Okay, I thought I might as well give this a try. Behold! My first cross over with Ben 10 and Monster High! And as an added bonus, it's the first of its kind (I checked)! Don't worry, Monster High doesn't exist in the Ben 10 Universe and vise versa. They each have their own seperate universes, and give credit to those that made them as I have no creativity of my own to match them (Ain't I humble?). Please send me your comments and your reviews so I know if this story is worth writing or not.

If you're looking for a good Monster High story to read, might I suggest reading The Abyss gazes Also by Chromatoast?

If you're looking for a good Ben 10 story to read, might I suggest reading The Slayer Chronicles by Winter Coma?

Edit: If you are reading this, then congratulations! You've stumbled across my first work of fanfiction before I was my funny and witty self (he said sarcastically). As such, I feel that I could do better on my previous stories with how I've progressed, and I've felt that some chapters of my first story could use some reworks. So essentially, I just rewrote and reworded this entire chapter without any significant plot change, so don't worry!

Onward!

The moment Ben woke up and found himself starring at the black expanse of the night sky and a carpet of damp, dew-covered grass beneath him, he knew something was off.

The first item on his list of things that were wrong was the splitting headache that coursed through his head. It felt like his skull was being used as a bass drum during a solo while simultaneously having a railroad spike slowly driven into it with the pulsing, hammering blows of the mallet only making the pain even worse. The second thing that felt off that his body was aching and sore, as if he had landed on a mattress filled with rocks after falling several stories up (then again, this seemed to be a regularly reoccurring thing in his line of work). And finally, he was in some place that he didn't recognize in the slightest as he stood up and stretching his pain-racked body, wincing as he heard the loud snaps and cracks of his back when he bent backwards.

It was then that he noticed several oddly shaped objects jutting up out of the ground in an almost haphazardly manner while remaining arranged in neat, even rows across the fog covered grounds.

Tombstones.

Ben held back a yelp of surprise, clutching the area over his chest where his heart was as he slowed his breathing and gulped nervously to take in his surroundings; wherever there were tombstones, that usually meant a graveyard, and thus it usually meant people of some kind. The night air was cool and damp against his skin, the moon full in the night sky among the collection glimmering stars that the ominous clouds didn't roll over in their silent rampage. The wielder of the Omnitrix was getting the sense that he wasn't some place he was familiar with, at least not in the sense that he had been there before, and wherever he had ended it up, it seemed being creepy was the name of the game.

"Alright, definitely getting a case of the hereby-jeebies." Ben shuddered as he tapped the Omnitrix and nearly collasped with relief when he was met with its usual, warm glow. He then quickly cycled through the roster, bypassing aliens such as Way Big and Clockwork before he finally settled on selecting the Lepidopterran icon and slamming a hand down on the activation button, swallowing himself in a blast of green energy and light. His body began to swell and balloon as millions of strong, firm muscles piled themselves onto every part of his body while his fingers and hands trembled and twitched before quickly growing in size to match his rapidly growing arms. Stitches arched across his body as his expeditiously expanding back and chest tore his black and green T-shirt to shreds with a loud ripping noise while patchwork skin started make up his surface. A pair of burdensome, green gauntlets formed around his thick wrists as metallic bolts burst and poked out from his body on his arms and back while a pair of gigantic conductors erupted forth from his broad shoulders with a blast of green light. Electricity danced violently between the two turrets as a pair of black pants and large, slitted boots materialized on Ben while his pushed out with a loud crunching noise, a few teeth jutting at odd positions. His hair flashed and darkened into a jet black and grew long and shaggy as the Omnitrix thrust itself out of his right pectoral muscle, looking as if it been painfully torn from his body and crudely punched back in.

The Transylian paused to glance at his gigantic hands, frowning with disappointment at his appearance. "Aw, man! Doesn't this thing ever work?" he sighed.

