Frankenstein and Dracula: A Most Inconvenient Courtship
Chapter 3 — The Bride of Both Monsters
← Stacey Melbourne / Frankenstein and Dracula: A Most Inconvenient Courtship
The floor exploded.
A hand emerged through the wooden boards.
Mary screamed.
Dracula transformed into a swarm of bats.
The creature leapt backwards.
The hand grasped the edge of the hole.
Then a head appeared.
Victor Frankenstein climbed into the dining room.
He looked exhausted.
His hair was wild.
His clothes were torn.
And he carried a leather case containing what appeared to be several human organs.
Mary stared.
“Victor?”
He looked at her.
“Mary.”
Dracula reappeared.
“Frankenstein.”
The creature stepped forward.
“Creator.”
Victor looked at him.
For a moment, no one spoke.
Then Victor sighed.
“This is exactly what I was afraid of.”
Mary folded her arms.
“You have been searching for me.”
“I needed your manuscript.”
“Why?”
Victor opened the leather case.
“Because I have discovered how to bring the dead back.”
Dracula looked intrigued.
“Really?”
Victor nodded.
“I require only the correct combination of electrical current, biological material and—”
The creature interrupted.
“Regret.”
Victor stopped.
“What?”
“Regret,” said the creature. “You forgot that.”
Victor stared at him.
Mary looked at her creation.
He seemed different.
Not less monstrous.
Something stranger.
Something wiser.
Dracula approached Victor.
“You have been attempting to create life.”
“Yes.”
“How interesting.”
“You have lived for centuries,” Victor replied. “You know things about death that science cannot explain.”
Dracula smiled.
“I know rather more about death than I care to.”
Mary stepped between them.
“And what exactly do you intend to do with this knowledge?”
Victor looked at her.
“I intend to correct my mistake.”
The creature’s face hardened.
“You intend to make another.”
Victor opened his mouth.
No words came.
Mary understood then.
The real horror was not that monsters existed.
It was that men kept creating them.
She turned toward Dracula.
“And you?”
“Yes?”
“Why did you come here?”
Dracula looked embarrassed.
It was possibly the first time Mary had ever seen a vampire embarrassed.
“I wanted companionship.”
Mary raised an eyebrow.
“Companionship?”
“Yes.”
“You drink people’s blood.”
“Only occasionally.”
“You are immortal.”
“That can become rather lonely.”
Mary softened.
“And you?”
She looked at the creature.
He lowered his head.
“I wanted someone who would not be frightened of me.”
Mary smiled.
“Well.”
She looked at both of them.
“I am not frightened.”
Dracula smiled.
The creature smiled.
Victor cleared his throat.
“And what about me?”
Mary looked at him.
“No.”
Victor nodded.
“Fair enough.”
A silence settled over the room.
Then Dracula spoke.
“Perhaps there is another arrangement.”
Mary looked at him suspiciously.
“What arrangement?”
“We could all remain friends.”
The creature considered this.
“I suppose I could tolerate him.”
Dracula looked offended.
“And I suppose I could tolerate you.”
Mary laughed.
Victor sighed.
Outside, the storm began to weaken.
The moon emerged from behind the clouds.
For the first time that night, the manor seemed almost peaceful.
Then Mary noticed something.
The leather case Victor had brought was open.
Inside was a single human heart.
It was beating.
Slowly.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
Everyone stared.
Victor went pale.
“I did not put that there.”
Dracula stepped backwards.
The creature moved in front of Mary.
The heart continued beating.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
Then it spoke.
“Mary.”
She froze.
The voice was faint.
Almost a whisper.
“Mary Shelley.”
Dracula’s eyes widened.
The creature’s fists tightened.
Victor stared in horror.
The heart beat faster.
“Your story is not finished.”
The candles went out.
And from somewhere deep beneath the manor came the sound of hundreds of voices whispering the same words.
“Not finished.”
Mary stood in darkness between a vampire and a creature.
She smiled.
Because she finally understood.
She had spent her life writing about monsters.
Now the monsters were writing back.
And she was beginning to suspect that the next chapter belonged to her.
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About Stacey Melbourne
Stacey Melbourne is a writer of darkly comic gothic fiction. Frankenstein and Dracula: A Most Inconvenient Courtship is her first piece for Tales From A Harrogate Caravan.
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