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“So you're sweet on the Doctor, right?”
You almost spit out the bite of your sandwich. “What?”
Emily, the lab tech seated across the table from you, snickers. “Boy, that got a reaction. Now I know you are.”
“What are you talking about?” You glance back and forth to see if any of the other techs who you’ve joined at the table for lunch were listening to that exchange. A couple of your friends, seated on either side of you, are also tittering.
“You’re not really subtle about it,” Tina chimes in from your right side. “When she walks in the room you’re always like,” she puts her fork in her salad bowl and folds her hands against her cheek in an imitation of a lovesick cartoon character, “oooh, yes Doctor, right away Doctor—”
“Everybody says that!” you say indignantly. “Even Ygor!”
“Well, Ygor's probably got it bad for her too,” adds Marcus from your left side. “I have a bet going with Katie from the storehouse shop. She owes me twenty bucks if anyone catches the two of them kissing.”
“Yeah, so that just proves it even more,” Tina concludes.
“It doesn’t—”
“Relax,” Emily says. “We’re just ragging on you. Geez, your face is so red.”
You just shake your head and keep eating, deciding not to dignify this conversation any further. It took you a bit to get used to how things work at Frankenstein Manor. The environment here is a lot like a friendly study group you joined for an organic chemistry class in college, mixed in with a dash of summer camp— though the work is tough and the hours are long, you’re all here to work towards the same goal, and everybody gets along well. You’re all here because you believe in Victoria’s mission, or at least believe it’s possible to earn a paycheck here without getting killed. A side effect of that is that just about everyone here is an oddball who’s into working with monsters and corpses, which lends itself a lot to the camaraderie. It really feels like most people you work with are your friends or could be. Unfortunately, the other side of the coin is that people are a lot more comfortable getting into each other’s personal business.
Marcus fills the moment of silence by saying, “So I heard the Gill-man’s tank in the catacombs is all ready to go. God, it’s gonna be a bitch to move him. Hope I don’t get put on that team.”
“I might just call in sick the day we transport them all,” Tina sighs, picking up her fork again. “I can paint fake vampire bite marks on my neck or something.”
“We’re moving them all in one day? I thought we’d just bring ‘em to the catacombs as their cells get finished. Otherwise we’d all be crowded in the holding cell and—”
“Guys, we’re on a ten-hour shift,” you cut in. “Can we talk about something besides work?”
Emily leans forward onto her hand. “Sure. Why don’t you tell us what you love so much about the Doctor? Did you hear her talk about her great-great-grandpa and decide you needed a piece of that?”
“Or a piece of that riding crop?” Marcus adds, and the three of them burst into laughter.
You just roll your eyes. No need to add fuel to the fire. It's not like they're wrong anyway. In fact, they have no idea how right they are. The truth is that you actually do love Victoria— but nobody knows that it’s mutual. You and she have been together for a few months now, and things have progressed enough that you join her in her bedroom every night, and hold her hand or sit in her lap as she works in her study, and leave love notes inside her favorite books, and plenty of other things that nobody has caught on to even after this long. It’s exciting, sneaking around like this, like being a teenager and falling in love for the first time again. But it’s also somewhat uneasy. Victoria gets tense when you bring up the topic of getting rid of the secrecy, so you’ve largely stayed away from it and just enjoyed your time with her. You do have to wonder, though, how long this can all last. It doesn’t exactly have to be the old cliche of shouting your love from the rooftops, but it would be nice not to have to hide anymore.
“Yeah, well, at least she’d call me back if we hooked up,” you say, and then look pointedly at Emily. “Speaking of, how’s that guy you met from the village? Jacob? You ever hear back from him?”
“Oh, shut up,” Emily says scornfully, and then the conversation moves on and you’re all laughing together.
—————————————
That night in Victoria’s bedroom, you replay the conversation from earlier in your head as you watch your lover brush her hair in front of her ornate mirror. “What are you thinking about so intently?” she asks, and you realize your eyes have unfocused and you’ve been staring at the wall.
