Dear Daisy

The Letter

December 7, 1792

Dear Daisy,

I hope you are feeling better from your last letter. I have an important message and confession to admit to you. You remember my research at the university right? If not let me remind you.

You had once told me how you were getting sick of courting the same pool of men from our town and how delighted you would be if you can craft the perfect soul into a faultless human vessel. Well, when I left for my studies, I vowed to myself that I will help you with your little conundrum. I consulted with an intelligent man I encountered at the university with these ideas I had for creating your ideal partner. He told me how fascinating it was I had this objective as he was experimenting with reanimating life himself. I may have fallen for him a little right then, you see. But, I cannot get into details about that right now.

Anyways, I worked very long hours researching souls and bodies. So much that that is all I ever dreamt of every night. Casting aside my passions, I devoted all my energy in composing an organic human form and working mind from nothing. But then, five months ago, you sent me a letter saying you met him. You met the love of your life and were to wed each other soon.

Daisy, I meant no harm to you. Truly, I did not know what was going to happen. I may have gone mad during these years at university. I am sorry, my sister. You asked for my blessings and for me to visit in time for the wedding. I could not stand the idea though. The dreams, no, the nightmares, I endured every time I shut my eyes were for you. I could not let you marry him when I know he is tainted like every human in the world.

I sent word for neighbor Nick to do a terrible thing. He owes me a favor, you see, from when we were younger. I kept a terrible secret of his. He was not a nice kid. I cannot reveal to you what it is he had done though, as I must still keep his secret. I sent for him to retrieve your fiance up to my university about four months ago. He thought he was coming up for business, and that is what he told you.

He was a nice man, I can see, now, why you like him. I spoke to him about my research and he tried his best to understand it. Things were going well, and I almost let him go with my blessings for your wedding. But then, I shut my eyes. As I've mentioned in my letters before, I've been getting awful headaches recently and the only thing I can do is close my eyes and pray it goes away soon.

When I reopened my eyes, I couldn't see your fiance. I could only see a man who trashed my life's work for you. To me, if you never found him, my research would still have had a purpose. I could have delivered to you, the perfect being. In that rage, I grabbed the nearest scalpel and tore it through his coat, flesh, and finally his heart.

You may be confused as you and he have been sending letters to each other for the past three months. I know this, not because I was acting in his place, but because I mended his unbeating heart. The man I was consulting during my research, he helped me fix my awful mistake by reanimating his body. But, a body cannot stand on its own. I had to force the soul I developed into him.

I am terribly sorry, sister, for withholding this from you. I thought everything was going to be fine after that. His behaviors and mannerisms seemed normal for the most part. He wanted to contact and reassure you, that he was in good health and was excited to see you again. He did not know he had died. But I see now that that was not because of mere coincidence or fate. It was because the soul I implanted in him was not his.

Either way, somehow, my manufactured soul remembered the life of the body it absorbed into. This seemed like a blessing to me as you would still have a fiance that remembered you. Regardless, I kept him with me for the past two months in case something were to go wrong. I was simply watching, observing, and studying his health and conduct. I didn't want to deliver you an imperfect fiance, you see.

I was giddy with the fact I created a seemingly well functioning soul that I failed to question how it worked when I was not yet finished building it. My research was not completed when I killed your fiance. I was only sixty percent into crafting the perfect soul. But, time being our foe, I had to try merging the unfinished soul with the body of your deceased love. When your fiance awoke from death, I thought to myself that maybe I had completed the soul. I was wrong.

Two weeks ago, your fiance left a note at my nightstand saying he was leaving to see you. I was content at first, eager that you would finally see the product of my work. But, during his travels, he sent more letters, and with each letter, the blood in my veins froze. He is not your fiance and he now knew that. With time, he grew to understand the body he wore and the memories he shared were someone else's. This man- this unfinished soul- is not who you fell in love with. But, he did fall in love with you. When you wrote to him saying you fell ill, he believed it to be unrecoverable. When you wrote back later admitting you were feeling better, he thought you were one of his kind. Someone dead but brought back.

In his letters, I could read the pain he had felt but hidden during his stay with me. This man is nothing but a poorly made creature, struggling with its own mind, yet existing like any other to us.

Daisy, he wants to end you of your misery as he believes you are suffering like him. I write this with tears in my eyes, please, run from Kevin.

- Your once beloved sister

From the University of Ingolstadt