Prometheus

Prologue

Victor lay in bed, gasping for breath. He knew his time was near. His white sightless eyes stared up into the darkness as images of his life roiled through his mind. Images of a friend strangled, his neck bruised by the large hands that did it, then a laboratory with sparks flying through the air, and that of a monster, one of his own making.

Victor choked, hacking and coughing until he could finally breath again. It made him remember, the events that destroyed him, made him a recluse for the last twenty-five years, or was it twenty-six? He no longer knew the date. It didn’t matter when he had so little time left. Then he remembered how he was supposed to be dead already. That was the public reports, and later how she portrayed him. Dead following a madness. He had been mad, insane to the point of losing everything, even himself.

His breathing slowed, shallow, as he saw the moment that monster came to life. The terrible realization of what he had done when that “dull yellow eye”1 stared up at him. He had done it, created life that was once the province of some god that no one ever saw. He knew, after all that happened, there was no god. No god would have allowed him to do what he had done.

He wondered where the monster was now. He had heard the rumors and knew what she wrote, where he took one last journey into the vast frozen artic. Could it be? He smiled at the notion of the monster buried in the depths of the artic ocean, frozen for time immemorial. He choked again, coughing, then gasped for breath. Then he grew calm, let his eyes close, and ceased breathing.

Another Comes to Play God

Steffen strolled down the street, avoiding the horse drawn carriages and men on horseback. He moved past women out for a stroll or window shopping and continued down to a narrow street that went deeper into the old fortress city. He passed a tavern, then shops selling trinkets and worthless rocks that were supposed to cure illness and allow one to see in the future. Such nonsense he thought as he stepped around a man staring through a shop window at the tarot cards spread out on red velvet. It was such foolishness that even the cards of an old game were gaining a new mythic aspect. It was bad enough men still thought distant stars had some influence on their lives.

Steffen turned down a side street, one running parallel with the main road, and followed it to a nondescript building on the south side of the street. It put the façade in shadow. All the windows were dark, depthless, except for two by the front entrance. He climbed the steps that led up to the front door and entered the gallery. A stair rose in front of him, climbing up to the upper floors, four in total, not counting the penthouse on top, one he knew was only accessible from the apartment he came to see for himself. He knew it was probably futile, for Dr. Frankenstein had been dead for six years and the university had taken over right after and cleared out his laboratory while denying its existence to the public. Such deceit to conceal what they were ashamed to admit. The experiment in creating life so many considered an abomination. But to Steffen it was no abomination, but a grand success of science. It was the first time, so of course there were problems. A result that was less than desired. But he knew he could improve upon it. He had done his own research and had only one grievous gap in his research. The chemical element used in the body to hold it in a state of stasis until the moment life is restored. If only he could find Dr. Frankenstein’s journal.

Steffen knocked on the door to the apartment to the right of entry, the only one occupied. He heard footsteps, then the throw of the lock. An old woman, hunched back, hair thinning, face wrinkled by time, peered around the door.

“Can I help you?”

“Yes, yes, I’m Dr. Steffen Geiss. I wrote you about…”

“OH, yes, I remember. Frieda at the university said to expect you. You come to see Dr. Frankenstein’s apartment.”

“Yes, can I see it now.”

“Of course, although what you find will be a great disappointment. The university cleared it out right after his death. There isn’t much left in it.”

“I understand.”

“Just a minute and I’ll get the key.”

Steffen had climbed to the top floor and moved to the door. He knew this apartment was larger than the others, thus took up the entire left side. It had given Dr. Frankenstein the privacy he needed, and Steffen knew that privacy was made better by the doctor’s laboratory located in the penthouse, isolating it from the other apartments. He unlocked the door and pushed it open, the hinges squeaking from lack of use. Before stepping in, he looked across the landing at the doors opposite, then down to the lower floors. How the people who had lived in them never knew of the greatness that had unfolded over their very heads. He smiled, then stepped into the dark apartment.

The front parlor was bare except for an empty bookcase and one worn armchair. It saddened him to see such neglect. He strolled through the room, entering the dining room, then went back into the foyer and up the stair. He climbed past the floor where bedrooms lined the hall up to the penthouse. At the top of the stair there was a small landing, barely large enough for one person to stand. In front of him was a door and he saw the cuffs marks and splintered wood near the latch, and he wondered how much of the old rumors were true.

The door swung open easily and he entered a small room. There were empty bookshelves and scuff marks on the floor where a desk had been dragged across the floor. He knew this was his office, the place the great doctor wrote of his experiments. He sensed the history of it in the dust and stale air. To his right was another door and he knew before opening it, it was the one he sought.

The room was large, one space that sat over the apartment below. Dormers with large windows protruded through the angled wall along the rear side, showing how the room sat under the roof. All along the walls were signs of where equipment or furniture sat. Bolts stuck up out of the wood floor where equipment had been bolted down. There were scorch marks in the center of the room and around one window.

Steffen strolled into the room sensing the discoveries that were made in it. His heart raced as he grew excited just by being there. If only he had been there, maybe an apprentice to Dr. Victor Frankenstein. He could have seen the beginning of what he considered the greatest research by man. A cure for death. The ability to reanimate a man so he could continue with his research or technological advancements or new insights into the sciences. He rubbed the toe of his shoe over one of the scorch marks on the floor, imaging the electrical surge of power from a lighting strike. He smiled at the power one bolt of lightning would contain. Power he would day need to tap into just as Dr. Frankenstein had done.

Steffen moved around the large room, looked into the two empty storage rooms off the back, then stood at the door looking back. The university had done a thorough job of removing everything. If the journal was in this room, the university was in possession of it now.