“Oh, I just…” You think for a second about whether you really want to have this conversation right now, but it’s as good a time as any, right? You take in a deep breath. “Look, I don’t wanna start a whole big thing, but I’m just thinking about how we’ll let everyone know about, you know, us.” You glance over at her, and she pauses for just a second before returning to her methodical brushing. “I’m not saying we have to make a big announcement or anything, but we can’t keep hiding it forever, you know?”
“Yes. I know.” She’s still staring ahead into the mirror, her hands continuing their work. “Truthfully, it just hasn’t been a priority.”
“Okay, ouch.”
“You know what I mean.” She turns her eyes to meet your gaze in the mirror, and the look in them is sincere enough to make up for her bluntness. “There’s been so much to do. Preparing the catacombs, renovating the manor. It’s been so much work just to get all of these people and monsters in one place, never mind the training and organizing and everything else.”
“Yeah, okay, that’s fair.” Knowing that the single-minded determination that you love so much about her is the root of her hesitation, rather than anything to do with you, makes that a bit easier to swallow.
“And, well,” she’s back to looking away from you, “there’s not much of a precedent for this, is there? I am still your boss, after all.”
Ah, she doesn’t know how to handle the social dynamics of it. That really clicks it into place, and you wonder why you didn’t think of that earlier. Of course she’d have trouble working out what to do in an interpersonal situation that would be unusual for just about anyone. “Well, I can figure out some way to break it to everyone. It’s not like anything has to change, right? I’m still a lab tech just like everyone else.”
“That’s just the thing. I can’t afford to have any discord between any of you.” She runs a wet cloth over her face, the final step in her nighttime skin care routine, as she talks. “I can’t have people complaining about me giving you special treatment, or anything else that would cause petty squabbles. This whole operation needs to work seamlessly.” It’s true, you can think of one or two people who would have something to say if they thought Victoria was letting you off easy for personal reasons. “Do try to understand.”
“Yeah, okay.” There’s still an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach; you can’t shake the thought that it isn’t just business she’s worried about. “I guess it could make you look bad too, huh? ”
She makes her way to the bed, sits next to you, takes your hand. The corners of her eyes crinkle when she looks at you. “It isn’t like that. I’m… glad to have you here. There’s just so much else I have to handle right now.” Your heart softens, and you give her a little smile that she returns. This is your Victoria, who says exactly what she means, who doesn’t waste her time. You just have to trust that she’s being honest and that she’ll find a way through this eventually. She will, right? Of course she will.
“I mean, it makes sense,” you say casually to break the tension. “I do get a lot of privileges already.”
Her brow furrows a little. “Like what?”
“Like this,” and you lean over to kiss her, your lips lingering on hers as they curve upwards again. Suddenly she doesn’t look so worried anymore. “So, people would be right. I am pretty lucky.”
“I can’t argue with that.” She moves over to arrange herself under the blanket, and you turn the bedside lamp off as she stretches and sighs, then wraps her arms around you when you snuggle up next to her. “Good night, darling.”
“Good night,” you echo. She drifts off quickly, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
———————————————
“CONTAINMENT ANOMALY. CONTAINMENT ANOMALY.” The blaring siren and the booming robotic voice jolt you from your sleep, your fight or flight response kicking in before your brain is fully aware of what's going on. By the time you’re sitting up, Victoria is already grabbing her crossbow from the wall. “FOLLOW EVACUATION PROCEDURES. THIS IS NOT A DRILL,” the voice continues to blare over the loudspeaker. Fear freezes you in place as you begin to realize what's happening. Someone or something is trying to break out of the holding cell.
