Chapter Text
“Elizabeth, move away from it! That’s a monster!”
“No!”
Victor pushed himself up from the floor, staggering, slow and shaky, each movement sending pain through his battered body. Still, he kept the gun trained on them, hand trembling but steady enough to fire. He tried again and again to aim it at the Creature, but Elizabeth placed herself before it, her body the only shield between maker and creation, her arms flung wide in defiance.
Victor stared in disbelief. He could not fathom why she stood there - why she would risk her life for that… monster. Kindness, perhaps? But kindness had no place here, not toward something so grotesque, so abominable.
Elizabeth, whom he once believed he had a connection with, stood with her white wedding dress that was billowing in the cold wind that swept in through the open balcony doors. Her long tresses brushing against her pale cheeks; their calm, graceful movement was in dreadful contrast to the terror etched upon her features. She panted, breathless, eyes wide and afraid, yet she refused to falter.
“How can you call him a monster,” she cried, stepping fully before the Creature, “when it was you who made him so?”
A shot cracked through the air. Elizabeth flinched as the bullet shattered something behind them…stone and glass shattered, but she dared not look. She would not risk turning her gaze from Victor, not even for a heartbeat, lest he shift his aim back to the Creature.
The Creature let out a low growl, his great hands gripped her shoulders, ready to pull her out of danger. But she stood firm. She would not let Victor hurt him, no—not this time.
Victor’s voice broke into a feverish tirade. “There is nothing in this world I repent more than my own obsession! And that wretched thing dares to yearn for a companion? Can you conceive of it? A hideous abomination craving tenderness! relationships! Were it not so repulsive, I would laugh myself to madness! For God’s sake, if only it would die, be gone, and all would return to what it once was!”
Something so animalistic, so pained, spoke behind Elizabeth: “Even if I wish it as much as you… I cannot die. You have made me this way.”
The Creature yet again tried to charge and step around Elizabeth, but Elizabeth only held on to him tightly.
Victor limped closer and pointed the gun at the Creature’s head.
“Do not hurt him!” Elizabeth shouted sharply, her voice shaking with such desperation that no man should possess. “Please!”
Victor let out a ragged laugh, half sob, running his hand through his hair with the gun still clutched in his fist. It was then that William and the guests burst into the chamber.
If Elizabeth had been breathless before, she was naught but ruin now. Her nerves frayed, her heart a storm within her chest. The Creature, her poor Creature, was lost the moment the eyes of society beheld him. They did not understand and would never understand, she thought.
They would never see the gentleness, the quiet kindness that lay beneath that uncommon visage. Her mind flashed to a memory of a simple leaf placed in her hand, offered with unadulterated innocence. This being—no, this man, only sought what all men sought: understanding, companionship, mercy. And she would give him just that, even if the world condemned her for it.
“It hurt me!” Victor cried out to William. He was like a child complaining to his mother, flinging his arms wide, swaying where he stood.
“And it was only by your cruelty he was driven to it!” Elizabeth retorted, her voice fierce with conviction. “I know you, Victor.”
“What is happening here?! Elizabeth!” William gasped, panic and horror settling over him.
“It took her!” Victor shouted, urging the crowd to turn on and hurt the monster.
“Please,” Elizabeth pleaded to the newcomers, “no one is taking anyone.” Her resolve hardened; when William ran to her she stopped him by raising her arm in warning. “You will not take another step. Listen to me—” her gaze swept around the room. “All of you leave this room. The brothers will stay.”
The guests hesitated, some screaming at the glimpse of the Creature in the chamber, and some frozen in horror, their eyes fixed upon the towering figure of stitched flesh and death.
“Go!” Elizabeth cried.
It must have been the shock or the adrenaline that the crowd quickly dispersed, murmuring prayers and curses as they retreated. When Silence fell, it was heavy and suffocating.
