Frankenstein Lives Again (The New Adventures of Frankenstein) (9 page)

Gort continued to drive the horses along the unpaved road. A sign soon told the two men that Ingolstadt was not a very long drive away.

“And zombies,” the Professor went on exuberantly, gesturing as he spoke, “walking dead men, once as alive as you or I, now wandering the Earth with no wills of their own and existing only to obey the evil commands of their voodoo masters! Witches, my friends, and warlocks, conjuring up all manners of supernatural evil from the flaming pits of Hell!”

The man who had been watching Dartani and his crowd from the town hall window was now bolting down the street as fast as his stocky body would permit.

Gort’s head turned as the man approached the wagon pushing his way through the enthralled crowd. The townspeople, noticing who the man was, parted, letting him pass between two columns of humanity. The man cast one look at the leering skeleton and the half-naked victim, then coughed loud enough to command the group’s attention.

“Harrummphf!” he announced himself. “Now see here! What is the meaning of—?”

But his words were suddenly drowned out by the amplified voice of Professor Dartani:

“Ghouls . . . feeders on human corpses, devourers of the rotting flesh of your loved ones!” Dartani’s words were reaching a fevered intensity as he continued, “Even Satan himself, who — “

“I say, you there!” shouted Mayor Krag, finally tugging at the Professor’s pant leg.

Dartani shook his foot, trying to free it of this meddlesome intruder.

“Torture devices! The Iron Mistress and the rack, both used to make people confess to crimes too heinous to describe here on a public street!”

But even as he prepared to pitch more of his show’s promised attractions, the Professor noticed that the crowd was now paying less attention to him and more to the roly-poly man who was standing directly below him. Dartani set aside the megaphone to gaze with burning eyes at the mustachioed man.

“And to what do I owe this undignified interruption?” said Dartani, his voice cracking.

“Undignified? Why, how dare you call me – ?” Mayor Krag was silenced when he realized that the Professor’s unsightly face was looking right at him. “Here, here,” said the town’s most prominent official, “what do you think you are doing in my street?”

“Doing?” replied Dartani in his most sarcastic voice. “What does it look like I’m doing? Why, I am promoting my show.” He made a stiff yet proud gesture to the wagons. “And what do you think you are doing, my overfed friend?”

Krag’s eyes widened. “Why — why, I am putting an end to all of this nonsense. That’s what I am doing! And I am also going to see you and all of this junk out of town, that’s what!”

Dartani grinned, looking somewhat like a split and dried-up orange. He made sure that his voice sounded as scratchy as possible. “You are? And just who are you to think you have such power, my overweight friend?”

Krag’s face flushed, his cheeks like cherries, as he saw that citizens were waiting for his reply. I am the Mayor,” he said, taking his most dignified stance and placing his thumbs in the pocket of his vest. “Mayor Krag. That is who I am. And my power is my authority. And I say that cannot set up your chamber of horrors here in Ingolstadt.”

Dartani noticed that Gort’s huge fists were clenching. He touched his servant’s shoulder and shook his head slightly. That as all that Gort needed to remain calm, at least for now.

“There is nothing offensive about my show,” said Dartani, speaking loud enough to be heard by the entire crowd even without the use of his megaphone. “My torture devices are but reproductions of the originals and are non-functional. The vampires, zombies and other creatures are no more than dressed-up store window mannikins. I bring to your town nothing more than vicarious thrills.”

“Our town is fed up with horror,” said Mayor Krag. “Many years ago, Ingolstadt suffered its own horror. We do not care to suffer anymore, even to be reminded of it by your artificial horrors.”

The Professor noticed the collective look of terror that had suddenly appeared on the faces in the crowd. They were most certainly remembering or thinking about something of which he was not even aware. He wondered what recollection, what abomination that was far worse than anything his traveling show could provide, could arouse in them such fear. Already he was vowing to learn the answer, after he had dealt with the pompous Mayor.

“Bah!” said Dartani. “You speak in riddles. Perhaps you actually believe in the monsters depicted in my show?”

“What I believe or do not believe is not the issue here,” Krag returned gruffly. “But we have had more than our share of misfortune in the past and want no reminders of that in the present. There is already too much fear, too much tension, too much dread of every shadow. We don’t need your vampires and ghouls and whatnots to bring us anymore nightmares.

“But —" Dartani began to protest.

“I’ll not hear another word about it,” said Krag. “The matter is officially closed. I am the Mayor here. And I say that you will pack up your ghouls and torture racks and leave our town, unless you would prefer setting up your exhibits in our very fine jail.”

The Professor saw Gort grow tense suddenly at the Mayor’s mention of the jail, but ignored him. He said, in fact, not a word. But his green eyes were burning like a cat’s, searing directly into the eyes of Mayor Krag.