Lightning's whip cracked the sky in two as thunder's stampede came rumbling shortly afterwards, making the dry air vibrate and buzz with energy, making some of Frankenstrike's dark hair stand on end as he proceeded to lumber towards one end of the graveyard where he eventually came across a cracked and barely noticeable cobblestone path that had succumb to the elements and more like ancient mud and dust covering a layer of forgotten rocks. The wrought iron fences creaked and groaned as he pushed them open, finding himself standing on a sidewalk next to a road that ran in two directions, one going out towards the wilderness and the other stretching off in the direction of a series of glowing lights.

Lights meant civilization. And civilization meant people of some degree.

"Am I back on Anur Transyl? Is this just another prank pulled by Rad?" Frankenstrike asked himself, remembering the tough as nails duck that had kindly piloted him to the monster planet (and consequently refused to speak with him afterwards).

That made him think of his friends and family back home. They were undoubtedly worried about him, but there was also the slight chance they hadn't even noticed he was gone yet. Would Grandpa Max, Gwen, Kevin, and Rook frantically search every last corner of the galaxy for him, leaving no planet unturned until they found answers about his fate? He knew his parents would be worrying their heads off, especially his mother, and his friends be trying to hold everything together while the villains had a field day without him around to ruin their schemes and plans.

Wherever he had ended up however, it didn't seem to be Anur Transyl or any of the other planets located in the dark, shady, cobweb covered section of the universe that was the Anur System; there wasn't anything that particularly screamed 'alien' about it, and he had yet to see Lunar Lobo in the eternal, night sky.

After a time he eventually came across a road sign planted about half a mile or so outside of the town. It was really nothing more than a mound of concrete bricks arrange in a circular mound with two stone pillars that framed a plaque that read "Welcome to New Salem". Perched on top of the sign like some kind of silent guardian was a vicious looking gargoyle with a snarling maw, pointed ears and horns, flared wings, and wicked claws, a true beast that looked like it wanted nothing more than to prey upon innocent passerby.

As the Transylian continued to walk, he began to take in his surroundings better as he lumbered down the sidewalk. He was seemed to have entered the business district of the town as there were various shops and businesses ranging from restaurants and cafes to electronic stores and mechanic garages, all in all a nice, small town to grow up in. The town had an old vibe to it, with a majority of the buildings being carved out of bricks and mortar with concrete bases and pillars to frame them into place before the sprawling town eventually gave way to more open spaces that house large businesses such as a shopping mall.

"Nice place. A few curtains, maybe a shag carpet . . ." Frankenstrike cracked to himself to try and keep his spirits high as he crossed a bridge that overlooked a wide and slowly ebbing river; upon closer inspection, one would notice that on one side of the river, the side that Frankenstrike had come from, was neatly pruned with green lawns and ancient oaks with bright, green leaves and blooming flowers dotting the parks and green places provided between the drab of the buildings. The other side of the river however, the side that the Transylian was heading into, seemed less kept and left alone, the trees reduced to clawing, snarling branches that raked the sky with hungry wantoning, the grass a decaying shade of brown among weeds and brambles, and the flowers seemed to glow an otherworldly white in color beneath the full moon that seemed to be smiling down upon him.

The layout of the town changed significantly as well. The brick buildings seemed to have carried over from the other side of the river, but they were often dotted with ledges that housed gargoyles of various designs and ferocity and gothic points that stabbed at the sky and thrust painful out into the air like sharpened daggers into flesh. Shop windows were often decorated with cobweb-like designs and the parked cars that lined the streets shared mufflers and fronts that seemed to bare resemblance to hungry, gnashing teeth the closer one looked. The hoot of a lone owl was not uncommon as Frankenstrike continued to move along, taking note in how all the street names appeared to share a similar theme with their names; "Skellington Blvd", "Dead End", Scaremiester Avenue", being among a few of them.

The small businesses and restaurants soon gave way to the large corporate companies located farther away from the town, almost mirroring the other end of the river perfectly with the exception of the road signs. "Just what the heck is a 'Maul'?" Frankenstrike wondered, scratching his head.

