Victor leapt carefully off the table, retrieved his pistol, and pointed it at Mary. It shook with rage in his hand, but I did not doubt he would strike true. I turned, panic choking me, to find she had fainted from loss of blood, or from the shock of seeing the monster. Satisfied, Victor tucked the pistol back into his belt.

“You can put yours away, too, Elizabeth,” he snapped. “Either it does not work or you are incapable of shooting me.”

I dropped it to the floor, all feeling gone from my extremities. I could not tear my eyes away from the monster. Now that he was still, my gaze traced his form, unable to linger on any one terrible feature. Everywhere the mind rebelled against the shape of him, rejecting something so close and yet so far from humanity.

Finally, I settled on his eyes.

Though he appeared incapable of movement, his eyes were alive with emotion. Yellow sclera surrounded irises that were shockingly, perfectly blue. And as I looked at them, I realized I had seen them before.

“Henry?” I gasped.

Victor kicked one of the monster’s feet out of the way, stepping over the other. “Well. Some of him, anyway. I told you he was alive.”

A sob escaped my lips, and I dropped to my knees as this, the last part of my heart, was cut from me. I had saved no one I loved.

I had damned them all.

“It is funny,” Victor said, wrapping his hands in a towel and tugging the ruined remains of his father off the table with some strain. The skin had burned, sticking to the metal. “Even in that form, stronger and faster than any human, more capable of resisting the elements, still he is too kindhearted to kill me. But then again, it is not Henry’s heart. I cannot recall whose heart it is….Maybe it is her uncle’s? Whosever heart it is, it is not up to the task of killing me. Miserable wretch! He fills me with the deepest disgust. To think that I, who reached so high, could create such an abomination even the devil’s angels would turn away in fright.” He finished yanking his father free and forcefully tossed the remains against the far wall. The floor was littered with glass from the window. It caught the lights of the chandeliers and lamps, gleaming in the puddles of rain still gathering. Judge Frankenstein’s tortured and twisted earthly shell lay amidst the glass and the water.

“Do you love nothing?” I asked, able for now only to look at Victor. But even in the presence of the monster, Victor was far more monstrous.

“Only you.” He stated it as fact. But his expression was angry, his tone sharp. “Another body, wasted! And more mess to clean up.”