“You must think me a fool,” Elizabeth began, her voice trembling yet growing steadier with each word. “For you to think I’d just gladly accept my uncle’s sudden death… But I know what wickedness you both conceal. You dare call him vile, yet it is you who wear the faces of men and bear the hearts of devils. Deny it if you can, but I know it was you who killed my uncle or led him to his early death. And you—” she turned her glare to William—“you who remained silent are his accomplice in deceit.”
“I didn’t kill the man! For God’s sake, Elizabeth, he was stupid enough to fall to his own death,” Victor snapped.
Their shock and horror were unmistakable, especially Victor’s brief, damning slip of the tongue, confirming everything Elizabeth had feared. They knew something and had chosen to keep the truth from her. Her inkling also had seemed impossible before, something she could never prove on suspicion alone, but that one careless mistake sealed her certainty. They had told her a letter had arrived saying her uncle was slain by thieves while traveling.
A quiet, heavy pause fell.
Elizabeth needed no further details. In her eyes, the brothers’ hands were already stained with blood.
Victor scrambled to mend his blunder. “He had syphilis anyway either way, he would not have lasted long.”
“Do not speak of my beloved uncle like that.” Her voice cracked. Hurt and betrayal carved itself deep into her chest and her eyes brimmed with tears that she refused to let fall.
“What assurance have I,” she continued, regaining herself, “that you shall not do the same to me? Is it money you covet? I am in far greater peril under your roof, – Elizabeth jutted her chin to the Creature– than I could ever be with him.”
“I know my uncle vanished into your laboratory—and you feigned ignorance, claiming he would return from who knows where.” Elizabeth’s voice shook, but her gaze did not waver. “But he never failed to write to me. Not once. His silence was unnatural.”
She saw the way William stiffened, the fleeting panic in Victor’s eyes. “I noticed everything—the unease whenever I spoke of him, the looks exchanged between you both. You forget: I see what others overlook. I thrive on the littlest details.” She drew in a breath, steadying her resolve. “So hear me well. If you value your precious Frankenstein name… if you fear being exposed as murderers before the world… you will give me what I demand. This marriage is no more. I shall leave. And he will come with me.”
A hollow, disbelieving laugh escaped Victor. “Murderers? Murderers! Do you hear yourself, Elizabeth? This is a ridiculous accusation.”
“Perhaps in the eyes of the magistrate and to you both it is an accident.” Her words sharpened, cutting through the room. “A fall, you said? And you watched him die and did nothing to help or inform me? You may as well have killed him with your own hands. If not murder, then you still lied—hid the true cause of death, removed and made evidences. It is an obstruction of justice and false reporting. Call it what you will, but innocence is not one of them.”
William stepped forward quickly, his voice dropping to a frantic whisper, as though approaching someone teetering on the edge of reason. “How can you honestly think I would let you go with that… monster, alone? Elizabeth, despite everything, we may not love as we were meant to, but I do care for you. I would never gamble with your safety. Please. Let us think sensibly. We could even… reschedule the wedding.”
“No.” Her refusal was immediate, unshaken. “My mind has never been unsound, despite what either of you believes. And my decision is final.”
The air seemed to chill. Victor leaned in, his voice a sharp, venomous hiss. “And when it goes on a rampage and kills? Will your noble conviction comfort you then?”
“I have no cause to do what you accuse me of,” the Creature thundered behind her, his voice cracking with raw anguish.
Elizabeth did not flinch. “I will take full responsibility. I will teach him everything he must know.”
“And where will you go?” Victor demanded, stepping closer, the gun still clenched in his hand as though it were the only thing keeping him upright.
“To my uncle’s estate,” Elizabeth replied. “The Harlander property. I am his sole kin, the inheritance is mine by blood. I have already received the letters and notice—I-I need only sign the papers.” She sobbed. “If you do not let us go, I shall see your crimes laid bare. I will not waste a moment before sending word to every paper in Geneva.”
William sank into a nearby chair and pressed his head into his hands, utterly spent. “This is your fault, brother,” he murmured bitterly. “You lied to me as well. You told me it was the monster who killed Harlander.” He let out a hollow breath. “Your madness has brought this ruin upon us. My marriage—my life—everything poisoned by your hands. I have long feared you, Victor. Feared the destruction that follows in your wake.”