Eventually, those disappeared too and housing began to take place and shape, occasionally meandering off into small communities of the same brick building establishments or parks and small woods and forests before more housing appeared and took root. Some of these were vast mansions of strange and questionable design in Frankenstrike's opinion as he lumbered past a vast complex that seemed to have stolen one of the Great Pyramids of Giza for its personal property while passing by another house whose exterior walls were covered in doors of many shapes and sizes, leaving the identity of the front door a mystery to all who didn't live there.

The Transylian was beginning to tire, the cool, dry air and moistened earth taking a toll on him as his body instinctively told him to sleep; it seemed that the primitive urge to hunker down and sleep during coming storms or wet environments that often left his human form groggy and overslept when he woke up was shared by Transylians as well. He didn't have enough money to attempt to check into a motel, and sleeping on a park bench was out of the question lest it crumble beneath his tremendous weight. Eventually, when it was in the wee hours of the morning, he pushed himself past the wrought iron gate of a park and strolled over to a large, weeping willow tree that still harbored all its foliage and lay down at the base of the trunk with his hands folded over his stomach.

Frankenstrike sighed contently and got comfortable, wondering how long it might be before the Omnitrix timed out and returned him to human form. His attention was briefly snatched away by the sight of the stars ever so slowly beginning to fade away the slightest in the rising sun like ancient text on parchment after years of touch and abuse; he wondered how things were be handled back home and he felt his heart twist slightly at the thought of his loved ones, even Kevin.

"Miss ya guys." he sighed tiredly before he let his eyes droop shut and fall into dreamless slumber.


Tap. Tap, Tap. Tap.

"Excuse me, young man? Young man?" a deep voice with what sounded to be a German accent rumbled.

Frankenstrike mumbled something in his sleep and let out a tremendous yawn that exposed his crooked teeth while he stretched his large muscles and cracked his oversized fingers with a single flex; he was mildly surprised that the Omnitrix had even held up this long, maybe six hours or so, especially considering that it had the habit of timing out at the worst of times. Perhaps the life form lock mode had been activated when he . . . fell? He didn't even know how he got to this strange world yet!

"Young man, I would very much appreciate it if you could get off of my petunias."

The Transylian rubbed the sleep from his eyes and blinked blearily to look up and find himself lying the shadow of a tall, imposing figure that stood perhaps a foot or so taller than him with gigantic, broad shoulders with strong arms and massive hands with burly fingers. A large stitch ran up to his left eye, accent his strong chin slightly when attention wasn't drawn to his greasy, black hair and a pair of metallic bolts jammed into his neck that crackled with electricity every now and again; the large figure was colored a deep shade of mint green and was riddled with stitches across all available parts of his body, dressed in a white lab coat dotted with mysterious stains, a pair of brown dress pants, and large wading boots that looked like they were maybe three to seven sizes bigger than that of the average human.

"Can I help you?" Frankenstrike asked the strange creature that bared a striking resemblance to him.

The monster (for what else could it be described as?) huffed with annoyance and placed his hands on his hips in an authoritative gesture. "I've told you once already, young man, get off of my petunias before I call the police for trespassing!"

"Petunias?" Frankenstrike mumbled curiously as he climbed to his feet to stretch his aching body; it wasn't until after a series of cracks and pops from his loosening joints that he noticed he had, indeed, plopped himself down in the middle of a flower bed that encircled the trunk of the tree he had slept under the night prior to. "Oh." he said with a sheepish smile.

It seemed the monster was about to let him have it right then and there when the sound of a second set of feet hurriedly making its way across the grass quickly drew both of their attentions towards the source, the monstrous figure deflating slightly when he saw who it was. It was a girl, tall for her age, and covered with the same, mint green skin color as the hulking giant she was approaching with the exception that it was paler than his, though it seemed to sustain the same number of stitches that criss-crossed their way across her arms and long legs, accenting a pair of over-sized bolts jutting out of her neck when they encircled her throat and highlighting a pair of lovely, heterochromatic eyes, only colored a shade of ivy and the other a light shade of sky blue. Her slender hourglass figure, not too big or too small but somehow just right, was clothed in a plaid school girl's outfit with a silken skirt held in place by a rhinestone studded belt with a lightning bolt buckle and chains; a black tie rested itself across her concealed cleavage and the silvery skullette on its front were all but identical to the pair of earrings she wore beneath her thick, black and white streaked locks that reached all the way down to the small of her back.