Descending the stair down to the second level of the apartment, he wondered how thorough the movers had been on the lower two floors. He went down the gallery, entering each bed chamber and storage room. It was obvious most had seen little use, the floors unmarred beneath the dust. The bed chamber at the front of the apartment, the one that overlooked the street below and was the largest of the rooms, was obviously Dr. Frankenstein’s room. The floor was marred where someone moved a chair or some other piece of furniture across it. And more telling, a side table and one armchair were left in the room. They were covered in dust, and the fabric on the chair faded and worn.

Steffen ran a finger over the back of the chair, and he felt a temptation to sit in it, just to sit where Dr. Frankenstein had once sat. At the large windows, he looked down at the narrow street below where one lone woman was passing by. He had been surprised how tucked away the apartment building had been from the main streets, but when he considered the experiments done above, it became apparent why Dr. Frankenstein would choose such a place.

He went into the closet, really a small room with shelves along one wall and rods for hanging garments on the other. On the back wall a mirror was secured to it, the heads of the eight screws visible around its perimeter.  He looked at the empty shelves, the scuffed floor, testing a few boards with his shoe, finding each snug and tight. Disappointed, he backed out of the room, ready to go downstairs. But he stopped when he saw his reflection.

He had seen a mirror downstairs and a fixture for a candle still mounted on the wall and knew anything the movers didn’t want to take the time to remove was left behind. But the mirror in the closet nagged at him, for the small room would always be dark, even with a candle in hand. It would have been better mounted on a wall in the bed chamber, not in this small room. He approached it, more curious about it than he knew was reasonable. He ran his hand along the narrow wood frame, over a couple of the screws. He pushed against the frame and felt it move ever so slightly. He pushed on the other side, feeling it hold steady against the pressure. Back to the side that moved, he ran his hand along the wall near the frame. He felt each joint between the planks that made up the wall finish. Near the top of the mirror there was a joint in the plank and when he pushed on it near the frame, it pivoted, the side near the mirror swinging inward. Reaching into the gap, he felt around quickly finding a metal latch on the side. He fumbled with it until hearing it release. The mirror swung outward enough for him to get his fingers behind it and pull it open all the way.

The bottom section was just the wall behind the mirror, but at the top, right at eye level were two shelves. On the upper shelf sat two small boxes, and on the bottom, a leather-bound journal. It looked well used with the leather stained. He slid it out and rubbed over one stain, knowing it was blood.

Chasing Rumors

Camden Harris strolled down the narrow street. One of many like it in the old historic city. He had been strolling around all morning, his second day in the city, looking in bookstores that promised rare or old volumes.  He had been surprised there had only been three bookstores that held out promise. He had visited one the day before after arriving in the city, the second that morning, and now he was walking to the third store.

Camden was an American student, studying literature at the University of Edinburgh. He was a post graduate student, finally doing study for the genre of literature that had lured him into the major. He loved literature of the nineteenth and twentieth century, and none more than horror. Edgar Allan Poe, Bram Stoker, Shirley Jackson, and the author of his favorite story, Mary Shelley.  He had gone through his studies doing reports and research on other authors, other genres of literature, saving horror for his post graduate study. It gave him the ability to really focus on one author and her creation: Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein; or The Modern Prometheus.

He was between semesters, in Ingolstadt following a lead from a journal of a William Clerval that referenced an uncle by the name of Henry Clerval, saying he was murdered in Ingolstadt. It was a tantalizing thing to read, the insinuation made by the reference too shocking to be believable. But he wanted to believe that there could be some truth to the story. How he found the reference was pure luck. He had been in the archives at Edinburgh, searching for a review on Mary Shelley’s book for when it first arrived in the United Kingdom. He poured through old documents and microfilm not yet converted to digital format. Flipping through microfilm, he stumbled on a series of letters, one by William Clerval writing a Rose Galbraith. It was a letter between lovers, William away in Germany. It was the reason William was in Germany, and more specifically Ingolstadt, that caught Camden’s eye. He was there to retrieve his uncle’s belongings on behalf of the family. The items had been held for over a decade and would soon be destroyed if not retrieved.

So, Camden was Ingolstadt looking for any reference to Mary Shelley or a Dr. Victor Frankenstein. Part of him felt it was a fool’s errand, but another was too tantalized by the prospect to let it go.

With the sound of the busy street behind him, he moved along the narrow street deeper into the middle of the block. He came to a small courtyard and saw most of the buildings were apartments and by their appearance had been for a long time. Through a passageway, he left the courtyard and entered another narrow alley. There was a bar and an empty shop, the storefront papered over, and at the end of the alley facing another small courtyard, sat a used bookstore. It was the one he sought, and he pushed open the large wood door and entered the dark interior.

Camden stood in awe at what he beheld. It was the bookstore from every fairy tale, every novel that toyed with a mythical nature surrounding old books. He smiled as he scanned the mezzanine that wrapped the sides and rear of the space. It was narrow, barely wide of enough for a person to navigate it, but from floor to ceiling it was lined with bookshelves filled with books. Looking back at the main space in front of him, he saw tables stacked with what he assumed were special editions and behind them bookshelves filled with more books. To his right was a counter with a man looking his way. He took a breath and repeated to himself the German phrases he would need to communicate.

“Good afternoon, my sign is Camden. I’m an American study at Edinburgh and I’m here to eye books on Mary Shelley and her writings, manly Frankenstein.”

The man looked at him with amusement. He turned and looked toward the back of the store.

“Jerrell, come here,” he called out in German.