And though the town official tried his best to avert his vision from the Professor’s, he was caught — held rigidly — in what appeared to him a glow of greenish light. Krag was not knowledgeable in the realities of psychic bonds. All that he knew was that something now existed between him and the showman, something so potent that the gathering of townspeople, the circus wagons, even the town of Ingolstadt itself were blurring, throbbing, vanishing to some unknown netherworld.

To Krag, all that existed was himself and Professor Dartani!

Then Dartani also disappeared, leaving behind only those two fiery orbs floating in a sea of shapeless vibrations.

As the eyes faded away to nothingness, a strange, inexplicable pressure began to crush the Mayor’s brain. His body perspired and shook until at last he desperately threw his hands to his face and hysterically rubbed his eyes.

After an eternity, his vision began to refocus.

When again he saw his beloved Ingolstadt, there was no sign of Dartani, his oafish and silent assistant, the black stallions or the two Asylum of Horrors wagons.

“Are you all right, Mayor Krag?”

The Mayor looked at the townsman standing beside him, then at the crowd of people who had been watching the cadaverous pitchman, but were now only concerned with himself.

Krag felt as though some unknown power had taken hold of his vocal cords, but that the force had finally released him. “What happened to me?” he said, relieved.

“You must have been standing there for at least five minutes,” said the man next to him. He was Heinrich Franz, whom the Mayor had known for most of his life.

“What?” said Krag with astonishment. He looked at his old friend incredulously. “Five minutes? But that is . . . utterly impossible!”

Whether or not it was, something had happened to him and the Mayor could not explain it. Then he turned, hearing the sound of distant wagon wheels. He could see the two circus wagons passing beneath an archway that led outside his town. For a moment, the Mayor considered running after the two wagons, to demand an explanation and most probably toss these two foreigners into a jail cell.

But the crack of a whip made the two black horses accelerate into a trot, pulling their burdens faster. Before the Mayor could take a step, Professor Dartani’s Asylum of Horrors had left the archway behind and was already rolling to merge with the verdant splendor of the forest.

CHAPTER IX:

A New Frankenstein?

When the old train crawled to a stop in the quaint German station, Dr. Burt Winslow was greeted by a small crowd of people.

He pulled open the freight car door and looked out from the darkness. There were approximately thirty-five townspeople standing at the end of the depot platform. None of them seemed to be smiling and a few carried picket signs with words scrawled hastily in English:

We Don’t Want Another Monster-maker!

Burt Winslow —Leave Ingolstadt!

Dr. Winslow — The New Frankenstein!

Yet, somehow Winslow’s gaze was drawn away from the group of scowling people and to a beautifully smiling face and shining mass of auric hair. Lynn was flanked by two men in gray work clothes, the two that he had arranged to be here waiting at the station, but he was concerned now only with the young woman. Her finely featured face and her trim yet shapely body seemed to be more perfect than he had fantasized during his lengthy journey back to Europe.

Winslow was sorry that Lynn had to be subjected to the villagers’ signs of protest. But, even though it was obvious, by the gap separating them, that the townspeople were also shunning her, the woman did not seem to mind. Her eyes enlightened the moment that she saw him and exclaimed joyously, “Burt! Oh Burt!”

“Lynn!” he returned, jumping from the boxcar.

They rushed toward each other, meeting somewhere between the train and the grumbling crowd. Immediately they embraced and Winslow crushed Lynn against him, feeling electrified as he felt her firm body press against his and smelled the familiar ambrosia of her favorite perfume. He let his face slides against the smoothness of her cheek. For a brief eternity, they looked longingly into each other’s eyes. Then, without a word, the two lovers, separated for so long, joined their lips in a passionate kiss.

When at last they parted, Winslow could hear that the complaints of the crowd had grown louder.

“Burt,” said Lynn, “you’ll never know how much I missed you. And I’m sure you’ve got so much to tell me.”

“I will, darling,” he answered. “But later. Right now, I think we have some company to deal with.”

The scientist had just noticed that Mayor Krag was also standing on the platform. The official’s roundish face bore the same expression of animosity that had been there when last he and Winslow met. His stance gave the impression of an army general ready to lead his soldiers on a charge against the enemy.

Holding Lynn’s thin waist and drawing her close to him, Winslow boldly walked toward the group. “Might as well bring this out in the open,” he said to Lynn almost in a whisper. 

Self-consciously the heavyset Mayor cleared his throat.

“What’s all this for?” asked Winslow. “Mayor Krag, is this show really necessary?”

“I will not welcome you back to this town,” Mayor Krag replied with a cough. “And, as you can see, neither will my people. I could not prevent them from greeting you with their signs. And I will not deny that I agree with what they have written on them. But neither they nor I wish to see another Frankenstein tragedy here in Ingolstadt.”