"Dad, what have I told you about wearing your lab coat outside of the lab?" the girl frowned accusingly, undoubtedly the monster's daughter from the way she was scolded him with a shaking finger.

The hulking monster sighed. "Sorry, honey." he mumbled. "Immer ruinieren meinen SpaƟ."

"I heard that," the girl said to her father before she turned her attention to Frankenstrike, having to tilt her head up just to look at him in the eyes. "Hi, I'm Frankie! Nice to meet you!" she smiled brightly, sticking out her hand; the Transylian tenderly took it, noticing how utterly massive his hands were compared to her delicate fingers, almost three times their size.

"The name's . . . Frankenstrike." he introduced himself. It wasn't exactly a lie.

Frankie beamed brightly. "Nice to meet you. Sorry for asking, but are you a new student at Monster High? I haven't seen you around here before."

"Neither have I." Frankie's father added gruffly, folding his bulking arms over his chest as his bolts crackled with disapproval. "Honey, shouldn't you be getting for school?"

The young cadaver rolled her eyes. "Right, Dad." she smiled sweetly; Frankenstrike found that he had trouble taking his eyes off of the mint green-skinned girl beneath him. Somehow, despite the fact that she was most likely cobbled together from miscellaneous limbs and organs, those mismatched eyes, her sugary smile, and that adorable naivety she had about the world drew the Transylian to her. He watched with a thunderstruck look as her delicate fingers slipped out of his gargantuan digits and she turned to stroll back up the walk to her Swiss Chalet-like house, the walls painted a dark brackish color and with several odds and ends sticking up out of it such as a series of lightning rods, bizarre generators and devices, and even a large satellite dish bolted to the back roof. Before she disappeared back inside the door however, a thought occurred to her and turned back around to walk back to Frankenstrike.

This idea made her father stiffen slightly, just enough that Frankie wouldn't notice it but Frankenstrike would. "Do you want to come in for breakfast? It'll be more comfortable inside than standing out here in cold." she pointed out.

"Um . . ." Frankenstrike looked out of the corner of his eye at Frankie's father; not only was inviting himself in without permission quite rude, but if there was a small chance that he wouldn't be able to get home from wherever he had ended up, it wouldn't hurt to have people he knew. Especially people that didn't hate him.

Viktor Stein was brooding angrily, clenching his jaw tightly and subtly grinding his teeth as he glared closely at the Transylian with suspicious hatred. He knew that his sweet, innocent daughter was smart in her own right, already showing capabilities in creation and reanimation, but she still had a lot to learn about the world; one such example was to always be suspicious of strangers that mysteriously appeared on ones' flower bed from seemingly out of nowhere without an explanation. As if that wasn't fishy enough, the newcomer bared an oddly striking resemblance to both him and his family, possessing the similar stitching and patchwork skin, the hulking, muscled frame, the almost unintelligible look, and the frightening amount of electricity harbored within his body. If he had his way he would have thrown the stranger off of his property long ago, and he was now mentally cursing his inability to say 'no' to almost anything his beautiful daughter asked of him.

So it took great restraint for him not to give a reluctant sigh when he steely nodded his head, the slightest of smiles crossing his face when Frankie smiled, clapped her hands happily, and hugged him tightly. The young cadaver then whirled around and eagerly took hold of two of Frankenstrike's fingers, practically dragging his tremendous frame towards the front door (which was thankfully larger than an average-sized door to accommodate it's towering residents). Victor half expected one of the Transylian's arms to pop right off like his daughter's did so many times and began to follow after them . . . that is, after he glared disappointingly at his destroyed flower bed.

He made a mental note to send the young monster a bill.


