulders. “That bastard,” he said angrily. “He never told me.” He paused. “The man who was with you last night, that was Victor’s doing, too, wasn’t it?”

  “He’s not a man, but a fiend. Victor built the creature that killed William. He promised to give me to him as a bride—the same creature that framed me for William’s murder.”

  The sky continued to darken above. “I’m so sorry, Justine.” Gerhardt traced the scar under my hairline at the temple, and his hand lingered on my skin. He leaned closer, as if to kiss me.

  I pulled away at the last second. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

  He looked at me, confused. “I don’t care how it happened. We have a chance to be together again. Isn’t that what you want?”

  “You don’t understand. I came to Geneva in search of revenge. The Justine you knew wouldn’t even recognize me. I’ve done terrible things.” />
  “So have I,” he said. “There are things I did in the war that I see whenever I close my eyes—things I can hardly speak about.”

  “War is different,” I said. “I mean murder, Gerhardt.”

  Realization spread over his face. “You killed the priest.” He took my silence as a confirmation. “Whatever you’re planning, you don’t have to do this. We can leave today, right now.”

  I shook my head sadly. “I’ve come too far to turn back now. It’s too late.”

  “I don’t believe that,” Gerhardt said. “It’s never too late.”

  “It is for me.” I turned from him and began walking away.

  “Justine,” he called after me.

  I stopped short at his words. “That’s not my name anymore.” I glanced at him over my shoulder. “You should leave the city, Gerhardt. You don’t want to be here for what comes next.”

  I left him standing there, beside the empty grave.

  Evening came at last. It was almost time to put the final part of my plan into motion, but first there was one small task that yet remained. I walked across an overgrown field just outside the city, toward a desolate building on the shoreline. The sky’s gray pallor was tinged with red as the last vestiges of sunlight vanished. Weeds and tall grasses swayed in the wind, their colors muted under the shade cast by the clouds. Thunder rumbled faintly in the distance, a promise of things to come.

  The structure ahead was only a building in the loosest sense of the word. From the look of things, it had likely been a lumber mill or barn of some sort at one point, or else a rather peculiar homestead. Wooden planks were missing or rotting in the field, and vines covered most of what remained. There were no footprints, no sign to indicate that the structure was anything other than vacant, but I knew I was not alone.

  The door hung open on its hinges, beckoning me to join the shadows within. I entered silently with a final glance over my shoulder at Geneva. The air was stale and musty. Precious little light crept inside, though my eyes pierced the veil of darkness without difficulty. I stood inside a single, open room that seemed much larger within than suggested by its exterior.

  The creature was waiting for me nearby. He sat on a bench facing away from me. I noticed a satchel filled with books beside him. The ground was littered with seeds, and I wondered if he had been feeding the animals. Despite his massive frame, he looked almost like a child.

  “You came,” he said without turning around. “I was not sure you would.” The softness of his tone surprised me.

  I came behind him and laid a hand on his shoulder. “I gave you my word, did I not?” The creature’s back went rigid at my touch.

  When he looked up at me, the rage and hatred he carried with him were gone from his face, replaced by an expression of regret. “I loved you from the moment I laid eyes on your corpse. I used to look upon your lifeless body in our creator’s laboratory. Night by night I would sing to you as he slept, willing you to live.”

  Despite the horrors of his face, the creature’s voice was beautiful. His words were articulate, revealing a thoughtful and lively mind. I remembered how he had rescued my book from the cottage, and for the first time it truly dawned on me the unintentional cruelty of Victor’s rejection. He was a child, full of rage one moment and love in an instant. Unlike me, he had never had anyone to show him the way, and now it was too late.

  “You were so beautiful when you woke. I’ve thought of nothing else since then, above even the thirst for vengeance that drives me.” He rose and looked away from me, his head bowed. “I wish to apologize for my actions before. I…I am not used to being among others. It is difficult for me to accept that someone like you would choose a creature like me.”

  “You needn’t be alone anymore,” I said. “Soon it will all be over.”

  He shook his head. “I know I am not the mate you would wish for. How could I be, with a face like this?”

  I touched his arm and he turned in my direction. “It was never your face that troubled me.”

  I took his hands, and the creature’s expression brightened. It was the first time I had seen a true smile from him, with no hint of malice or contempt.

  “I can change. I can make you happy. You will learn to love me in time. I know you will.”

  Despite myself, I felt a hint of compassion toward him. Were I still Justine, I might even be tempted to forgive him. Unfortunately for the creature, he had brought about Justine’s death, and I was all that remained of her.

  I put my hand on his chest, and he trembled at the close proximity of our contact. “Such a heart it is that our creator gave you.” I reached up and took his shaking face in my hands. We embraced as the low thunder sounded outside the building, and his lips brushed against mine.

