Work Text:
His Son opened his eyes for the first time. The creature let out a loud wail akin to a newborn babe screaming to work its tiny lungs for the first time.
Victor Frankenstein felt something primal rise from deep within himself. “It’s alive. It’s alive! IT’S ALLIIVVEEE!!!”
The euphoria of accomplishing his Work after years of efforts. What a rush! Too bad it was sadly interrupted by the distant sounds of a crash. Victor ran to the nearest window to figure out why he heard the sound of splintering wood and angry cries. Looking down at the castle’s entrance, he saw a mob of villagers with torches and an assortment of weapons.
He knew this would happen. Upon his sponsor’s insistence of haste, Victor had to resort to grave-robbing for the necessary body parts. Without a doubt, members of that angry mob were surviving loved ones of the bodies he desecrated for science. The man in a top hat must have seen Frankenstein’s silhouette at the window, for he pointed in his direction and cried his family’s name. The villagers rammed a tree trunk against the wooden doors in earnest.
It was only a matter of time before he would have unwanted visitors before him. He turned back to his living Creation only to come face-to-face with a dark figure.
“Success!,” the person gasped.
The doctor got over his fear and recognized Dracula. “Oh, Count, it’s just you.” Frankenstein took a second to catch his breath from his friend’s sudden appearance. He hadn’t heard him arrive.
“I was beginning to lose faith, Victor. A pity your moment of triumph is being spoiled over a little thing like grave robbery.”
“Yes, yes, I must-,” he bounded away, “I must escape this place!” He raced around the lab as he gathered what he might need later.
“Where are you going to run, Victor? Your… peculiar experiments have made you unwelcome in most of the civilized world.” Was it his imagination or was Dracula’s voice projecting from somewhere impossibly high up? The scientist chose to ignore the mystery.
“I’ll take him away. Far away. Where no one will ever find him.”
“Oh, no, Victor.” Okay, this time the Count was a short distance behind him. Something weird was going on. Something...unnatural. “It is time for me to take command of him.” His friend’s words made no sense.
“What are you saying?”
The trunk he was stuffing his supplies with was suddenly slammed shut as Dracula appeared before him.
“Why do you think I brought you here? Gave you this castle? Equipped your laboratory?”
“You said you… you said you believed in my work.”
“And I do. But, now that it is, as you yourself have said, ‘a triumph…of science…over God,’ it must now serve my purpose.”
“What purpose?” The scientist's confusion slowly morphed into fearful understanding. Victor Frankenstein should have questioned if his sponsor and remaining friend had an ulterior motive for his Work. The explanation that came next was beyond his comprehension.
“Good god,” the doctor cried. He started to back away. “I would kill myself before helping in such a task.” He backed all the way into the surgical table containing his Son. The living creation made a noise from recognizing his Father being so near. Dracula stalked closer to father and son.
“Feel free. I don’t actually need you any more, Victor. I just need him." The Creation turned his head to Dracula at the sound of his voice. "He is the key.”
“I could never allow him to be used for such evil,” the Creation turned his head back to his Father as he spoke before turning back to Dracula as he said, “I could. In fact, my brides are insisting upon it.” Dracula moved around the table towards Frankenstein in a menacing manner. Victor needed help.
“Igor! Help me!”
From a safe distance away came the hunchback’s voice. “You have been so kind to me, Doctor. So caring and thoughtful. But he pays me.”
Victor backed all the way into a wall and saw his family’s coat of arms along with a weapon to use against this evil being. He grabbed the saber and pointed it to the one he once trusted as a friend. “Stay back!”
“You can’t kill me, Victor.” To the scientist’s utter shock, the Count moved forward and impaled himself. “I’m already dead.” Victor Frankenstein froze from shock and utter disbelief.
There came a snapping sound, but no one truly noticed it. Dracula further impaled himself on the sword still in Frankenstein’s hand. Then his teeth began to elongate into horrid fangs. Victor knew he was done for. His only regret is not protecting his Creation from falling into the wrong hands. He closed his eyes in fear and anticipation.
A noise of struggle came from the center of the room right before something struck Frankenstein’s head. Blackness overwhelmed him.
Frankenstein’s creation hurled a table at the Other Man. The one who tried to hurt his Father was thrown into the giant fireplace while Father dropped to the ground unconscious. The aim was slightly miscalculated seeing how Victor Frankenstein was accidentally struck on the head.
The creature carefully lifted his Father from the ground and followed a third man out of the room. Carrying his Father was a struggle. The newly-born being was still adjusting to his strong yet awkward body. He made it outside.
A voice cried out, “Victor Frankenstein!”
The Creation continued walking/hobbling away from the castle. He knew his Father needed to be safe. There! A building a short distance away. He was at the door within a few short minutes, but he wasn’t as fast as the gathering of people right behind him. The creature still made it to the door first, which he promptly kicked open, and moved as quickly as he could to the top of the building. That seemed to be the safest direction at this point.
He found himself at the top of the building, Father still safe, though unconscious, in his arms. Flames licked at his feet as the building caught on fire. The crowd surrounded him, yelling at him and his Father in anger. All that Frankenstein’s creation could wonder was, “Why?”
The angry mob grew silent at his cry.
He begged again: “WHY?”
The sound of breaking glass was heard. It came from the castle. The creature recognized the Other Man in that dark silhouette flying through the night sky. The figure was joined by three more dark shadows. “Vampires. Run!” someone cried. The mob scurried away.
Someone groaned; the body in his arms slowly moved. “Son?” A hand caressed his face. It was his Father! He lives! The creation felt a great relief that was short-lived as the floor beneath him gave way from the fire. Father and Creation plummeted to the ground below like fallen angels. Then all went black.
He opened his eyes. It was dark, wherever he was. Victor groaned as he lifted his sore body from the cold, hard, uneven floor. He let his eyes adjust to the darkness. The sound of dripping water in combination with the cool dampness in the air told him he was in a cave.
Frankenstein carefully stood up to get his bearings. That’s when he felt a hand grasp his shoulder. Victor startled away, thinking it was the monstrous Count Dracula. No. Not the monster. It was his living Work that stepped back in remorse. His Son looked at him. The scientist stared right back. Words escaped them both.
With caution, the good Doctor slowly approached the creature. He had to make the first move. After all, he brought the creature, his Son, his Work incarnate, into this world and he had to prove he could be trusted.
Victor was now close enough to touch his living Work. Ever so slowly, Frankenstein lifted his hand to the dead-now-living flesh of his child's face and held it there.
“Hello, son.”