Erik Lehnsherr couldn't hide the scowl that was glued against his face, as he made his way down the hill and towards the small tavern by the river.
Once he stepped foot inside , the atmosphere drastically changed. Tension hung in the air as two men shot him a look - a suspicious one.
Erik only glanced, before walking towards the bar. The man that served him a glass beer gave him the same dirty glare.
His eyes scanned the room, and the place seemed to be deserted of people- a private resident by the suburban, a perfect place for a getaway.
Or a hideout.
A place that was used by Sebastian Shaw for both- or as Erik knows him as ; Dr.Klaus Schmidt.
Out of the corner of his eyes, he caught a glimpse of a picture that hung on the wall. It was a picture of three men on a yacht- the man in the middle was no doubt Schmidt.
The wired glasses and uniform were replaced with a polo t-shirt, nonetheless, he failed to see the difference on the man who made his life a living hell.
He went rigid, and he mentally sighed in frustration, because Shaw was always one step ahead.
Across the boat painted the words -"CASPARANTINA MIAMI" in big bold letters, and he knew that that's where he needed to go.
The bartender piqued in,
" German Beer? "
Before Erik could reply, the man by the table jumped in," Ya it's Bitburger, like it?"
When he finished the sentence he nudged his friend, and they both dissolved into fits of tipsy laughs.
Most of the time, Erik would have only been irritated. This time, he knew that these men were associated with Schmidt. It would be most unlikely that Erik would leave the place with all of their limbs still intact.
" What brings you to Argentina?" Erik asked, scoffing as he tried to make a small talk with them.
They went from talking about the weather, to Düsseldorf , to his parents. They were trudging on dangerous waters, and it was Erik who has dragged them down there.
" They have no name," he spoke in German,when they asked him about their parents," Their names were selected for them."
" Breeders," He gave one man a toast.
"- and Tailors," he exclaimed, passing another toast to the next.
His smile was not enough to mask his voice that was dripping with a sinister and feverous tone - full of cynic and hatred.
As they drank in uneasy silence , Erik made sure that he had caught their attention, before flipping his arm to show them the numbers that were inked on his skin from the concentration camp.
In an instant their eyes flashed with fear.
Not long after, Erik Lehnsherr walked out of the tavern, leaving a trail of three dead bodies inside.
Erik recalled what the man had asked him while he had his hand pinned under his own knife," Who are you?"
" Let's just say I'm Frankenstein's monster," he replied, right after killing the other two men," and let's just say I'm looking for my creator."
He trudged towards the picture of Shaw, giving it one last look - and Erik Lehnsherr wouldn't deny that he is a monster.
That after what Schmidt had done to him, after what kind of ability he had brutally tortured out of him - how could he not become one ?