Camden caught the name and the request, and he turned to the sound of someone coming from the back of the store. He held his breath, trying to compose himself. A guy about his own age, tall, dirty blonde hair and a lean build came toward him. He had seen many men that captured his eye since arriving in Germany, but Jerrell took his breath away.

“This is an American,” the man said.

“Oh, hey, my name is Jerrell.”

“I gathered that part,” Camden replied, relieved someone could speak English.

“My father’s English is horrible, so you’re stuck with me.”

“My German is horrible, so I’m thankful,” Camden replied, thinking in more ways than one.

“What can we help you with?”

Camden explained his research for his post graduate studies, and how it was Mary Shelley he was focused on, and her book, Frankenstein. He tried to be vague but hinted at some aspects of her life and the book that might be based on some historical events or people of the time, and he was in search of any documents that might relate to her, her writing, or anything that spoke of her during the time of her writing the book and right after its publication.

“You know the story, how she first wrote part of the story as a dare by Lord Bryon?” asked Jerrell.

“Yes, and if there is more information about it, that would be helpful too.”

“There is a section of horror in back I can show you, and we do have some old journals, but I doubt any of those will be of help. Come on back,” said Jerrell as he headed toward the rear of the store.

There were copies of Shelley’s book, along with Jackson, Poe, and many of the others. Camden found a copy of The Sorrows of Satan by Marie Corelli, snagging it for his collections despite the cost. But it soon became apparent there was nothing within the shelves that would shed new light on Shelley or her novel.

“I’m sorry, but I think you’re looking for something that won’t be in any books store,” whispered Jerrell, after looking toward the front of the store to make sure his father was not nearby. “I may know of a journal that might be of interest.”

“A journal? You have a journal here…”

“No, it’s not here. I’m at Freie Universitat – Berlin, and I work in the English department’s archives.”

“And?”

“I found this journal by a Dr. Geiss who mentioned Dr. Frankenstein as if he really existed.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes.”

“I have to see it. Can we go to Berlin and…”

“Shhh,” Jerrell hushed Camden, looking toward the front again worried his father might have heard. “I can show you, but it’ll be Monday before I can get away. Father needs me through the weekend. Can you wait until then to go?”

“Yes, yes, I’ve planned to be in Germany for two weeks, and I was going to Berlin as part of my search.  If you can go for a couple of days, I’ll get a room with a bed for you and…” Camden suddenly stopped, realizing he was talking too fast, too excited to think. “I’m sorry for being pushy, but this is important to me.”

Jerrell laughed, shaking his head. “I can tell. But I’d like to go with you to Berlin and show you the journal. My professor blew it off as the rantings of some crazy doctor. You see, the journal is a bit bizarre.”

“About reanimating a body?”

“Yeah.”

Camden found himself staring at Jerrell. The blue eyes, the angular facial features with high cheek bones and thin lips curling into a smile. He blinked, then looked away.

“Can you meet me at the train station Monday morning, or would you like me to swing by your place and pick you up on the way?” asked Camden as he pretended to look at more books on the shelves.

“I can meet you at the station. There is a train that departs at eight. I’ll see you there at seven, and we can get coffee before boarding.”

Camden positioned himself at the main entrance to the station watching for Jerrell. He was so excited he found himself pacing back and forth and trying to distract himself by looking at the men coming into the station. He surveyed those that caught his eye, picking out the ones he would have sex with if given the chance. It only made him more aware of how much he was attracted to Jerrell. Every tall lean young man with dirty blonde hair that approached the station was a moment of hope, that Jerrell had made it. He looked at his watch and saw it was still a few minutes prior to seven.

Looking into the window at his reflection, Camden fret about his looks. He ran his hand through his hair, straightened his collar, and stared at the young man looking back. Did he look good enough? Did it matter? He suddenly realized Jerrell was walking up behind him. He changed his expression and turned.

“Hey, you ready to go?”

“Yes. Let’s grab some coffee and something to eat, then get our tickets.”

“I got the tickets,” Camden replied, reaching into his shirt pocket holding them up.

Jerrell sat by the window with Camden next to him. It let Camden look out the window and Jerrell at the same time. He saw a small scare under the right eye, the shape of the nose, curvature of the ear, and the shadow of a beard along the jaw. Then there were the vivid blue eyes, that looked around the room, then back toward him. At times it seemed Jerrell knew he was looking at him and not out the window. A small smile and the arching up of one eyebrow, sometimes with a mid-sentence break, a slight hesitation that spoke of his own distraction.

Camden wanted to flirt with Jerrell. He wanted to explore his attraction. It was such a natural thing, a person pursuing their sexual attraction for the pleasure it provides them. But Jerrell was someone he was using to find out information for his study, and his stay in Germany was for only two weeks. He knew guys hooked up for just a night or two all the time. He had done it. Met someone at a bar or a charity event and ended up with them in his bed for the night. It was about the sexual pleasure. Listening to Jerrell talk of his studies then what to expect at the archives, he looked at him, the physical aspects feeling an attraction he wanted to pursue. But he was hesitant, something holding him back. He didn’t even know if Jerrell was gay or bisexual, but that wasn’t why he was refraining.

They neared Berlin, the train noticeably slowing down, Jerrell turned to face Camden.

“Thanks for inviting me. I’m looking forward to hanging out with you.”

“No, thank you. You’re helping me, remember? Maybe while we’re here we can relax too. Have dinner somewhere nice and have some fun too,” said Camden, wondering if Jerrell knew what he meant.

“I’d like that,” Jerrell replied, placing a hand on Camden’s thigh, then just as quickly removing it.

But the feel of the hand lingered, and Camden couldn’t help but believe Jerrell was thinking the same.

