The Dark Descent of Elizabeth Frankenstein

by Kiersten White

The sound of rain hitting an ever-deepening puddle competed with the wild pounding of my heart to make music of discord and chaos.

Victor could create life, yes. But he could not give it a soul, a higher morality, that thing which separated us from animals. That was why his experiment had both succeeded and miserably, devastatingly failed.

“It was not his mind I loved. It was his esteem for me. He valued me when no one else did. And I thought it made me special, that he loved only me. I should have realized that his inability to love anyone else just meant something was wrong with him.”