Frankenstein

The Creature

 "It's alive! I have done the impossible!" Victor yelled. "Keep it down. I'm studying for a nanotechnology exam," his roommate responded from the living room. Victor awoke fully. "Happened again," he muttered. This was the fifth time had had awoken screaming about bending the will of nature. He couldn't help it. Success was too close. He stood, putting on his mechanical coat. "Time to go to work."

He approached his workplace, Death's Door, or its uncommonly known name, Mercy's General Hospital. Given that both names inspired fear wherever heard, its location made sense, in a twisted way. Isolated, in the woods, where sunlight almost never hit. Fortunately for Victor, this location was perfect. Everything about it. This place will go down in history, Victor thought, walking to the basement. He passed thirteen rooms, each with their own strange noise within. This place is trash anyways. No need to dwell. Besides, this will be one of the last days of work, if not the last. Then, onto testing. Though exhilarated, he was also a bit saddened. After all, he had spent over two decades on this project. He opened the door marked "storage" and once again beheld his creation.

The corps was made of a multitude of parts from different bodies, since, given, some parts of some people preserved better than others. Prosthetics, of course, was still an option, but Victor was a traditional man. The body of the corpse was extremely out of proportion with the had, with unnaturally long limbs and sagging skin, also given that some corpses had more skin concentration in an area than others. Victor never wondered. One never wonders. He learned that the hard way. It's head was completely horrifying. Every part, from the upper lip to the left ear, was made of a different person. Except for the eyes. Both came from the same person, and both irises looked darker than black. Victor, of course, in his brilliance, had done this intentionally, and also had intentionally not given it eyelids, to complement. This creation was, completely and utterly, Victor's pride and joy. Tonight will be the night. He would make sure of it. No time to waste.

He laid the body on the table and began his work. Injecting and programming the nanites. A product earlier than its time. Carefully planned. Checking for rot. Today was the day of life. Despite failures, he knew today was the day. He spent the rest of the day implanting organs, as they were hard to replace, and rotted without blood circulation, regardless of preservation. Liver, lungs, kidneys. Heart. Victor could barely breathe. He suspected his creation had stolen his breath from him for itself. It was finally happening. After years of tests, fails, changes, and retests. Everything had worked last time. It had to work this time. Now came the hard part. Victor worked until he was almost dead, carefully connecting the nerve endings, veins and arteries, and other vital pieces. Now came the brain. Of course, the brain was fresh. He needed it to have experience, not to teach it how to live. He didn't have time for that. He didn't ask where the brain came from. Beggars can't be choosers, especially when it came to body parts on the market. He had past experience with the market. Bad times. Victor had to work fast. The brain would become useless in a matter of minutes. He connected the brain to all the necessary parts, then stored it in the skull. Checking. Double checking. His self-taught anatomy was good enough for this. Everything had to be perfect. The night was passing quickly, as Victor made final preparations. He checked his phone. 4:30 AM. That was all he used his phone for nowadays. That and the market. It had started storming sometime. Occasional thunder could be heard, accompanied by the sounds from the rooms above and rain. Perfect timing. It's time, Victor thought. He did the final programming for the nanites to respond to blood flow. Then, he commanded the nanites to swarm the heart and pulse. He waited. One minute became two, which became five. He tried again. Same result. Keep going, he thought to himself. There was no way this was a failure. He waited for what seemed like hours. The blood takes a while to circulate. Wait. What was that? Possibly... a breath? Yes, it was! Happening more and more frequently with each passing second. "Fascinating," Victor thought. The eyes flicked towards him. He unconsciously took a step backwards. They unnerved him. Good. They were doing what they were supposed to do. No turning back now. Then again, Victor had never planned on doing that anyways. Of course, the creature was chained to the table. Victor wasn't stupid. He knew the creature might turn on him. Time for the tests.

"What will I call you?" Victor wondered. "Famous inventions are usually named after the creators. I see no reason to change that," he continued. "Very well. I give this name to my creation: Frankenstein."