Jerrell led Camden into the archives, the first room, large with neat rows of shelves. The air was dry and warm, Camden knowing it had to be conditioned for optimal humidity and temperature. Jerrell moved through the room, passing through a collection of old books, loose stacks of paper, journals, and rolls of documents. Camden caught the shelf label of one seeing it was surveys from 1800-1825, and he wondered if there would be one of Ingolstadt from that period.

Jerrell unlocked a door at the back of the room and pushed it open.

“This is archives that have not been cataloged. Most are of no significance, tax records or private journals or accounting ledgers that only someone studying the particular aspects of a certain period would find any interest.”

“And you found a doctor’s journal referencing Dr. Frankenstein in here?”

“Yes. I know. What was it doing in this room?”

“This building, it’s not that old, how did no one find it when the collection was moved?”

“Not sure, but I bet they carefully moved the stuff out there, but all of this was probably moved in bulk.”

“So, where is this journal?”

Jerrell smiled, then looked across the room with its high shelving.

“I think it was with some documents from Ingolstadt concerning tax collections, if I remember correctly.”

“You don’t remember where you saw it?” asked Camden, getting worried.

“There were only four sections I had been digging around in, so it shouldn’t take long to find it. Come on, let’s check the Ingolstadt section first.”

The first two sections they searched turned up nothing. No sign of a journal by a Dr. Geiss. Jerrell led Camden across the back of the room looking down the aisles searching for the next section, writings by unknown authors of the mid-1800’s.

“This is the aisle,” said Jerrell, turning down the next to last aisle.

Camden was so excited he could feel his heart racing as he followed Jerrell. There was a section of poetry, then biographies of people he had never heard of, then there was the section labeled ‘Literature – 1826-1850’ followed by ‘Literature – 1851-1875’.

“Which one?” asked Camden.

“Don’t remember, but look for a thick journal, about 5 to 6 centimeters, and tall, 38 to 40 centimeters, and dark brown.”

“Anything written on it?”

“Nothing, but it’ll be lying flat with some other large volumes.”

 Jerrell took the second section while Camden took the first. He scanned the titles, some catching his eye and any other time he would have wanted to browse them. But he was anxious to find the journal and keep scanning the books. Some were set upright, packed tightly on the shelf and he skipped past them, but others were laid flat, and he knew those were the ones considered to have some value, also the areas to search. He moved from top to bottom, one section after the next. He was in the last section for the years he had taken and was down to the shelf below his waist, making him stoop to see clearly. There was a book of children’s stories with the grimmest image on the cover. Just below it a dark brown binding was visible. It was thick and as tall as the books above and below it, blending in with them. In the shadows of the lower shelf, it was nearly invisible.

“I think I found it,” Camden whispered, afraid he would yell if he didn’t do so.

“Really,” Jerrell replied moving next to him as he stood with the journal in his hand. “That’s it.”

Camden opened the book, Jerrell holding the front cover to balance it as he turned the pages. There was page after page of nothing but tight handwriting, the letters sloping as if hurrying across the page. It was German and he could only read some of it. After halfway through, sketches began to appear, diagrams of equipment, chemical diagrams, and long formulas that meant nothing to him.

“Let’s go to a table and look through it,” said Jerrell.

“I wish I could take it for a few days,” said Camden.

“No archive material can leave premises.”

“I know. Where’s the tables?”

Back in the main room sitting a table near the staff counter, they sat next to each other and slowly thumbed through the book with Jerrell reading sections aloud that seemed important.

“No reference to Frankenstein?” asked Camden as he turned another page, seeing they were near the halfway point.

“Not yet. Keep going; this is just body preparation notes, and I don’t understand any of it.”

They came to the first sketch, one of a body with tubes connected to it and submerged in a tank.

“It says something about keeping the tissue warm and something about the particles of flesh.”

“He was doing his own research into life?”

“Yes.”

Through the pages they scanned the writing and looked at the sketches as they got more detailed and more bizarre. One showed a human head from the back side, the skin parted and the skull drilled with four holes. It was below this sketch they saw it and froze.

VF: hindbrain to be kept stimulated more than the other sections. How?

Dr. Geiss had made a notation below his notes, with the question at the end. For a scientist it had be the most frustrating aspect. Determining how another had accomplished something.

“VF? Victor Frankenstein?” asked Camden.

“Maybe…that is what I think, for somewhere further back he spells out his name.”

Camden turned page after page as the two of them scanned them looking for other references, finding them more and more often. Finally, three quarters of the way through the book they found it.

Dr. Victor Frankenstein’s journal mentions a chemical I do not know how to make. He lists the ingredients, but in his haste, so evident in that part of his journal with sloppy handwriting and a complete lack of protocol in recording things, has not listed the quantities of each and how to prepare them. One is a poison, therefore can not be used in any substantial quantity. I must figure this out or I can not proceed in my experiments.

“He really existed. He was real,” Camden whispered as he leaned back staring at the page, the name the center of his focus.

“Unless this journal is fake too. A literary deceit.”

“You really think that?”

“No.”

“It’s getting late, so let’s keep going.”

Near the end of the journal, an image of a human body floating in a tank and hooked up to another pieced of equipment. From it, wires went up to an antenna. Below the image, a diagram of the piece of equipment showing coils of wire within some material along with two cylinders with a reference label on each one, and wired to each, other components.

“What is that?” Camden asked pointing to the image.

“I don’t know, but I can find out,” Jerrell replied, taking out his cell phone. He took a photograph of the image, cropped out all the surroundings making sure there were no references to Dr. Geiss, and sent it via text message to someone. “A friend from university who is an electrical engineer major,” he added in answer to who he sent it.