  He didn’t see the knife until it was too late. I plunged it deep into his chest and dragged it the length of his torso. The creature’s yellow eyes widened with shock as I pulled the blade away, and when he touched the wound, his fingers came back covered in black blood. His mouth began to form a question, but I stabbed him again, and he let out a guttural cry of pain.

  The creature’s knees buckled, and he fell to his knees at my feet. I held him close, my hand on the back of his head, and drove the knife in a third time.

  “What are you doing?” he asked as I again pulled the blade free. He crawled away, leaving a trail of blood behind him.

  I followed, the knife held at my side. “Don’t worry—this won’t take long. I have a wedding to attend, after all.”

  He tried to push me away, but I grabbed his mane of black hair and held it tightly. “Look upon my face for the last time, you pitiful wretch. I am the monster you made. Did you truly imagine I could ever love you? After everything you’ve done?” I leaned in closer and whispered into his ear. “You repulse me. You were never anything to me other than a pawn.”

  “Persephone,” he pleaded, searching my face for a hint of sympathy. He found none.

  “No one will ever love you. You will be alone forever.”

  A howl sounded in the distance, and we both looked in the direction of the noise. I released my grip on the creature and rose, dropping the knife, which clattered to the floor. The creature dragged himself to a corner of the room, moaning as more howls echoed—closer this time.

  “That will be Constable Rengel,” I said, gazing down on the creature with disdain. “I told him how to find you. Even if you weren’t in your present condition, I imagine the soldiers would pose a significant problem for you. If my guess is right, the hounds won’t have any trouble finding your scent.” I glanced back at the impending night outside the open door. “Which means I should probably leave before they arrive.”

  The creature grasped at my foot as I turned to go. Tears were rolling down his face.

  “Pathetic,” I said, stepping over his hand. I walked outside and left him to his fate, the barking of the dogs echoing across the hills.

  Darkness had descended over Geneva upon my return. The tension was thick across the city. People hurried through the streets in groups out of fear for their own safety, while soldiers and night watchmen patrolled every corner. The city was a powder keg, waiting to explode. It was time to light the fuse.

  A crowd had gathered inside the tavern across the street from the inn, which was bathed in the glow of the moonlight peeking out from beneath the black clouds. Thunder reverberated in the heavens as I entered, closing the door behind me. I slipped effortlessly into the assembly, which was comprised of mostly men from the village. The mood was uneasy and chaotic. Everyone looked on edge.

  A man stood in front of the crowd, addressing the others. It was obvious from the cut of his clothes that he was a peasant, possibly a farmer. “Now two more are dead,” he said. “The child said she saw a monster kill her parents—a monster!”

  “My wife saw the beast!” someone shouted from the corner, beyond my sight. “She saw him watching her from the trees. Said he looked like the devil himself.”

&n
bsp; “We haven’t forgotten what happened last time,” another yelled above the others. “A child was murdered!”

  “The boy was killed by his nanny,” someone else said, and murmurs and shouts rang out from the crowd.

  The man addressing the others held up his hands to quiet the others. “It was one thing when there were just grave robberies to worry about. We have to do something about this.” He struck his palm with his fist to emphasize the point. Others nodded in agreement.

  “What would you have us do?” another demanded. “How can we find such a creature, if it even exists?”

  The hall again dissolved into chaos, until I stepped forward from the crowd. I wore a black mourning dress, which seemed appropriate for the occasion. Whispers spread through the room, but when I opened my mouth, the tavern fell silent.

  “It’s true,” I said. “I’ve seen him.”

  “And who are you?” a man called out.

  “My name is Penny Moritz. Justine Moritz was my cousin. I know what you’ve heard,” I said before they interrupted. “Justine never laid a hand on William. It was the creature.”

  “Why should we believe your claims?” someone asked.

  “As we speak, Constable Rengel and his men are in pursuit of the monster. But there is a worse monster still in Geneva—the man who created it. He is the same man who has been robbing your graves. He used the corpses to stitch a monstrosity together and give it life. It is this creature that has taken countless lives.”

  The hall was deathly quiet. The only sound was the growing thunder outside the walls. The faces that surrounded me were uniformly terrified.

  “Who would do such a thing?” a woman asked.

  “Victor Frankenstein,” I said, my voice dripping with venom. “My cousin served his family faithfully for years. That is how I know these things.” My voice grew loud and strong. “Frankenstein hides in his castle, conducting his blasphemous experiments. He thinks his wealth and status make him untouchable. If he is allowed to continue, he will birth more monsters—monsters that will kill all those you love.”