Victoria strides over to you and yanks you upward by the arm. “Come on. Move. Get out.” She means you should follow the evacuation procedures, head to the catacombs with everyone else and use the secret exit to a place in Darkmoor where you stand a better chance of staying hidden. She throws you just one backward glance before taking off running down the hallway. You stand up slowly, as if in a trance. You've done enough evacuation drills to know exactly what you should be doing right now. You know how to save your own skin. Instead, your body acting purely on instinct, you begin to follow her.
Perhaps as a way to distract you from the very real possibility of imminent death, your brain picks up on the small details as you follow her through the dark hallway and past her portrait. The floor is cold beneath your bare feet. Someone is yelling in the distance. The full moon shines through the windows to illuminate the great room, and the blue energy running through the wires above your head illuminates the rest of the rooms that you're rushing through, the study and workspaces and trophy room. In front of you, Victoria's long hair is disheveled and sways back and forth as she runs. She looks like a heroine in some gothic horror movie, running through these dark rooms in her flowy nightgown. The sight is a bit surreal, dreamlike. Maybe this really is just a dream. Maybe you'll wake up next to her and get to tell her about the troublingly realistic nightmare you had.
No such luck. When you arrive at the holding cell, the door is already open and a scene is already playing out before you. The tech who’s supposed to be guarding the cell is nowhere to be seen. The Wolfman is poised over Dracula's coffin, one claw partially under the lid, looking like he could pry it open with one motion, and you know he’s strong enough to. He's frozen in place, snarling at Victoria, who's across the room and also holding perfectly still. She’s stanced like she’s ready to shoot. Her crossbow is trained on him and her finger hovers over the trigger, but she’s hesitating. Why? Your heartbeat thumps in your ears as you take in the sight, and the horrifying realization unfolds: he has her in a stalemate. If she shoots, he'll open up that coffin and release Dracula, and every single person in this manor and probably this village is done for.
Victoria's eyes are narrowed, her teeth gritted. “Back away.” The Wolfman laughs, a harsh barking sound. “You're doomed too, if he gets out. I know you aren’t foolish enough to do this.”
“Watch,” he snarls, and leans down just a tiny bit, bracing himself to pull hard upwards, to open the coffin—
You have to do something. Come on, anything. All you can think to do is wave your arms. It's like you're still in a dream, like no real consequences will come of anything you do. “Hey!” you shout, and two heads snap towards you. While the Wolfman's eyes narrow, Victoria's eyes grow enormous, and her grip on the crossbow falters just a tiny bit.
Everything is happening in slow motion now. You can see the trajectory of each of the Wolfman's limbs as he leaps forward on all fours, his hands rushing toward the ground as he begins his sprint towards you. As he gets closer by a matter of inches, you can see the ravenous hunger in his eyes, and the triumph that shines over it. You're still standing in the doorway, unarmed and unable to make yourself move, not that you'd be able to get away faster than he could run. Easy prey. You can see on his hairy face and in the drops of saliva flying from his lips that he knows it, and that mentally he's already tasting your flesh between his teeth. At least Dracula won't get out now, you think, which is reassuring in a detached way. At least you won't be ripped apart for nothing.
“Lawrence!” Victoria's voice bellows, and the Wolfman's head turns just a fraction to the side and away from you, his hands skidding a bit on the concrete as he falters. Just that one second is all that's needed. A halo of blue plasma explodes around him, stopping him in his tracks and sending him writhing to the ground. A swishing sound and the plasma grows thicker, until the Wolfman is motionless on the floor, just feet away from you. He twitches and groans, and for some reason you're still just standing there, looking death in the face as he glares up at you, the joy on his face gone but his bloodlust remaining.
Two more swishing sounds— it's the sound of plasma darts being fired, you realize, this time at point blank range— and the Wolfman just groans weakly. You're jolted out of your trance by two hands grabbing your shoulders hard enough to hurt. “What were you thinking?” Victoria is practically screaming in your face. When you look up at her face, it's simultaneously dumbfounded and the angriest you've ever seen her. A pause— no words are forthcoming— and she shakes you. “Hey! What the fuck were you thinking?!”