William straightened slightly, his voice low but resolute. “And I am done. I choose neither you nor Elizabeth. If this is what she wishes… then I will let her go.”
Elizabeth exhaled, trembling with relief.
“But I will visit,” William added quietly, snapping his gaze back to her. “Each month, to see how you fare…to ensure that this Creature brings no harm. Deny me this, Elizabeth, and I cannot, in good conscience, let you go.”
“Very well,” she whispered. “Tomorrow—”
“No,” William cut in sharply. To Elizabeth’s surprise, he had never sounded so stern; throughout their courtship and engagement, she had always been the one with the final say. “You will leave in three days. And I do not want this Creature in my home. Let him find refuge elsewhere until then. I will lend you my carriage, and I will see you safely there myself.”
He made certain she could not refuse and left.
Not long after, Victor stormed from the room, still limping and cursing his brother for a fool.
A heavy silence settled once the brothers were gone. Only then did Elizabeth allow herself to collapse to the floor. The strength that had held her upright for so long dissolved at once. She felt weightless, emptied, undone.
A sob escaped her, then another, until all the fear, grief, and fury she had held inside poured out. Her breath hitched, her shoulders shook, and she wept without restraint.
The Creature knelt beside her. He was silent. His large, patchworked hands reached for hers with a gentleness that seemed impossible for one so wrought from death. The sight of it made her cry harder, this man comforting her, when it was his existence that had been despised and threatened.
He simply held on quietly and patiently until her trembling slowed and her sobs faded into unsteady breaths.
When at last she lifted her gaze, she found him watching her. And in those strange, sorrowful eyes, she saw an ache so vast it startled her. It was anguish belonging only to one who had watched everything he loved be taken from him. It was too human, and she could have sworn she heard her own heart breaking.
She wiped her cheeks and stood, still unsteady, then took his stitched hands in hers. They were cold, she couldn’t tell if that was simply what he was, or if the chill came from the world outside. She guided him to a chaise and coaxed him into sitting. He obeyed, silent, and unsure, his chin lifting as if to seem composed, though his hunched posture betrayed how tired he was. How hurt.
“You are alone now too…” he murmured at last. “And it is because of me. I am sorry.”
“Alone?” She shook her head. “You are with me, are you not?”
He hesitated. “But I am a monster.”
“Are you?” Elizabeth stepped before him, lowering herself until she was level with his eyes. Her hand came to rest beneath his chin, urging him to meet her gaze. “Tell me, why do you believe that?”
He looked into her eyes, and she saw her own reflection swimming in his bright dark eyes, lingering with tears. Elizabeth saw. She saw that something in him was wounded and its at its very core.
“It is how I look,” he breathed. “And simply what I am.”
“Is that what you believe or only what others have forced you to believe?” Her voice softened, yet her words remained unwavering.
A pause. Elizabeth pushed.
“Tell me truthfully: do you take joy in hurting others? Do you kill and sin for pleasure? Do you hunger for fear, for power, for the suffering of others–of innocents?”
“No.” He replied almost immediately.
“No?”
“No.” He shook his head.
“Then you are no monster,” she said firmly, “Cruelty makes a monster–not scars. Not skin. Not what ignorant men see and fear. I see your heart and soul and I know that darkness has no place in it.”
She released his chin, shifted, and smoothed her gown beneath her before sitting upon the floor before him. Her voice gentled though hesitant.
“Do you–? Do you remember me?”
Elizabeth regretted leaving him. She truly did. But by the time she ordered the carriage to turn back, it was already too late. She could say she tried to return, that she turned around for him…but what would it change? Nothing. She was still guilty of leaving him in Victor’s hands, even after she had already witnessed the cruelty inflicted upon him.
But no amount of relief or happiness she had ever felt could compare to that moment when the Creature breathed yes.
And then, slowly, almost clumsily shaping the syllables, he murmured her name. “Elizabeth.”