"Do you like Scary-Os or Frosted Fangs?" Frankie asked aloud as she rummaged through the kitchen cabinets, standing on her tiptoes to do so; it seemed no matter her heritage, she was always just a little too short to reach and grab what her parents could easily grasp with their frightfully unnatural bodies. The kitchen was decked out with dark blue floorboards of exotic origin with the ceiling and walls painted a faded white to compliment the black cupboards and marbled counters that lined the walls. A large table with four chairs seated around it sat off in a corner of the kitchen that had been designated as the dining area, surrounded by large windows that looked down into the yard below. The chairs were slightly larger than normal, most likely to accommodate the residents of the house's large stature, though Frankie seemed to be the one exception.

"Uh, Scary-Os?" Frankenstrike tried. Back home he normally feasted upon whatever he could manage to grab on his way out the door, usually a breakfast bar, bowl of cereal, and sometimes even a plate of eggs, before his mother could wake up and attempt to cook up some of her 'health' food that was more along the lines of rat poisoning or insect repellent (at least, according to his taste buds). The sound of nails clicking against the floor caught his attention and the Transylian turned to see a tall woman come strolling into the kitchen wrapped up in a bathrobe with a small animal at her heels.

"Morning, dear." what Frankenstrike assumed to be Frankie's mother murmured sleepily, the bolts embedded in her neck that seemed to be a shared, family trait crackling unstably every now and again. She was tall like her husband, standing several feet over her daughter so that stood a good nine feet or so at full height while wearing a pair of plaid sweatpants and old T-shirt under her bathrobe; she shuffled about in her fuzzy slippers and it was only when she noticed that Frankie was pouring two bowls of cereal did she see Frankenstrike eating at the table.

Now, Viveka Stein was accustomed to Frankie bringing friends over for sleep overs, study groups, and the likes, and she was fine with that, seeing that most of them were ghouls and very close friends any way. Whenever any of the boys came over, her motherly instincts would kick in and her senses seemed to sharpen whenever they retreated to the living room or down into the basement that was Frankie's bedroom (her husband's laboratory was located even further underground, despite the fact that it had several large windows that flashed intensely with lighting every time he felt the need to emulate his father and cackle maniacally. This had later turned out to be voice activated video display for her husband's amusement, something she couldn't help but find childishly endearing), always on high alert to rush in should things get out of hand. Admittedly, she ignored those senses whenever it was Deuce or Clawd since their ghoulfriends were more than likely to beat them senseless if they tried anything with Frankie, and the Hyde brothers (if you could call them that) were charming in their own right, but Heath Burns was one of those boys that always managed to make the hairs on the back of Viveka's neck stand on end . . . especially since he had a record of accidentally setting fire to or melting anything he touched.

"Who's your friend, dear?" Viveka asked her daughter.

Frankie glanced back over her shoulder as she stood on tiptoe to put the box of cereal away. "Oh, that's Frankenstrike. We found him sleeping on Dad's petunias!"

"It's a long story." Victor grumbled under his breath as he lumbered into the kitchen past his wife.

"He's a new student at Monster High." Frankie added with a bright smile as she set his bowl of cereal down in front of him and took a seat next to the Transylian. The young cadaver was all but dwarfed by his mighty frame.

Viveka raised an eyebrow as she stirred her morning coffee next to a plate of ghost toast slathered with booberry jam. "Oh, he is, is he?"

"Apparently." Victor mumbled under his breath as he plunked himself down in the seat next to his wife with a massive plate of pancakes drowned in syrup in front of him and a pair of monstrous utensils to eat them with.

Frankenstrike took a cautious sniff of his cereal, having learned from experience that most new food had a tendency to fight back in his line of work, and was about to take a bite when a loud panting sound caught his attention. Looking down, the Transylian found himself looking at a pair of dichromatic eyes, the right one being blue and the left one green, attached to the face of an adorably small and playful puppy. At first glance, it would have looked like a puppy as well, had Frankenstrike not noticed that stitches arched across its body, separating patches of short, coarse, brown hair from the golden, shaggy spots; a pair of small, feathered wings sprouted from the animal's back, a set of gills puffed open and closed every few seconds just above the spiked collar around its neck, sharp spikes running in a row down its back from the head, and a rough tongue behind a set of powerful jaws.

