Frankenstein; or, the modern prometheus

Chapter 20

I sat in my laboratory one evening as the moon rose pale from the sea, the fading light too dim to continue my work, and let my thoughts drift over the task that had consumed me for months. Three years prior, I had labored in that same room to bring the hideous creature that had since tormented me to life, and now I had been on the verge of completing a female companion for him, as I had rashly promised. But as I sat idle, a wave of clarity struck me: I knew nothing of her disposition. She could be ten thousand times more cruel than her mate, delighting in murder for its own sake. The creature had sworn to retreat to the wilderness and leave humanity be, but she had made no such vow, and might refuse the compact made before her creation. She could loathe his deformity, or turn from him to the beauty of human men, leaving him more embittered and alone than ever. If they bred, a race of devils would infest the earth, threatening the very survival of the human species. Had I any right to buy my own peace at the cost of all future generations? The wickedness of my promise crashed over me then, and I shuddered to think future ages might curse me as the pest who doomed them for my own selfish relief.

I looked up then, and saw the creature’s ghastly, grinning face pressed to my casement. He had followed me through every corner of Europe, hiding in forests and heaths to track my progress, and now he had come to demand I fulfill my vow. His eyes burned with malice as I stared at the half-formed female on my worktable, and with a surge of rage I tore the incomplete body to pieces. The creature howled with despair and rage, then vanished into the night.

I locked the lab door and vowed never to take up my forbidden work again, then paced my rooms, sick with dread. Hours later, as I sat staring at the quiet sea, I heard oars splash near the shore, then the soft creak of my front door. I was frozen with terror, unable to call for help, as the creature stepped into my room. He raged at me for breaking my promise, listing every hardship he had endured following me across continents, the cold, hunger, and toil he had suffered for the hope of a companion. I refused him flat out, telling him I would not set a demon loose on the world, and he snarled his revenge: he would be with me on my wedding night. I tried to seize him, but he slipped away, leaping into his boat and rowing off across the waves.

I paced my rooms in a fury, my mind racing with his threat. He meant to kill Elizabeth on our wedding day. Tears I had not shed in months streamed down my face as I thought of her, and I resolved I would not die without fighting him. The next day I walked the island’s shore, half-wishing I could remain there isolated forever rather than return to a world where the creature could strike those I loved, before falling into a deep sleep. I woke to a letter from Clerval, begging me to meet him in Perth to finalize their planned Indian trade expedition, and decided I would leave the island in two days.

Before I departed, I had to clear out my lab. The scattered remains of the half-finished female made my stomach turn, and I packed my chemical instruments and her ruined parts into a basket weighted with stones, planning to dump them at sea that night. As I sat on the beach cleaning my gear, the weight of my guilt lifted for the first time in months: I knew I had done right, and the thought of ever creating another such creature never crossed my mind.

In the small hours of the morning, I rowed my skiff four miles from shore, waited for a cloud to cover the moon, and heaved the basket overboard, listening to it sink into the deep. I sailed on for a while, enjoying the cool night air, before falling asleep. I woke to find high winds had driven me far off course, no compass to guide me, with nothing but roiling waves around me and the threat of starvation or drowning looming. I was certain the creature had already triumphed, that my family was dead by his hand, when the wind died down and I spotted high land on the southern horizon. I rigged a makeshift sail from my coat and steered toward it, my heart soaring when I made out a small, cultivated town and a safe harbor.

As I worked to secure my boat and arrange my sails on the shore, a crowd of locals gathered, eyeing me with open hostility. I asked them in English what town I had landed in, and a rough-voiced man replied that I would learn soon enough, that I would not like my quarters here. Before I could press him, a larger crowd had formed, murmuring and glaring, and an ill-looking man clapped me on the shoulder and told me I was to come with him to see Magistrate Kirwin, to account for the murder of a gentleman found dead on the shore the night before. My blood ran cold, but I followed silently, too exhausted to resist. I knew I was innocent, but I could not shake the dread of what was to come, and I must pause here to gather my strength before I recount the terrifying events that followed in full.