They continued flipping through pages, Camden making notes at each reference to V.F. There were only a few pages left when they came to a page Camden wanted to copy. At the top it was titled “V.F.’s conclusions and areas needing further research.” The notes filled the next two pages.

“Can we copy these two pages?”

“Sure. Just ask the woman at the counter,” said Jerrell as he pulled out his phone for it had beeped with a message being received. “Steven replied,” upon seeing the screen.

“What does he say?”

“It’s a transformer. But he said it doesn’t make sense. It is…overbuilt and too large with redundancy of the core and winding and there are fusible links between each section. He said it looked like someone was trying to step down a large voltage, almost like they were looking to use lightning.”

“Lightning? So that part was true.”

“It would seem so. Go get these two pages copied, then we’ll finish looking through it.”

Camden returned with a copy of the two pages and settled back into his chair next Jerrell. As they flipped through the last pages that appeared to be summaries and miscellaneous notes, he became aware of their closeness. There seemed to be a heat radiating from Jerrell. He could feel it. Then he let his emotions get the best of him and did it, let his knee bump against Jerrell’s knee, then he pulled away quickly pretending it was just an accident. Jerrell turned another page, and he felt a bump against his knee, Jerrell returning the gesture. He smiled despite the reveal of it and saw Jerrell smiling at him.

“That’s it,” Jerrell said flipping the last page, then reaching for the back cover to close the journal.

“Wait!” exclaimed Camden.

Written up along the spine of the book in a tight slanted writing, but smaller in size:

VF journal – 1700-1799 Maps/Surveys

“Oh shit, do you think?” Camden asked, so excited he was shaking.

“That Dr. Geiss, or someone else, hid the journal in another section of the archives? It looks that way, and it would make sense. What if they had hidden this journal and knew the two should not be together to make them more inconspicuous, hidding Dr. Frankenstein’s in another section. It makes sense.”

“Attention. Attention. We are closing in five minutes. Please return all volumes or documents to the front desk and exit the building.”

“No, no, not yet. You think we have time to…”

“Camden. We don’t have time to look at it if we did find it. Let’s turn this in and go. We can return in the morning.”

Camden knew Jerrell was right, and he nodded his head as he jotted down the reference, then closed the book.

“Okay, let’s go. We can go to the hotel to freshen up then go for dinner. I trust you have some suggestions.”

“I do.”

The Apprentice

Toveli Laiche stood at the edge of the room, a massive space, so high the trusses above were in darkness. He could hear a steamboat navigating the Danube River just outside, the river not more than fifteen meters from the building that had been built as a warehouse. It was now under the control of Dr. Steffen Geiss where he was using it as a laboratory. Toveli was hired to be an apprentice during his summer break. He had finished up his third year of studies and moved to Ingolstadt from Lausanne where he studied at Universite de Lausanne.

He had no real comprehension about Dr. Geiss’s work. All he knew from their correspondence was it involved life saving techniques and his study in human anatomy had drawn the doctor’s attention. Looking at the equipment in the laboratory, he was more confused than he had been about the doctor’s descriptions of his work. There was a large aquarium, a large rack of coiled wire with other components, and a tilting table with straps on it to secure a person to it, and to the side all manner of equipment, some recognizable and some a complete mystery.

A noise from the dark recesses in the back of the space, then a light, one lantern held up as someone came forward.

“Excuse me, Dr. Geiss?”

“Yes, and you are?”

“I’m Toveli, Toveli Laiche. Your apprentice for the summer?”

“OH yes, yes, come, come, there is much to do.”

For days Toveli stayed busy. If not by the side of Dr. Geiss setting up an experiment or watching for the results, he was cleaning, preparing some piece of equipment, or running for supplies. He had barely had time to get his own lodgings for the summer set up. But after a couple of weeks and another failed experiment, Dr. Geiss dismissed him, telling him to take three days off before disappearing into his private office with his journal.

Toveli suddenly faced the fact he didn’t know Ingolstadt or anyone other than Dr. Geiss. He roamed around the old fortress city, alone and feeling lost. He watched the people around him going about their lives. Never did the loneliness feel such a stifling thing as when he saw other young men joking around with each other. He found himself in small cafes having a light lunch or just a cup of coffee, or in some small shop browsing the merchandise, or in a bookstore, the bound volumes so tantalizing but far too expensive for his meager salary, most of which he was saving for when he got back to university. He spent the second morning at the library browsing the stacks, then after a meal at an inn, he found himself walking outside the fortress walls, through the village outside them, and into the countryside. It was a hot day, the sun shining brightly above, as he made his way along a road that ran parallel with the river. He watched boats navigate it and boys fishing from its banks. To his right, he saw the land became open with far fewer dwellings, and those that were there had outbuildings and barns behind them. The open land was farmed, and between the farms, woodland.

A cart was heading his way, and like with all others he passed, people on horseback or on wagons, he looked at the man guiding it toward the city. This time he found himself staring longer than usual, for sitting on the bench controlling the reins of the horse, was a young man about his own age. Dark brown hair visible around the hat and a face smooth with rosy cheeks. When they drew near, he saw the dark eyes, and how they stared back then looked away as the cheeks turned redder.

It made Toveli smile. It was some confirmation he wasn’t alone in the world. He had friends, close friends he could tell almost anything, but there was one thing he had told no one. The one thing he knew made him different. A devilish desire for another man. He struggled at university with his attractions, so afraid his friends would figure it out it had made him feel breathless at times. He knew he wasn’t the only one, for there was Elias down the hall, but he also knew how Elias was treated.