"What is that?" Frankenstrike starred.

"That's Watzit my pet . . . something. I honestly don't know what he is, but his pet license is ten pages long." Frankie answered, whistling for her pet to come over. The animal barked happily and scampered over to her, rubbing affectionately against her leg as she scratched behind his ear. "Just don't call him a dog. He hates that." she added in hushed tone.

The conversation from there on lulled into null and void with the family and their guest awkwardly chewing and eating their various meals in silence until Frankenstrike attempted to strike up a conversation of some kind. "So . . . Mr. Stein? Did you make Watzit?"

The large, hulking monster nodded as he roughly stabbed a piece of pancake with his fork and shoved in his mouth, chewing as he talked. "Indeed. I took body parts from different species and stitched them together to create a pet for Frankie," Viktor answered, unfortunately forgetting he still had food in his mouth. "He has the brain of a dog, the spikes of a dragon, the eyes and fangs of a cat, the wings of a parrot, the fur of a monkey, the fins of a fish, and the stomach of a goat . . . I don't remember putting that in . . ." he added with a trail of annoyance made evident when the collection of animal parts began to playfully gnaw on the edge of his lab coat.

"Frankie, dear? Do you mind?" he coughed, pointing down at the small animal.

"Hmm? Oh, sure!" Frankie nodded, getting up from the table and crouching down to her beloved pets level to whisper something in his ear; the ear soon fell off afterwards before Frankie managed to fit it back in place and sent the happy animal scampering out the pet door and onto the front lawn, yipping and barking all the way.

"What'd you tell him?" Frankenstrike asked, eating a spoonful of Scary-Os. The cereal oddly enough, was that much different than what he usually managed to grab on his way out the door before his mother could attempt to feed him the vile concoction of health food she tried to pass off as pancakes or breakfast potatoes or even chilli fries; how Rook could even stand to eat the stuff while he could barely keep his lunch door from the mere smell of it was a mystery to him.

Frankie shrugged. "I told him if he could find the biggest bone he's buried out in the backyard for me I'd give him a treat."

"As long as he isn't burying them in my petunia patch." Victor cast a glance in Frankenstrike's direction as he pushed his chair back, got up from the table, and collected his silverware and plate to dump them into the dishwasher to be cleaned for later.

Viveka raised an eyebrow but decided not to push the matter just yet. "So, Frankenstrike, was it?" she asked. "Where do you come from?"

The Transylian nearly choked on his spoonful of cereal at the question, attempting to make it look like he had merely accidentally choked on his own spit instead of being startled at the question. "I . . . I, uh, come from . . . Bellwood." he replied.

"Bellwood, huh? Never heard of it." Viveka hummed, taking a bite out of her toast.

"That's because it's an incredibly small town in Nevada. You wouldn't even find it on a map." he quickly lied. While Bellwood was located not too far from Las Vegas, maybe a hundred miles or so to the West, it was far from being a small town that no one had ever heard of. With it's alien population now above and below ground and the fact that it was the hometown of the galaxy's most famous hero, it was well known across the world and was very popular among tourists for its alien attractions and the chance to see the ever heroic Ben 10 in action.

Fortuitously, Viveka seemed to buy it and let the subject drop as a loud, annoyed yell came from the kitchen. "Aaaaagh! Curse these fancy gadgets!" Victor's heavy voice yelled.

Frankie rolled her eyes. "Press the middle green button and twist the knob 10 degrees to the left!" she called out; the low hum of the dishwasher turning on soon followed and Frankie's father came shuffling out grumbling obscenities under his breath as he lumbered off to continue work in his subterranean laboratory.

Viveka felt the ghost of a smile cross her lips. "That's Victor for you. Able to solve the most complicated equations known to man or monster and reanimate corpses from the dead, and yet he can't even comprehend how to operate a dishwasher."

Frankie laughed. "It's like I'm the teacher and you guys are the students for a change." she giggled.