“Tell me what happened. I thought you were dead.”
The Creature flinched when she confessed she had thought him dead. A long silence stretched, time spent reliving memories he wished never to recall. But this woman, who had shown him nothing but kindness, had asked. And so he would give it.
“I did forget but eventually I began to remember… the beginning. You. Elizabeth…” He halted, as if he wished to let her name linger upon his tongue a moment longer, and then a rush of pain spilled from his lips. “And then Victor who had abandoned me.”
“I am sorry.”
“After the burning, I wandered the forests. I felt so, so cold. Then men found me and began to shoot at me. I was in so much pain that I fled, and in my flight I stumbled upon a home. It was warm and empty, so I took refuge in it and fell asleep.
I awoke when they returned, it was a family. Already knowing that I would not be welcomed, I hid behind their walls. There, I learned words: how to speak, how to read. And I longed to be part of them even if I had to remain unseen. So I became their invisible guardian.
They called me the Spirit of the Forest. And on occasion, they showed me small kindnesses… clothes, bread. And for a moment—a brief, fleeting moment—the world and I were at peace.
And then I made a friend. A companion.”
“Who?”
“An old man. His sight had failed him, yet his unseeing eyes were full of wisdom. He moved me.”
He had imagined many ways he might present himself to the old man at first. Would he fear him? Welcome him? Turn him away? He did not. He spoke to him. Embraced him. They talked, ate, and read together. It was the first time he felt someone had accepted what he was.
But still, he wished to know, who am I? Where do I come from? And then he remembered the name Victor. The blind man told him he should go to it.
And at last, he learned the truth. The horror of it. He understood then that he was nothing. A wretch. A blot. Not even of the same nature as man. This hurt clung to his mind; it had never left him.
The memories, all of them, returned. And then he saw it: a correspondence bearing the name Victor Frankenstein. And he knew where to find him.”
Elizabeth did not interrupt, though she noticed how he spoke of the old man in the past tense. Still, hope stirred in her chest. Perhaps she might one day meet the old man, invite him to her home.
“Where is the old man now?” she asked.
“He is gone.”
Elizabeth’s back straightened.
“Gone.”
“Yes. It was the wolves....I-It was my fault. I left him alone. When the memories returned, I went to find the laboratory to learn who I was. And when I returned…” He swallowed hard and then he wept.
Nevertheless the Creature’s voice continued and rose, but it was strained and unsteady. His hands moved erratically as his words unraveled, spilling out half-formed and incoherent.
“…the family found me with the old man, gone. They chased me. They killed me—yet I awoke once again. I—”
His breath hitched.
“I only went to Victor to ask that he make me a companion. A friend...even if it were one like me. I—I cannot live alone, Elizabeth.” He confessed, clasping his hands together.
Elizabeth rose at once and gathered him into her arms. Small though she was, she held him with all the strength she possessed, offering what comfort she could to the gentle giant trembling before her.
“I am sorry you had to endure all of this,” she whispered. “I am sorry you have known so little kindness. But I am here now. I will stay. And you will live with me—in a house.”
He drew back just enough to look at her, disbelief trembling in his voice.
“We will live… together?”
“Would you like that?”
He nodded.
“Yes. I would like very much not to be alone.”
“Then it is settled.”
She exhaled in relief, almost laughing through the remnants of tears. Releasing him, she turned, already thinking aloud.
“You will need proper clothes, of course…and a room of your own. And books, certainly. As many as you like. I shall write ahead… there is so much to be done…”
Elizabeth tapped a thoughtful finger against her chin, already planning.
Tears slipped once more down the Creature’s cheek not of pain. Not this time. Something warmer, fragile and new, bloomed where endless cold had once lived.
No, he was not meant for the world as it was. But perhaps, with her… he could learn to live in it. Not as a thing. But as someone. Someone who could be spoken to. Sat beside. Cared for. And who could give such things in return, as deeply as his heart wished. Someone who no longer needed to hide. Someone no longer condemned to loneliness.