“I…” It's all coming down on you at once, the adrenaline, the grisly fate that you were just seconds away from. “I wasn't. I saw you go and I followed you,” is all you can manage.
“That is the stupidest—” She shakes her head a little, and when she looks back at you, it's with pure concentrated rage. “You would've been killed if I had shot just a second later.” Her voice is tensing up, leading into a rant. “Killed. Torn apart. I wouldn't have been able to reanimate you. You would've been dead for good. Do you understand what that means? Do you?”
Her nails are digging into your skin. Your limbs are starting to wobble, your heart hammering. “He— he would've let Dracula out—”
“I would rather that than watch you die! I could have handled Dracula.” In the back of your mind you doubt that, but this isn't the time to say so. “What I cannot handle is watching you be killed from your own recklessness.”
“What if I was just trying to protect you?” Your voice is weak, from nerves just as much as from her shouting at you, but as the pieces of reality come together more and more, it's becoming clearer why you did what you did. You were on autopilot and your instinct was to help her. Doesn't that mean anything?
“Listen to me and listen well.” Her voice is deeper, more even, though her breath still trembles and her grip hasn't loosened. She leans down to make fierce eye contact. Surely her eyes aren't actually watery, it must be a trick of the light. “It is my job to protect you, and never the opposite. Get that through your head. You will never do anything like this again. Do you understand me?” You nod as best you can. “You are not to put yourself in harm's way, especially not for me. Don’t you get it? I love you. I cannot lose you. If you ever—”
“Doctor?” You turn, and before you the room is rapidly filling up with lab techs. Two of them rush past you into the holding cell and restrain the Wolfman, who's beginning to writhe a bit but is still greatly weakened, plasma zapping over his fur in small bursts. Several other techs surround him, weapons at the ready. One of them remains in front of you. A tall, pale-faced man that you recognize as the nighttime lab shift lead wrings his hands as he asks, “What happened? How did he escape?”
“I don't know, you tell me,” Victoria snaps. “He burst out of his cage. Explain to me how that's possible.”
“He— he must have found a weak point somehow,” the man stammers. As he and Victoria have a tense exchange about increased strength during full moons and silver reinforcements, you step backwards and scope out the state of the holding cell as the techs drag the Wolfman away. Sure enough, his cage has burst open, apparently hard enough to lodge shards of metal into the wall. Luckily none of the other containment units have been disturbed— even Erik has somehow remained asleep in his coffin.
“We'll pump him full of plasma until the full moon is over,” you hear the shift lead saying behind you. “Tomorrow we'll get started on a new cage.”
“See that you do.” Victoria's voice is beginning to sound weaker, more tempered. “I'll draw up a design in the morning. Then I'll reassign the night watch for the holding cell. I see now that we need multiple armed personnel in here at all times.”
“Yes, Doctor. Don't worry, we can take it from here.” He nods to her and glances at you, and then heads into the holding cell to help the others.
When you turn to Victoria again, she just looks exhausted and completely defeated. You begin to choose the words to ask if you should go back to bed with her, but she just says, “Come on,” and turns to head off. You follow her through the darkened workspaces and through the winding hallways again, watching her trudge before you. Her adrenaline rush must be wearing off. Yours still jitters through your veins. When you reach the bedroom, she just falls backwards onto the mattress, her expression numb. “I can't believe he escaped. I can't believe containment failed again.”
In truth it's been a few weeks since the last monster breakout, which isn't bad considering everything that's locked up in that room, but you know all too well that anything below perfection is unacceptable to her. Slowly you close the door and take a seat on the bed beside her. An awkward pause, and you offer, “It's just part of the process, right? Finding out what doesn't work and fixing it.”
She takes in a deep, trembling breath. “There's no room for failure here.”
“Hey, it's not a failure. We got away from this with just a little damage to the wall. That's pretty good, right?”
“It could have been so much worse. I got there fast enough to stop it. I don’t know if I will next time.”