“You really think there’ll be another?” Winslow asked coldly.

“We have eyes!” shouted a voice from the crowd, after which Winslow saw a wave of the protest placards.

“The crates!” yelled another hostile voice. “We have seen your crates, you would-be Frankenstein!”

“The crates?” asked Winslow. 

“The crates,” repeated Krag. “We have all seen your boxes which were driven up to the Frankenstein castle. Crates with your name on them. Crates that were labeled so that it is no secret that they contain laboratory and electrical materials.”

“So?” said Winslow. “Is it illegal in this town to buy equipment like that? Does that make me another Frankenstein? As you know,
Herr Mayor
, I am a scientist. And scientists tend to experiment, don’t they? And I’d be willing to bet that most scientists who experiment don’t become would-be Frankensteins. I’ve bought property in your town and plan to live here for a while. Naturally, I have carried my experiments from the United States to Germany. I paid for that equipment and I can show you the receipts if you doubt me. I’ve broken none of your precious laws and don’t intend to do so.”

“I did not accuse you of breaking the law, Dr. Winslow,” said Krag. “What disturbs me and my fellow countrymen here is the purpose of that equipment... and the nature of your experiments. I can think of but two reasons for bringing such materials into a place with the demoniac reputation of Castle Frankenstein.”

“And those are?” Winslow responded smugly.

"Either you are creating a new living horror in that haunted palace, or you are bringing the original Monster back to the streets of Ingolstadt. Whichever you plan to do, if you succeed I hope your soul will be forever damned to the devil’s fire!”

Winslow felt Lynn’s body suddenly tense. He grasped her nearer, hoping to reassure her that the present situation was under his control.

“What I plan to do with my own legally owned property is my own business,
Mein Herr
,” he replied with force. “When I break your laws, then come with your pickets and your gendarmes and I’ll submit to arrest. Until then, stay off my back...  and my property. Gentlemen, good day!”

That having been said, Winslow contemptuously turned his back on the assemblage and said not another word. He could hear them mumbling and groaning behind him. And when he took Lynn by the hand and walked with her back toward the freight car, they seemed to become even more agitated. But he continued to ignore them.

Winslow looked back as he and Lynn reached the freight car noting that the crowd was beginning to disperse, and that Mayor Krag, having failed in his attempt to intimidate him, was joining the group.

The two men that Winslow had previously hired were waiting. They had unsavory expressions on their worn faces and Winslow admitted to himself that he was fortunate to find anyone in this town that would help him. He promised to pay them enough, he thought, far more than the job was worth, the money discussed obviously having the power to exorcise their superstitions.

“Can we
mach schnell
, Dr. Winslow?” one of the men asked. “We have other duties to attend to besides yours.”

“Sure,” answered the scientist. “Come on.”

Winslow pointed toward the ominous appearing wooden crate in the box car and the two German workmen, following the American’s instructions, brought it down to the ground. They carried the heavy box into their panel truck, which had been parked alongside the railroad station. Winslow noticed the look of apprehension that had crept into their eyes and wondered, given what Krag had just said, if they suspected the true nature of what they carried.

As Winslow helped Lynn climb into the back of the truck where the crate had been placed, he noticed that a few of the townspeople were watching their progress from behind a wall on the station. He saw one of the men cross himself and heard him say, “The Frankenstein curse is back upon us again. May Almighty God in heaven protect us all. For on this day, no one will be safe in their beds.”

“It looks like a coffin,” Winslow heard a husky woman in a peasant dress reply to the man, “a coffin big enough for a giant –”

“Or,” said the man, “a Monster!”

Whatever else might have been said was suddenly drowned away by the sound of the truck’s engine. Winslow shut the door to blot out the images of the depot and its small group of spies. Then he felt vehicle begin to roll.

Lynn cringed as she cast a glance in the direction of the crate then moved closer against him, her breast pushing firmly against his side.

“Don’t worry,” he cautioned her almost in a whisper. “There’s nothing to fear.”

“I hope you’re –”

But her words were soon muffled by the force of Winslow’s kiss.

* * *

Dark clouds were assuming grotesque shapes in the sky over Castle Frankenstein.

The panel truck drove slowly over the castle’s old drawbridge, then stopped.

Winslow wanted to make some kind of an announcement about the Monster finally returning to his place of “birth,” but thought it best to keep his feelings to himself, at least for the present.

The two men that the scientist had hired did as they were instructed, taking the crate out of their truck, as Winslow and Lynn stepped out and onto the patio stone where the equipment boxes were still waiting.

“Now be extremely careful with that,” Winslow warned the two men, who carried the box as if it were some priceless treasure, brought it inside the castle and carefully set it down just outside the laboratory door. Then they carried in the other crates, setting them near the first. “That’s far enough. Thank you very much.
Danke
.”

