A/N: PLEASE READ! AS you know this story has been discontinued. This is not a new chapter, but a preview of what another author, Mikel Midnight, has written. I have given my permission for him/her to use whatever from Target. This next chapter and the one previous are what they have come up with for a different story of their own. Please read and enjoy. :)
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Chapter 7: The Monster's POV
"It's going to be a terrific storm," Pretorius announced, eyes heavenward. Lightning flashed through the skies, as nature itself seemed to announce its objection as the bandaged-wrapped body, strapped onto its mechanical platform, was raised slowly through the skylight.
Frankenstein looked at the dials which were attached to sensors on the female form above. "My God, you were right," he said. "Whatever it was used for originally, that ancient bauble seems to be energizing the body … the electrical impulses in the atmosphere are actually registering inside its nerve endings."
"Release that woman!" A third voice is heard is the room, and the two scientists are startled by the appearance of a pair of intruders in their laboratory: the speaker was tall and lean and hawk-like, the other shorter and rotund with a waxed moustache. Both of them were carrying handguns. "You must cease this profane madness," said the other man.
Pretorius blinked. "Who dares?"
"Sherlock Holmes, at your service," he said, his voice dripping anger and sarcasm, and this is my compatriot, Hercule Poirot. Release Mrs. Roger now before we are forced to fire on you."
Frankenstein and Pretorius looked at one another, and the former nodded. "We are done, and shall do as you say. Although I believe you will be disappointed … the woman who was once Jo Roger is now something much grander."
As the platform began to descend, Frankenstein eyed the two men warily. "How did you find us?"
"It was elementary," Holmes said. "You had used an antique scalpel of German manufacture to pry open the safe. Moreover, you left behind a piece of your jacket … a wool and weave which is sold primarily in Ingolstadt."
"Your grand-père's reputation preceded you," Poirot continued. "It was nothing to determine where you had located yourself … and where you had taken poor Mrs. Roger."
Pretorius began to remove the bandages from the creature's face, and the now-revealed eyes focused clearly on him. "She's alive! Alive!" Frankenstein shouted in his excitement. The two scientists tilted the platform so that the feminine figure was upright. Her face was severe but had an eerie beauty; only some of Jo March's features were recognisable in it. Her hair rose up over her head darkly, streaked with white.
"What monstrosity is this?" Holmes asked, taken aback.
"The Bride of the Monster," Pretorius replied, and for the first time the two detectives took note of the grotesquely tall figure standing in the shadows in a corner of the laboratory.
Poirot cursed, his gun alternating back and forth between the scientists and the new arrival. "I had thought it only fiction … ou le Prométhée Moderne," he said quietly.
The monster began to lurch towards the new creation. "Friend? Friend?" he asked, his craggy face expressing an innocent yearning. He was rewarded only by a shriek from the Bride, who although newly born regarded his grotesque features as horrifying.
The Monster scowled, "She hate me. Like others." He roared his fury, and began to rage about the laboratory, massive fists striking out at the equipment.
Holmes and Poirot fired at him, and he responded with pain, but that only served to increase his rage. Following some destructive instinct, he headed towards the lever which controlled the shutoff to the laboratory's cooling system.
Frankenstein shouted out, "Look out! The lever!"
Pretorius' voice took on a pleading tone. "Get away from that lever. You'll blow us all to atoms."
The Monster looked at the two detectives, somehow sensing their innocence. He beckoned to them and Frankenstein, somehow unable to kill the man who shared lineage with his creator. "You live! Go!"
Poirot turned to Holmes, "We can't leave Mrs. Roger, we can't."
Holmes scowled, as an alarm siren began to emit a shrieking sound. "I don't think there is anything of the original Mrs. Roger left." He took Frankenstein by the shoulders and began to hustle him out.
The Monster beckoned to Pretorius next. "You stay! We belong dead!" As flames began to flicker about the laboratory, weakening the beams which held the building in place so that it began to crumble around them, he reached out and took the Bride by the wrist, who responded by recoiling and emitting a snake-like hiss. "We belong together," he said, pressing his lips to hers in a kiss.