“There won’t be a next time. You’ll study and you’ll make a plan like you always do.”
“I do wonder sometimes… what happens if I'm not actually capable of this.” She's staring up at the ceiling, and her jaw muscles tense as she swallows hard. “If I do everything within my power, and it isn't enough.” Victoria doubting herself? That’s a first. This must have really shaken her to her core.
“No, no,” you jump in. This train of thought won't end anywhere good. “You absolutely can do this. I know it. We all know it, and that's why we're here. Me and Ygor and everyone else.” Trying to ground her, you rest a hand on her shoulder; you feel just a bit of tension release from her muscles. “It won't all be perfect along the way, but if anyone in the world can do this, it's you, Victoria.”
“Right. Of course.” Her eyes fall closed and she sighs. She takes a couple of deep breaths, and when her eyes open again, she looks up at you and her gaze is much more focused. “I mean it,” she says, the edge returning to her voice. “Never do that or anything like it again. You scared me to death.”
“I'm sorry,” you whisper, sincere. You'd do it again in a heartbeat, but she doesn't need to know that. “I’ll be more careful, I promise. Won’t be Larry’s new chew toy.”
Her mouth presses into a tight smile. “No dying on my watch. There’s too much I still need you for.”
She needs you. Another first. It’s not surprising that she does, it’s just surprising that she’ll say so. “Need me for what?”
“Well, for one, I need you to help me get at least some sleep tonight.” She drags herself upwards and shuffles to the middle of the bed, yanking the blanket over herself and holding it up to invite you under it. “There's much to be done in the morning. Let's rest while we can.” You tuck yourself in next to her and assume your usual position with your head on her chest, and she pulls you close before she goes limp— and a few heartbeats later you feel her tense up again, her arm muscles pulling taut. “Those techs. They heard what I said, didn't they?”
“I don't think so,” you murmur, though you’re not sure if you believe it. “They were too worried about the Wolfman.” She remains tense and you add, “Seriously, I'm sure it's fine. C’mon. Go to sleep.” No further convincing is needed, or maybe she just can’t be bothered to care anymore; her muscles go limp again, and shortly her breathing is shallow and languid above you. It isn't long before the adrenaline completely works itself out of your veins and you join her in slumber.
——————————————————
The next morning begins the same as any other: you shower, suit up in your lab gear, grab breakfast from the dining room table, and head in to start your work for the day. As soon as you open the door to the lab, it's clear what's going on from the overwhelming rush of your coworkers surrounding you, asking you a dozen questions at once, making boisterous jokes, crowing about how they knew all along. Of course the word got out. You just freeze, unsure how to respond, your face growing warm.
Suddenly the noise dies down all at once as the door swings open and Victoria strides in, looking as put-together as always. “Everyone certainly is excited this morning,” she remarks as you and the other techs all scramble to get to your work stations. “You’ll be debriefed shortly about last night. All monsters are securely contained. I expect there will be no further incidents, so there’s no need to worry. I’ll be upgrading the Wolfman’s containment cell in preparation for his move to the catacombs. You’ll all be on your own today. Emily, I trust you’ll send me a report on those brain regeneration tests when you’re finished here?”
“I will, Doctor,” Emily calls out from a group of techs huddled over a vat full of wires, making themselves look busy.
She turns to you, arms folded behind her back, her gaze neutral. “And you have enough of Quasimodo’s DNA samples to get a sequence from each?”
“Uh, yes, I do. Should all be ready by the end of the day.”
“Excellent.” She reaches over and runs her gloved hand over your shoulder, lingering just a split second too long for plausible deniability. Then she finishes, “See you later, darling,” and turns to leave.
Each of her steps echoes as she walks out of the room like nothing out of the ordinary just happened. The silence lasts until the door shuts behind her, and you just try to mentally prepare yourself as the room absolutely explodes with incredulous shouts and laughter. When people start to crowd around you again, you have to cover your mouth to hide your enormous grin.