After he and the young man on the cart passed, he looked back and saw him do the same. If only he could talk to him, learn his name, and feel him out on his desires.

Toveli continued walking until the sun was starting to get in his face, letting him know the afternoon was half over. He turned and headed back to the city wondering what he would do for dinner. Maybe the café with its red awnings and small round tables lining the walk in front, or the place in the inn with its hearty soups, or he might wander the city and find a new place.

He strolled past the now familiar scenes, seeing farmers a bit further across their fields, horses running instead of grazing, livestock in a different place in the pasture, and empty places on the riverbank where boys were long gone from their fishing spot. Ahead was the section of road with trees and fields on each side, blocking any view of the city that lay ahead.

He came to a field and saw the cart from earlier, parked near a tree with horse tied off. In the small field two men were working along a row. One was older, larger in frame, and the other was the young man, the two of them working side by side. The older man stood straight, stretching his back, then looked at the young man.

“Mayer, let’s stop. I need you go into the city for some provisions,” the man said to the other.

“Yes, father,” the young man replied, looking at his father.

“Get the cart and I’ll meet you back at the house.”

Toveli had slowed, wondering if he would arrive at the cart at the same time as Mayer, the son of the farmer. He saw him look toward the cart, then look his way. Mayer froze, watching him walk slowly along the road, then he began to walk across the field, stepping over the rows as he cut straight across.

Toveli neared the place where the cart was parked as Mayer untied the horse and got the horse and cart turned around.

“Good afternoon,” Toveli called out as he came up him.

“Good afternoon. You just out for a walk?”

“Yes. I was given a few days off, so I’m out exploring.”

“You’re not German.” It was a statement of fact.

“No, I’m Swiss. I’m working as an apprentice for the summer.”

“An apprentice?”

“Yes, for a Dr. Geiss. Do you know him?”

“No.”

Toveli moved up closer to Mayer.

“I’m Toveli. Toveli Laiche.”

“Mayer Neuer.”

“Nice to meet you, Mayer. I overheard your father is sending you into the city.”

“Yes, for some supplies.”

“I don’t know anyone in the city, other than the doctor. Would you like to have dinner with me before returning?”

Toveli saw it, a change in expression. A faint smile. A brightness to the eyes even in the shadow of the hat.

“I would like that, but money is tight and…”

“Oh, I invited you, so it is my responsibility to pay. I would love to have someone to talk to during dinner.”

Mayer smiled revealing his straight white teeth. “I’d like that too. Would you like to ride back into the city with me?”

“That would be nice.”

Toveli rode with Mayer back to the city. They would glance at one another, making eye contact that seemed to embarrass Mayer, making Toveli feel drawn to him even more. Toveli talked of his life, growing up in Geneva, then his moving to Lausanne to attend university. He saw Mayer change expression when he mentioned it, and realized life must be difficult for him, a young man on a small farm where he would probably live his entire life. He became more curious about him and prodded him to talk of his own life. Hesitant at first, claiming there was nothing to tell, Mayer eventually told of growing up on the farm, of losing his mother when he was twelve to the fever, and how he had dropped out of school to work the farm. Toveli heard the sadness in Mayer’s voice. He sensed the loneliness that existed. It was different from his own, and he wondered if there was a way he could alleviate it, even if in a small way.

“Why don’t we go to my place, tie up the horse, and go eat. You can get the things you need afterward.”

“Okay.”

Toveli looked at Mayer, drawn to him more than any man before. They had dinner at a restaurant Mayer suggested, then he had accompanied him to the store, helping to load the cart, and now they stood by it, Mayer ready to climb on and head back. They were in an alley that was in deep shadow, the sun low in the western sky. It gave them a sense of privacy. Toveli wanted Mayer to stay with him for the night, almost asked him to do it as he looked at the young farmer’s son that was stealing his heart. He felt like he understood him, felt the same longings, fears, and dare he hope, the same desires.

“I should get going. It’ll be dark by the time I get home,” Mayer uttered in a low voice.

“I wish…”

“I enjoyed spending time with you, and thanks for dinner. It was good.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I should go,” Mayer repeated, hesitating again.

“I’m off tomorrow. Can you get away for the day?” Toveli blurted out, knowing he had to say something, anything.

“I have chores in the morning, but I could be here for a late lunch.”

“Really?” Toveli exclaimed. He knew he was smiling in a ridiculous manner, but he didn’t care.

“Yes.”

“I’d like that.”

Mayer grabbed the edge of the bench and started to pull himself up but stopped. He spun around and leaned toward Toveli, kissing him on the cheek. Pulled back, he looked to see Toveli’s reaction.

Toveli smiled and the worried look faded into a smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” whispered Mayer, sounding like he was struggling to keep his voice down.

“I can’t wait,” Toveli replied as he watched Mayer climb onto the bench. He watched him guide the horse out to the main road and turn, heading back to his home.

Connections

Camden was in the shower, the water hot against his skin. He scrubbed his chest, stomach and around his crotch as his mind kept going to the person waiting in his room. He had left Jerrell watching television. He had not bathed since the night before and being in the archives most of the day had made him feel grimy. He faced the shower and let the water hit his face and cascade down his body.

He didn’t hear the door swing open or the soft pad of bare feet on the floor as Jerrell stepped into the bathroom and watched him. But he heard the glass shower door slide open and opened his eyes to see Jerrell stepping into the shower.

“Is this, okay?” Jerrell asked.

Camden looked at the lean body, the masculine nature of it down to the flaccid cock hanging over its sac. He looked down the body then back up until he was looking into the vivid blue eyes.