Frankie's mother rolled her eyes with amusement. "Frankie dear, you and your new friend should probably get going to school." she said, clearing her dishes and snagging both Frankie and Frankenstrike's bowls; the young cadaver nodded and jumped out of her chair, the sound of her feet pounding on the basement stairs resonating throughout the house as she hurriedly gathered her books and papers and things and hoping she didn't forget to do last night's homework assignments. Unsure of what to do while he waited, the Transylian excused himself from the table and made his way to the front door to wait for Frankie, wondering if it was really wise to follow her to school. Then again, he didn't currently have anything better to do, and if was going to be stuck here for a while it was always good to have allies.

It was then that the Transylian noticed a series of framed photos hanging on the wall next to him, one right above the other in what he could guess to be a descending, chronological order. The first picture was colored black and white, no doubt taken a very long time ago and long before colored images were invented; standing proudly at the alter with a skeleton priest to bind them together was what Frankenstrike guessed to be Frankie's parents on their wedding day, the two monsters stuck forever in an eternal liplock of love. Standing off to the side and wiping a tear of joy from his eye was an aged man with frazzled, white hair and a pair of spectacles over his greatly weathered eyes. He wore a slightly torn and battered tuxedo, as if it could have possibly been stolen from a grave, and chose to wore a pair of rubber gloves over his hands for the special occasion. Standing stooped and beneath him was a hunchbacked ghoul with a funny-looking smile and odd eyes dressed in a tuxedo to suit his unique physique, a plush pillow in his hands marking him as the ringbearer.

The second framed photo was colored this time, signifying it had been taken relatively recently in comparison to the previous picture despite the fact that the setting was dark and damp and sheltered away from almost any natural light. Victor loomed over a lab table dressed in a lab coat covered in mysterious and fresh stains with a pair of protective goggles over his eyes and rubber gloves on his mighty hands while he cackled madly; Viveka was slightly less enthusiastic than her husband eagerly hugging what Frankenstrike realized to be a recently made and incredibly bewildered Frankie Stein.

"Well, that's one way of making the perfect child." Frankenstrike chuckled to himself with amusement.

The third photo was similar to the last in the fact that it seemed to take place in the same, dark laboratory with a set of gigantic conductors hanging from the ceiling with a tremendous amount of electricity crackling between them. Down on the floor was Frankie dressed in a lab coat and a pair of goggles just her size pulled over her head; her stitch-laced arms were wrapped around a recently awakened Watzit while the small animal happily licked her cheek as the young cadaver's parents watched from the sidelines with proud smiles upon their faces.

A soft scratching caught his attention and he turned towards the source of the sound, finding that it was the front door. The door knob thankfully already looked slightly squished as he closed his fingers around it and pulled the door open to look down and find Watzit sitting on his haunches, panting eagerly. With a chuckle, the Transylian stooped down and rewarded the canine-like animal with a good scratch behind the ear. "Do you find a bone, boy?" he joked.

Surprisingly, Watzit barked eagerly and wagged his tail happily before scampering back out the door and out onto the front lawn. Following with his eyes, Frankenstrike felt his jaw nearly drop to the ground when he saw the overjoyed pet hungrily gnaw on the toe bone of a gigantic Brontosaurus skeleton, the single bone almost dwarfing Watzit entirely as he attempted to dig his little fangs in for a meal; the titanic dinosaur skeleton however, didn't seem to even stun Frankie as she came strolling out the front door with her backpack strapped in place.

"Good boy!" Frankie cooed affectionately, scratching her pet under the chin before rewarding Watzit with what could only be described as a sardine stuffed inside of a T-bone steak and slathered in mashed bananas, custom made for the collage of animal parts sewn together. "Just make sure you put it back!"

Frankenstrike continued to stare, hardly even aware when Frankie grabbed hold of two of his massive fingers and practically pulled himself across the front lawn. "C'mon!" she smiled excitedly. "I can't wait for you to meet my friends. I'm sure they'll like you!"

I hope they do, Ben thought to himself as he was all but he dragged down the sidewalk by Frankie.

So what do you think? Good? Bad? Somewhere in between? Please review in the comments below, and if you liked it, I'll try to have the next chapter out by next week, but I can't make any promises.