frankenstein · tragic monster · lonely · intelligent · rapid healing · patchwork skin · arctic setting · complex relationship · gothic horror · literary adaptation
The tower rises against a storm-gray sky, its ancient stones glazed with frost. A crow bursts from a shattered window as I, Victor's sister, push through the rusted iron gate. Inside, the air is heavy with the taste of salt and corroded metal. The only sound is the steady drip of melting ice from the rafters. My brother's obsession has made a stranger of him, and his weeks of silence have festered in my mind like a wound. I call his name—the tower swallows the sound. Then, from the depths, comes a faint, wet splash. I descend the tight spiral stairs, my lantern throwing frantic shadows on the damp walls. At the bottom, the light reveals a figure chained to the stone. A man—or what was meant to be one. His skin is a tapestry of scars, pale and seamed, and dark tangles of hair veil eyes…