“Yes.”

Everything Camden had been thinking, all the scenarios considered, none were of Jerrell climbing into the shower with him. But it worked. He felt aroused, felt his cock flex, then he felt it in Jerrell’s hand as lips touched his own. Suddenly against the tile wall, a leg between his own, he felt the warm body against him. The rub of chests, the feel of a hand on his cock, and lips moving from his own along his jaw to his right ear.

“I knew you were willing,” Jerrell whispered, then tongued the curvature of the ear and tugged on the earlobe.

Camden moaned with the manipulation, then he pushed his hardening cock through the fist.

“Fuck,” Camden uttered as the hand let go. Two hands held him by the ass and pulled them together. His cock flexed with being pinned between them, and he felt another cock, just as hard, push against his stomach.

“Do me,” Camden uttered as he pushed back turning to face the wall Hands bracing himself, he pushed his ass back until it was against Jerrell. There was a push back. The cock slid between his ass cheeks and upward and he held his head down and moaned. A hand held him by the back of the neck and the other guided the cock to his opening. A rub up and down, then a push against it. He pushed back and shuddered as the cock breached his tight opening and sank into his hole.

“Fuck,” Jerrell uttered, pulling outward, then pushing back in.

Camden leaned forward, resting his head on the wall and rocked with every push inward. Over and over, cock sank into his depths giving him the sense of fullness only a man could give him. The connection of a man’s cock inside another. He moaned while pushing back taking Jerrell all the way, his ass pressing against abdomen.

“Goddamn…fuck,” Jerrell cried out as he increased his pace.

Jerrell increased his pace, thrusting with urgency. He felt the burn of muscle and the increase in arousal. Every penetrating push inward brought him that much closer. He held Camden by the waist, fingers digging into the firm flesh, and fucked to come. He saw Camden right arm moving in the familiar rhythm of a man wanting to get off.

“Yeah, come for me,” Jerrell uttered.

“OH, I’m close,” Camden uttered.

Jerrell fucked with a physicality that had their bodies smacking against each other noisily in the small shower. The room grew hotter, and they gasped for breath as Jerrell shoved cock into Camden’s depths in a hard fast rhythm. Suddenly, Camden was shuddering and jerking. He was coming, painting the tile wall with cum as Jerrell kept up their fuck. Jerrell felt close to release, and he jammed his cock into Camden and kept hammering his hips against the firm round ass as he pumped out his load. Then he slowed, easing outward, then slowly pushing back in, shivering with the feel of his sensitive cock moving slickly through Camden’s opening.

Connections – Part II

Toveli faced Mayer, the two of them knowing why they were in his lodging. There had been a quick lunch a block away, a platter with cheeses, breads, and a bit of meat. They had washed it down with a dark beer, both thinking the alcohol would give them more courage. Now they faced each other, each wondering who would go first.

Toveli knew Mayer had made the first move with the quick kiss at their departing the night before. It was his turn, and he began to unbutton his shirt, working each one free while Mayer watched. He pulled it off wondering how Mayer viewed him with his lean body. He had never worked hard in his life and now worried he would look soft to Mayer. He tossed the shirt on the nearby chair and began to undo his pants. He was already partially erect from their kissing and groping of each other, and when he spread his pants open, his underwear pushed out obscenely. He wanted Mayer to see how he was affected by their making out, so he stood for a brief time letting Mayer see him. Then he worked the pants down, freeing each foot. He was nervous, afraid he would be too naïve about what two men did to pleasure each other, so much so, he was tempted to stop, to say it was a mistake. But he wanted it. Wanted the pleasure two men could make each other feel. He wanted to feel it. And he wanted it with Mayer. Without stopping to think, he worked his underwear down his legs and stepped out of them. Naked he stood before Mayer. His cock flexed with his arousal, and he stood with fist balled up.

“Do I look alright?”

“Yes. Oh, yes,” Mayer replied. Then he began to remove his own clothes, tugging his shirt over his head revealing a muscular upper body. Toveli stared at him, eyes following the curvature of the pecs, then down the narrow waist to the navel, then down to the pants that rode lower than normal. It was a tease, the way the torso led his eye downward.

Mayer removed his pants and underwear and stood naked before Toveli. He was still in his teen years but had the body of someone older. More mature, more muscular, but a man stuck in the mindset of a teen looking for this first time.

“Do I look alright?”

“You’re kidding; you’re gorgeous,” Toveli uttered in a low voice, not believing Mayer could even ask such a thing.

Toveli moved to Mayer and kissed him as his hands felt the firm muscular body. The bulging biceps, the solid shoulders and the form of each pec, and unable to control himself, he pushed his growing cock against him, feeling Mayer’s cock respond to his ministrations. He hugged him and guided him to follow as he backed to his bed. When his legs bumped against it, he eased back on it bringing Mayer down on top. As they kissed and touched and manipulated each other, he guided Mayer around on the bed.

He felt his desires become inflamed and without thought, he raised his knees spreading his legs. He opened himself to Mayer, getting him to work cock along his ass. Up and down, cock raked along it until it rubbed over him wetly.

“Fuck me…fuck me,” Toveli whispered breathlessly.

Mayer seemed hesitant, as if he wondered if he could really do it. Toveli was too aroused for such hesitancy, and he reached between them, took the hard wet cock pressed against his ass and guided it to his opening. There was a push against his tightness, then another that breach his tightness and penetrated him. He moaned and shook as he felt cock sink into his depths.

“Yes…yes…do me, fuck me, Mayer. Fuck me,” Toveli cried out as he moved beneath him, undulating, and pushing against him trying to get cock deeper into his hole.

