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Authors: Jack Wallen

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BOOK: Frankenstein Theory
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I stepped to the railing and squinted against the dim light. “Who are you, and what are you doing in my home?” I called down as quietly possible.

“It’s Igor, sir. I’ve returned with your subject.”

In an instant, my body was overtaken with a shuddering thrill. I rushed down the stairs, two at a time, and nearly crashed into the humpbacked little man.

“Where is he?” My voice was filtered through a jittery, nervous tension.

“In the carriage, outside. I don’t suppose you could help me retrieve him? He’s a bit heavy for my…” Igor’s head tilted toward the hump on his right shoulder. “Misfortune.”

“Of course, of course.” I gestured for the door. “Lead the way.”

Igor ushered us into the stormy night. Waiting in the courtyard was a hearse. The sight stole the breath from my lungs and filled them with the chill of fear.

The driver turned to me and tipped his hat. Beneath the brim, his face was almost impossible to make out. A bolt of lightning crashed down in the distance, adding a dance of light to the area. The driver glanced down at me and pointed, his face hidden by the brim of his cap, and called out, “Get that infernal thing from my carriage and be gone.”

I turned to Igor; he shook his head knowingly and pointed at the rear of the carriage. I followed him to see a rough-hewn coffin strapped tightly to the luggage boot.

Igor pointed to the wooden box. “Help me untie this.”

“What is in there, Igor?”

Igor chuckled under his breath. “You have to ask? It is that which you sent me to retrieve, Doctor.”

“Of course,” I heaved from my empty lungs. “Please tell me you didn’t arrive with another corpse.”

Igor grinned and patted the box. “Within these pine boards is a man very much alive in body, spirit, and soul. The ether, however, ensured he would remain fast asleep for the duration of the journey.” Igor nodded to the box.

Together we unstrapped the coffin and lowered it ceremoniously to the soggy earth. Igor slapped the buggy to signal the driver to spirit himself away, into the black night.

I turned to my assistant. “Are you sure about this?”

“About what, sir?”

“That you want to be part of my work?”

Igor lowered his goggles and wiped the rain from his face. “I’ve come this far, haven’t I? Why would I give up now?”

With that, we hefted the coffin and shuffled to the entry of the castle. I set my end of the crate down and pulled the door shut behind me. My heart continued beating a dangerous rhythm within my breast. What lay at my feet represented the future—my future.

Man and science would never be the same.

We resumed our path into the study and through the passageway that led to the laboratory. Igor’s rain-slicked soles slipped on the stone stairs, nearly bringing everything to a tragic end.


Careful,” I hissed.


What would you have me do, Doctor, take off my shoes before descending another step?”


Don’t be ridiculous, Igor. We’re almost at the bottom. Continue.”

It wasn’t until my feet touched down on the laboratory floor that I was able to breathe with any regularity. I instructed Igor to set the coffin beside the surgical table. The second the pine box was on the floor, I excused myself to return to the foyer. The marble floor was covered with muddy footprints. Should Elizabeth or Mother wake to see the mess, they would grow inquisitive. I had to do everything in my power to keep them in the dark.

With that in mind, I grabbed as many cleaning cloths as I could find and wiped the mud and rainwater from the floor. I was halfway through the task when I looked up to see Igor busy scrubbing from the other end. I offered a knowing nod; Igor returned the gesture.


Are you nervous, Doctor?” Igor whispered.


About what?”


The experiment.”

I stopped the menial task and sat up to stare at my associate across the room…his face covered in shadows. “To call our work an experiment is to imply a finite outcome. What we are doing is grounded in the infinite. Once that body is reanimated, there will no end of possibility…for we will have conquered death.”


‘In the beginning, God created the Heavens and the Earth.’”

I spat at the floor between us. “You dare quote the greatest tale of fiction in all of mankind to me, just as I am to challenge the very foundation of faith to usurp the throne of God?”


You confuse me, Doctor. If you do not believe in God, how can you assume to become a God?”

I mopped up the last of the mud and stood. “Though I do not believe in the construct, that does not mean I cannot embody the idea behind the belief. If man is so desperate to believe there is an almighty creator, I am more than willing to offer them such a being…in the flesh.”

Igor nodded and stood with me.


Shall we, Igor?”


We shall, Doctor.”

 

xXx

 

As we descended the stairs once again, a muffled pounding rose from below. Clearly the subject had awoken from his drug-induced slumber. Below me, I could see Igor’s shoulders and arms tense. I opted to not berate the man.


Dare I assume you bound and gagged the subject before stuffing him in a pine box, Igor?”

Without a word, Igor nodded.


Grab tools, so that we may free him from his coffin.”

Igor veered off in search of the necessary tools to pry the lid from the casket. I ventured close enough to the box to lay hands on the damp wood. The cries from within brought shudders of fear racing through my system.
What are you afraid of, Frankenstein?
I thought, most pathetically. I’d brought death to the living without hesitation. How could I possibly be frightened by a bound man beating against the insides of a coffin?

And yet…I was.

My only guess was the sheer magnitude of the unknown we faced. I was about to kill a man and attempt to return him to the cradle of life. Should my theory hold true, this man would traverse a great divide none had ever ventured into and out of.

Death. The concept was about to be completely demystified.

Igor returned with the tools and immediately began prying free the lid. The moans from within rose until the lid exploded from the box and the gagged man sat up.


Igor!” I shouted. “Stop him now.”

Igor picked up the hammer he’d only moments ago used as if it were an extension of his very arm and made to bring it down on the subject’s head.


No!” I shouted; my voice echoed about the room.