For a few moments, the two men gazed at the portentious oak door that barred their entrance into the adjoining chamber, wherever that might lead.

“I said that’ll be all. Here...”  Winslow reached into his pocket to give them a handful of American paper money that served as both a bonus and a bribe to speed them on their way.

When the panel truck started up and began its trip back toward town, Winslow creaked shut the front door of the castle, the sound echoing through the stone-walled building, then bolted it from the inside.

Lynn was ready to embrace him again, when he stopped suddenly to bask in his surroundings.

“Back at last!” he exclaimed.

The young woman smiled understandingly, then gracefully walked up to him, hoping that Burt would again take her in his arms and, perhaps on the spot, make passionate love with her. Instead, the scientist turned toward the crate, his face beaming with enthusiasm.

“I’ve got it, Lynn!” he roared with triumph. “After all I’ve spent, after everything I’ve been through, I’ve got it. Inside crate! The actual remains of Frankenstein’s monster!”

She had seen the man like this before, yet never to such degree of enthusiasm. There was no use in trying to arouse amorous feelings now, at least not until he burned away his present flame of excitement. Lynn had no present recourse but try and work up a modicum of interest in Winslow’s proclaimed conquest. Undeniably she too had waited to see the thing in the box. Her interest drew her nearer the crate.

“You are going to show it to me, aren’t you, Burt?” she asked “I have, after all, been waiting here for quite a long time.”

Winslow grinned. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he replied. “Certainly, certainly, Lynn. Come on. I’ll show him to you. But first you’d better take a deep breath. He isn’t a pretty thing to look at.”

“I never expected him to be. Remember, I too read Mary Shelley’s
Frankenstein
. Her description of him wasn’t too appealing.

“He’s worse than she described,” said Winslow.

“I’m not a schoolgirl anymore,” she said, laughing. “I think I can take it.”

“All right then,” said Winslow, rushing into the laboratory to return moments later with a crowbar. Hastily he began to pry the lid off the crate. Then he pushed aside the wooden lid, the hinging nails squeaking loudly as they were bent aside.

“Okay, Lynn, if you can stand him, take a look,” he said.

Cautiously, her face no longer smiling, Lynn stepped up to the box, her blue eyes wide with anticipation, and peered in to look for the first time upon its contents. Even though the gas mask was still attached to the Monster’s face, there was enough of the yellowish skin, the red scars and matted black hair to affect her.

She could feel herself beginning to faint, only to be caught by Winslow, who drew her away from the box.

“I’m... all right,” she told him, sitting down in a chair. “You’re right, Burt. He is worse than I ever expected. Just... took me by surprise, I guess.” She smiled and gazed up at the man. “But don’t worry, I promise, now that I’ve seen him, never to faint. Okay?”

The scientist nodded. “Try not to look at him as a Monster. Remember that he is not responsible for his physical appearance. Despite the way he looks and what he is called, this being is a man. His only difference is in the fact that he was created by another man and that Victor Frankenstein imbued him with great strength and immortality. Try to regard him as a miracle of science and the first of a new species, as I regard him.”

“I’ll try,” she replied, looking from Winslow’s face back to the wooden box. “I’m sorry. I guess I just overreacted. I just didn’t expect him to look... quite that imposing.”

“Don’t worry,” he answered. “You’ll get over his looks in due time.  Remember, that you and I have work to do. It’s just the two of us now, with a big job, and we can’t rely on anyone else around here for help.”

Without another word, Burt Winslow grasped the crowbar and started to uncrate the other boxes. He tore into one of the wooden containers and exposed a section of a generator.

“Victor Frankenstein used lightning, some primitive electrical devices and chemical injections in his experiment,” said Winslow, cutting away the rest of the crate to expose the complete generator. “That was the best that could be had during his day. But I’ve forsaken the lightning in favor of my own. With my equipment, there’ll be no need to wait for an electrical storm.”

Moving at rapid pace, the scientist continued to open the boxes of electrical and chemical apparatus. Soon Lynn had taken up a second crowbar to help Winslow strip away the pieces of wood to expose the gauges, wire, glassware and other materials underneath.

But even as Lynn worked, her face registered her curiosity.

“Tell me, Burt,” she finally said, turning her attention to him. “Just why are you doing all this?”

Winslow paused for a second, setting aside a supply of electrical wire, then stared up at one of the walls. He seemed to be seeing something which was not there.

“Why?” he said somberly. “I never really thought of that too much. Maybe if I did, I wouldn’t have brought this project this far. I suppose it’s like the mountain peak that has to be climbed because it’s there. Except for Victor Frankenstein himself, no one has ever performed the experiment I hope to perform in this laboratory.”