Chapter Text
You stayed out of Victor's way as much as you could. It was easy considering he all but locked himself inside his massive laboratory each day. In the few months of you living there with him, You hadn't stepped foot inside there once.
At night he retired to the bed you both shared. Victor was a man who never hid his ever changing emotions. Because of this, you have to be prepared for anything. He was either exhausted, wanting to dive into your arms or filled to the brim with energy, his hands exploring every inch of your body. He'd slip into the bed towards you like a serpent. Ready to devour you whole.
Today was different. Worrisome even. You felt it in the air. You did a bit of cleaning all afternoon to distract yourself. You planned on finishing up in the bedroom. As you dusted the dark wooden furniture pieces, you heard the light spattering of rain down the large windows. You sighed, maybe the rain would keep you company. Your husband sure wouldn't.
To keep from going mad, you decided to make yourself a cup of tea then nap on the chair near the window. You fell asleep rather quickly. Equal parts warm tea and rain soothing your mind.
There was a sharp pain deep within your stomach. You reach out, placing your hand on your abdomen hoping to soothe the source of the pain. The feeling of tough leather meets your fingers. You shifted your arms on your elbows. Attempting to sit up. Your heart drops when your eyes meet with what you could only call a beast. You couldn't scream. The thing was turned away from you, restricting your breathing.You stayed still as a stone staring at it. Slowly it turned its head. You expected a gruesome visage like the many depictions of the devil you've seen in books.
Lighting flashes, letting you catch a glimpse of its face. Instead of a demon, it had a shocking resemblance to your husband, Victor.
Thunder crashes. It rips you awake, making you sit up finally. Your open eyes dart around the darkened bedroom. The beast was gone.
You jump when you see the real Victor. Letting out a gasping breath. He passed like a ghost across the room with a candelabra in his hands. He placed it on the bedside table.
Pushing down the dread in your gut, you stand to greet him.
“Hiding are we?” He smirks.
You approach him, casually wrapping your arms around the dark bedpost.
“From you? Never.” You tease.
He begins to remove his clothes. Eyes locked onto yours. His body was such a sight. Lean muscles, smooth tawny skin. It was odd, you thought. A man who stayed in a laboratory all day had the figure of a capable Roman soldier. You place your hands on his chest.
“Hold me tonight, won’t you?”
You nodded with complete understanding. It’s a night when he wants silence and solace from you. You ready yourself under the covers. He follows making the bed dip even more. Adjusting himself over you, his ear met your bosom.
Your hands tangle in his black curls, nails scratching his scalp lightly.
Victor lets out a soft moan.
The two of you lay comfortably in the midnight hour. Except for the flicker of candlelight which danced across the room.
You didn’t even think of the nightmare. Until Victor gripped your abdomen tighter. Digging his head into it as well.
“The sound of your heart beat. It calms me.”
His voice cut to your core.
You tried to breathe, choosing to make conversation to avoid unease.
“The sound of your voice calms me.” You stare into the dimly lit room before you.
“Oh, does it now? Shall I recite something? A poem perhaps?”
You decline, deciding it’s far too late for poetry.
“Hm. A prayer then?”
You agree with enthusiasm. You needed a prayer for the horrors your subconscious conquered up. It was true, though. Victor's voice was divine. You could place it in a crowded street. With the way you left everything in your life behind to be his wife, the sound of his voice could guide you like a sheep to a slaughterhouse.
You recalled his voice booming in the lecture hall at the Royal College of Medicine. Your Uncle owned the tavern nearby. Victor dined often. Every meal he had with a glass of milk. You came around his table, and refilled his glass just before it became empty. The pair of you shared polite conversation. He was charming and handsome with such a brilliant mind. You believed he was the most impressive man you had ever met. He spoke about his upcoming tribunal with the council, eyes sparkling with a sense of danger. You hung on to his every word. When the day finally came you snuck out from the tavern, uncle’s yelling far behind as you dashed to the lecture hall.
He commanded everyone’s attention like an actor on a grand theater stage. All you could do was listen near the entrance, as women weren't permitted inside. The crowd of men enraptured by Victor didn't seem to mind your presence. After his rather rebellious exit, Victor made brief eye contact with you. His eyebrows raised in amusement when he noticed you. You could barely make out the smug face he made as he passed.
You hadn't seen him much after that. Until one evening, weeks later, he strutted into the tavern. Ever the daring and bold one, he asked you for your hand in marriage. Claiming he was too much of a fool to court you as a gentleman should.
“If you'll have me, I can offer you a quiet place in the country. Somewhere you can build a home.”
It all happened rather quickly. You accepted his offer and never looked back.
His quiet place in the country wasn't what you thought at all. It was a massive tower in the middle of nowhere. Victor had no maids or servants. He told you he’d take care of everything in his laboratory but the rest of the home was your responsibility. The estate was rather stuffy. Leaves littering every inch of the floors. Many things had to be done. You made a checklist and got to work.
The work went faster when you hummed to yourself. It kept you from almost breaking down. You pressed on. You had to. You were a wife and you had to make this place, this dank place in the middle of nowhere a home. For you and Victor. You think it’s starting to get to you. Such a sudden change of scenery and lack of human interaction wasn’t good. That was when the dreams started. He wasn't always a demon on your stomach, sometimes he was under your bed when you swept. He was by the window a couple times staring at you. You never told Victor about them or anyone. Your only solace was a journal you kept for a record of your everyday thoughts.
The last few words of a Hail Mary in your husband's husky tone brought your mind back from the past. As he finished, he asked if you would like to hear it in French as well.
You always blushed at his pride. He was often vocal about his superior intellect. But not tonight. Your eyes connected to his. He frowned at the stoic expression on your face.
“Where did you mind wander off to, darling?” His deep chestnut eyes bore into yours
“I'm just tired, that's all”
He breathed you in, placing a kiss under your ear.
“Victor?”
“Hhmm”
“Do you ever have strange dreams?”
He glared at you solemnly.
“All my life. I dream of dark angels calling my name. They sound just as my mother did.”
“Do the angels ever hurt you?”
“Not physically. I suppose they come as a reminder of her absence.”
He frowns.
“Is someone hurting you in your dreams, darling?”
“Yes.” You whisper.
“Who?”
Your eyes well up and a single fat tear falls down your round cheek.
“You are.”
Saying it aloud felt like a sin.
“You frighten me, Victor.”
His face hardened.
“Frighten you. How can I frighten you? I am your husband!” He spits at you. The words sting like venom.
“I never know what you’re doing in that laboratory of yours. My mind has created such monstrous things.” Your words tumble out like a scared child.
“I haven’t seen my uncle in weeks! I don’t like it here! It’s cold and dark. Oh Victor, I cannot stand it!”
You bury your head in your hands.
His hand touches your back. You jerk yourself away.
“Do not touch me!” You scream.
Eyes closed. Maybe this was a dream too. One you couldn't wake up from.
You didn't hear Victor leave, your sobs were the only sound filling the room. He left you alone. Back to his laboratory he went.