A startled Igor dropped the hammer. The subject stood from the coffin and tackled the hunchbacked man. The bindings on his hands and legs refused to allow much in the way of mobility. Out of desperation, he cracked his forehead into Igor’s. I had to stop this madness. The slightest injury to the brain would render the work useless.

I rushed the men and tackled the stranger, preventing him from further abusing the precious cargo within his skull. He flailed about in my arms, hopelessly struggling to wrest himself free of my grip. My hands held fast.


The sedative, Igor,” I shouted over the scuffle.

Igor rose to his feet awkwardly. He gave his head a great shake and made his way to the steel tray attached to the surgical table. On the tray lay two vials. Igor stole a glance over his shoulder and then held up both. “Which one, Doctor?”

I nodded toward the right arm and moaned loudly as the man flailed in my grasp. Igor snatched up a hypodermic needle and plunged it into the vial of sedative, pulled the plunger to draw in the liquid, and removed the needle. Igor grabbed the arm of the patient, jabbed the needle into the crook of his arm, and with much care and measure, depressed the plunger. Within seconds, the man’s struggle eased, and his body fell limp against me. I pulled myself out of the tangle and stood.


Help me lift him to the table. I want to begin the process immediately.”

Igor huffed. “Tonight, Doctor?”

I balled my hands into fists and leaned toward the squat man. Before I could speak a word, Igor cowered away and began pulling levers and pressing buttons to bring the transference device to life. As he did so, an explosion of thunder rattled every glass object within the room.

Before fear yet again managed to grip my heart, I set about preparing the patient for the procedure. The first step was to strap him down to the table and shave the flaxen hair from his head. With the head calf-skin smooth, I dabbed the points of entry with an alcohol and benzoin solution.

With that complete, I removed the bone drill and set in the largest bit I had.

Igor caught sight of the tool, and his rat-like eyes swelled to a more human diameter. “What would that be for, Doctor?”

I looked up to see Igor leaning in close. “The insertion of copper plugs into the skull will help to conduct electrical current directly to the brain.” I held up the tool. “With this, I will drill the holes so that I may more easily screw in the bolts. They must make contact with the brain and sit flush with the bone.”


Brilliant,” Igor whispered with a wince. He covered the sides of his head with gloved hands and returned to the massive machine that would bring the gift of electricity to flesh.

I carefully placed the tip of the drill on the right side of the skull, just above the ear, and slowly began the process of boring the hole. A fountain of scarlet washed over the metal and into a collection pan. The copper sting of the liquid burned my nostrils as I continued digging through bone. The crack and grind of the rigid organ sent chills into the meat of my arms. A soft
pop
indicated I’d traversed the entirety of the skull wall. I slowly reversed the crank to ease out the bit and, as the blood continued to pool, inserted the first bolt and screwed it into the outer edge of the skull. The copper head of the bolt sat smooth against the surrounding flesh…protruding just enough to make contact with the transference paddles.

Once the second bolt was in place, it was time to visit the Grim Reaper upon the subject.

I stood upright, my arms outstretched in a crucifixion pose. “Hand me the paddles, Igor.”

Igor placed the paddles into my hands with a gentle reverence and returned to the machine. He immediately pulled on the chain to throw open the skylight and raise the collection rods. Above our heads, a chaos of noise rumbled.

I bent over the secured man and placed the paddles against the copper bolts. As a mighty clap of thunder erupted overhead, I nodded to Igor, who quickly grabbed the generator wheel handle and began to crank with every ounce of strength at his command.


Faster, Mr. Fishka, faster!” I shouted.

Electricity pulsed throughout the space with a fear-inducing crackle. Rain pelted the skylight, and lighting glimmered against the surface of the water-slick glass. The Jacob’s Ladder sparked wildly, as if driven mad by desire. A brilliant blue bolt licked at the rods to send sparks of energy dancing over the roof. The power raced through the massive copper wires and into the transference device. A metronomic, dangerous tick rose and fell. I took in a deep breath to prepare myself for the onslaught.

The body on the table twisted and bucked against the leather bindings as the electricity f
orced
itself upon the man. Every muscle trapped beneath the flesh threatened to break bone and tear sinew. Another surge of power raced into the body, and the man snapped the strap at his feet.


Igor!”

Without hesitation, Igor left his station and dropped the entire weight of his unfortunate body onto the man’s legs.

A third strike sent a cascade of power surging through the copper and into the brain of the subject. He bucked one last time and then shuffled off his mortal coil.


Quickly, Igor. We must begin the reanimation process.”

I dropped the paddles, stripped my hands of the cumbersome gloves, and made my way to Father’s safe. As I did so, I barked out the necessary orders. “Replace the straps on the man’s legs and then prepare the transference machine. Set the governors to half power and prepare to exhaust your last bit of strength at the wheel.”

From the safe, I retrieved the sealed vials of elixir. Within the amber glass, the liquid life waited to instruct, to inform, to insist. “With this, my good man, I will inject life back into this lifeless man. In a moment, the Frankenstein Theory will have been proved, and the whole of the scientific community can bow to me as their God.”

I retrieved a hypodermic from the surgical tray, inserted the gleaming needle into the rubber stopper of the vial, and drew out the manna. “Igor,” I turned to the man with the pinprick eyes. “Are you ready to cheat death?”

Nervously, Igor nodded. “Yes, Doctor Frankenstein.”

With breath held, I inserted the needle into the back of the man’s neck…deep enough to enter the spinal column. Ever so slowly, my thumb depressed the plunger to send fate’s elixir flooding into the system of the corpse. Once the entire contents of the syringe was injected, I carefully removed the needle, replaced my rubber gloves, picked up the paddles, and called out. “Electricity, Igor. Let us make life!”

BOOK: Frankenstein Theory
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