Experimental (Junkenstein X reader)(Lemonz)

akt.1 scene.1= cold night's

The rain crashed down, pouring over the dirty streets in small collective rivers as the lighting and thunder illuminated the dusky night sky with rays of spastic lights. Despite that, there was no such thing as luminosity on the streets, it was completely dark, hopeless and cold; a bleak canvas of washed out colours.

You ungracefully stumble through the wide stone pathed streets of the small town called "Adelsbrunn", aimlessly pacing to some place, any place to hide from the moody weather soaking your clothe and hair in coarse rain. Your pale skin quaking uncontrollably as your arms were slung around yourself in the hope of keeping the remaining warmth in your body, the swiftly fleeting warmth of life.

It seemed like the end of the world had come for you in this night in 1818, thrown out of the orphanage of the small town at the tender age of only twenty two; left alone to die on the streets for stealing some food from the kitchen. A horrid fate. The hunger had gotten to you, and it nagged you to the point of utter desperation and now you were to pay the price with your life. How unjust that felt, and how betrayed you thought yourself by the people who had been tasked with raising you.

Now, you were lost in these familiar streets of your own home town, the panic growing together with the cold spreading in your aching bones, you knew death was a certain visiter if you wouldn't find a place that was kind enough to let in someone of so conceivably scarce worth. Where to go, where to run?

There were no family and friends to flee to, this world seemingly had no place for you. Your eyes were as wet with tears as the rest of you, the salty beads of rain had drenched you from head to toe to the point the fabric of your gown was glued to your skin.

But, oh wonder, in the distance you perceived a slither of dim light that fought its way to the curtains of rain. Maybe, whoever lived there would grant you to stay the night, or just until this storm had passed by, a place with a fireplace and a bedchamber to spare. Your tired state allowed for little comprehension, but you considered this your last hope for surviving this dastardly night.

Fleetly making your way towards the large, dark wooden door with your echoing steps resounding through the dim streets, you began to realize who exactly these massive castle walls belonged to, and who resided there for many years now.

Horror stories children told on the streets, they chanted about a mad Doctor, a man driven over the edge by his own ego to create artificial life. One who was supposed to be seen at night, carrying corpses from the graveyard. But that was probably just a housewives tale.

This man of legend and conspiracies, you knew to be the infamous Dr. Jamison Junkenstein, and he was known in the kingdom for all the wrong reasons. The endless failures he had suffered in his years spent experimenting, and the boundless hatred he had received for the people of this town were more than just a rumour.

He had lived in isolation for so long now, that it was no wonder people believed him to be a deranged shell of a man, a scientist who had been consumed, devoured and mangled in his sickly pursuit of obtaining knowledge.

However, to you, the doctor was quite a bit more than just a scary tale to scare misbehaved children, and more than just a bad name to humm in the streets. He someone you had met before, many, many summers ago, and whom you held dear to your heart. In fact, one of the only people who you dared to hold in fond remembrance.

You were still a lot younger when you had first encountered the now crazed doctor, and as far as you were concerned, you had been close playmates in childhood after meeting at the riverside to play during the carless months of summer.

But that was long ago, and now just a few blissful childhood memory of a friend that had long since given into madness. And it had been so long, you wondered if he even still remembered you.