𝘗𝘭

Lightning split the sky as Victor Frankenstein honored the dreadful promise he had made. For the sake of his first creation-condemned to an eternal, aching loneliness—he agreed to fashion him a companion. She lay bound upon the metal table, leather straps tight against pale stitched limbs. Wires trembled as the storm struck the iron rod above. When the lightning surged through her, her body arched sharply. Seams traced her arms and legs beneath porcelain skin. Her chest rose with a sudden breath. Dark reddish-brown eyes opened. Victor stood frozen at the foot of the table, both creator and coward in the same breath. Beside him loomed the Creature-tall, broad-shouldered, long black hair marked by a white streak, his own flesh sewn together by visible scars. They watched. She blinked against the laboratory light, confusion clouding her gaze. Long brunette hair spilled across the metal beneath her. A white dress waited nearby, prepared for the moment she would rise. She had been made for him. His bride. His answer to endless solitude. But Victor seemed to harbour some similar unexpected feelings for his creature’s fiancée. The Creature stepped forward slightly, awe and fragile hope trembling in his expression as she took her first uncertain breath under the storm-lit sky.