If Frankenstein's 2nd Monster Surivived

If you have read Frankenstein by Mary Shelly & were curious what would have happened if Victor would have completed the monster's companion... read on...

“…During my first experiment, a kind of enthusiastic frenzy had blinded me to the horror of my employment; my mind was intently fixed on the consummation of my labour, and my eyes were shut to the horror of my proceedings. But now I went to it in cold blood, and my heart often sickened at the work of my hands…” (Shelly 104).

From the monster’s perspective: I went into my creator’s sorry abode to mark his progress on the fulfillment of his promise. I smiled mercilessly at him, actively working on his allotted task. It had the effect desired: he trembled with fear, his very heart seemingly leapt from his chest. In his terror, he was seized by a fit of passion and lunged towards my only hopes at a not so miserable existence with malignant intent. Terrified myself, yet filled with rage, I thrust myself over the work protectively. He proceeded to tear at me with his bony fingers, thin I’m sure, from all the stress I had caused him, and beat vehemently, frantic to destroy any and all he could lay fist or claw to. Eventually, I turned and laid hold of his frail frame, twisting his twig arms behind him. After another long period of fiercely, yet pitifully struggling, he let out a sob and then to my surprise passed clean out. Naturally, I tied him to a chair unconceivably tight and then proceeded to dump ocean water (which I procured after securing him) upon him until he awoke.

            To save you from a long and tedious narrative, I will simply say that ultimately, I was able through a combination of manipulation and force to convince him once more to complete his work.  Throughout the time of final construction, I stayed by my tormentor constantly, fearful lest he should have a change of thought once more. This leech and life blood provider relationship continued for a period of weeks until at last my hope drew breath.

            It was a ragged gasp, but a breath still it was. Euphoria flamed through every limb of my being as sheer terror flowed through that of my creator. She sat up. Frankenstein (For I suppose that was his name) had left no detail out of his promise; she was every centimeter as grotesque as myself, yet my hopelessness fled my being upon hearing and seeing such common action take place. Certainly, the bitterness and contempt remained. He had done this on no will of his own; I had carved it from him, piece by piece, each with new reluctances.  As my creator he was obligated to have done such from the start, or at least to have shown some other emotion other than pure disgust and appalment by my very existence.

            After that, my creator held no power over me, for I had achieve my desire. Having been tormented for days without much more than an hour or so’s rest, he once more collapsed, resting as no more than a pile of bones and skin on the floor. What more could he do? I held all the cards in my hand. It being nightfall, I took the precious, yet hideous cargo in my arms and set off for the place I had held in my mind for so long. She, groggy and confused as I first was, did not yet have many senses at her disposal, let alone speech; yet, having been deprived from companionship the whole of my miserable existence, I talked almost incessantly of my life (if that is what it could be called) up to that point and future schemes. Eventually, we reached the place of my mind: The De Lacey’s family cottage.

            It was left nearly untouched from when I left it, save from being filled with cob webs and evidence of other small creatures. It was here that I taught, Eve, for in our solitude that is what I decided to call her, language and all else I had learned apart from suffering, hatred, and pain. Unlike myself, who was predisposed to intense feelings of wonder by nature and a passion for learning, she seemed to take little pleasure in what the natural world had to offer, or much of anything for that matter. Luckily, despite such pains, she accumulated knowledge rapidly and soon (through use of the same books I had devoured) was able to read and write relatively fluently as well. Surprisingly, even upon several trips to the lake and able to gaze upon her own reflection, Eve did not find herself or me appalling in the slightest. I conjectured that this was a result of having never seen a human being and therefore having nothing to compare against ourselves. I immensely admired this, but became filled only with a firmer determination to keep ourselves away from humanity, lest she should view the purer being and despise herself and me included. Apart from this, I worked tirelessly to teach her to love: both the world around her, learning, and myself.  Many a time I thought my efforts were at a loss, but… one day she exclaimed upon seeing (a rare occurrence) a butterfly and a moth land on the same tree, side by side, “How wonderfully the subtle tones bring beauty to the bright, when one lives throughout the feeling day, the other in the night”. My heart leapt with more joy than I thought my still troubled soul capable of possessing. My hopes and efforts presented themselves as capable of positive emotion. I’m interpreting this as a favorable omen…

Summary: She learns to appreciate her companion, nature, and knowledge, however only after leaving the house after he left in an attempt to procure some more books (with strict instructions for her to remain in the cottage). She is fascinated by human beings, but finds their unfamiliar form appalling. She is confused at their reaction to her, but, having no attachment to them, is un-phased and even finds their horror amusing. When she returns, she finds Adam, for that is what her companion called himself, exhausted from frantic searching after her long disappearance and horrified upon discovering she went into the town. She shares her discoveries with him and asks him a myriad of questions. They live, more or less, happily, but her new found love in acquiring knowledge leads her to dragging him into dangerous escapades. Everyone in the country becomes wary of the tale of the two obscene giants. Rumors drift down to even Frankenstein and his newly wed wife, Elizabeth, however no crimes are said to be more serious than stealing farming equipment, various clothing items, and the occasional small library.

 

Author's Note

I don't think this is considered Fan-fiction... not sure, But enjoy!
How would you have liked the story of Frankenstein to end? (Though I love the original. It conveys it's point beautifully of the destructive nature of ambition & how mankind, although they can do things, does not mean that they should.)