At first, Mayer moved in an irregular rhythm, still finding his confidence. But Toveli kept urging him on, pleading with him to fuck harder. Before long he was thrusting into Toveli’s depths, all the way, over and over. The bed began to squeak and rock with his movements. He grunted with his exertion, worked his hips with an urgency making Toveli cry out. The room struggled to contain them. The sound of their sex echoed in it. Then the bed began to bang into the wall.

“Fuck,” Mayer cried out. He lifted his head and thrust into Toveli’s depths and came.

When Mayer collapsed on Toveli, gasping for breath, it wasn’t enough for Toveli. Not nearly enough, and he bear hugged the muscular body and rolled Mayer to his back. He sat on top; cock still buried in his ass. He moved upward, feeling the wet slimy cock move in his hole, until it nearly slipped free, then eased down, over and over, keeping Mayer hard. Soon he was riding him, up and down, roughly, the bed squeaking beneath them. It was a fuck, hard, physical. He took his own cock in hand as Mayer lay beneath him staring in awe, with mouth open gasping for breath.

“Toveli…” Mayer uttered as he began to push upward. He wanted to get deeper, to feel his cock buried inside of him. Despite coming once, he was close again. His cock felt everything. The tight opening moving up and down it and the heat of the hole that enveloped it.

Toveli stroked his cock, faster and faster as his arousal grew. He threw his head back, sat down all the way on Mayer and cried out as he sprayed cum over him. He jerked with each ejaculation and kept stroking his cock until cum only dribbled out, making his hand slick.

Mayer was shocked at the amount of cum that rained down on him. The thick wads that hit his face, neck and roped down his chest. He inhaled deeply and captured the scent of it, then shoved upward and filled Toveli with his second load.

A Madness

Dr. Geiss paced his office, his journal laying open and notes scattered around it. Next to them lay Dr. Frankenstein’s journal. He was frustrated to the point he wanted to scream. Something was off. Each experiment that rejuvenated cellular structure failed. Dr. Frankenstein’s journal was missing a step, or some process.  He went to his desk and opened Dr. Frankenstein’s journal once again. How many times had he read it already, he did not know, but he read it again, looking for some clue he had missed.

As he read, he heard Toveli in the laboratory. As instructed, he was cleaning the equipment and setting up a small experiment on cellular response to magnesium under certain controlled conditions. Steffen made sure Toveli had no idea of the main experiment he was conducting. He knew the reaction to Dr. Frankenstein’s experiments. The uproar of the pious, so concerned with some moral code he found distasteful. If man was going to conquer the great illness of death, then men like him had to move past such moral codes and boldly explore the realms of life.

He went back to the failed experiments by Dr. Frankenstein. There had been sixteen attempts to rejuvenate life into a body before he finally succeeded. He read through them, looking for a clue to why his own experiments failed. He had tried twice, giving Toveli a few days off each time to prevent him from knowing about it. He was no fool and knew Toveli was glad to have the time.  He knew about Toveli fucking that farm boy. He could care less about the boy’s deviant behavior and smiled at the idea Toveli was breaking society’s moral code in his own way.

After reading through the failed experiments, he went back to some notations at the back. They were summaries of the experiment that succeeded, and how he had created a monster. Steffen frowned at such weakness, to be ashamed of such great success. He would feel no such shame. He pulled back and stared at the page expecting the answer to jump out at him. Then he saw the notation to a chemical element. It was small, written in the margins, something he had dismissed when he saw it before, but now he saw it anew. He realized what it referred and knew it was the answer he sought. He pushed back from his desk and laughed. Laughed long and hard, something he had not done in a long time. Then he went to his office door and called out to Toveli.

“Yes, sir?” Toveli replied.

“I’m going to be doing some research soon, when I can get what I need gathered together. Would you like to take some time to play tourist? Maybe take that friend of yours, that farm boy, out for dinner or maybe catch a play?”

“That would be nice, Dr. Geiss,” Toveli replied, blushing at the realization Dr. Geiss knew he was seeing Mayer.

“Well, I’m not sure when I’ll be ready to proceed, but hopefully soon. I just have to find the right…thing to proceed.”

Discovery

Camden followed Jerrell into the archives, looking for the section for maps and surveys from the 1700’s. They went down each aisle, Camden looking along the shelves to their left and Jerrell looking at them on their right. They passed literature, tax records, notices for birth, marriage, and death, and so many sections Camden began to wonder it the one they sought existed. They were at the far wall about to loop around to the next aisle when Jerrell held up his hand.

“Wait.”

“What is it?” asked Camden.

Jerrell pointed at the shelves along the side wall and realized they were deeper, with rolls of documents, large bound volumes and labeled on the shelves right in front of them:  1700-1799 Maps/Surveys.

“OH, this is it!” exclaimed Camden as Jerrell moved closer and began scanning the shelves from the top.

“Start at the bottom shelf and work up,” said Jerrell.

Camden scanned the bound volumes, some labeled, some not, but by their shape and size he knew they were not what they seek. Three shelves up were bound volumes that were the right size, and he checked each one not labeled on the spine. He went down one stack after the next. He was on a fourth stack of volumes when he found one nicely bound in leather. The cover was stained and marred from heavy use. He opened it and saw the handwriting inside. After reading the first sentence he knew it was the journal they sought.

“Jerrell,” Camden whispered as he scanned the page, then thumbed through the journal seeing sketches and formulas.

“Yeah, what is it?” Jerrell replied as he moved down another shelf.

“I found it.”

Camden sat on his bed, thumbing through their notes, and looking at the photographs of different pages they had developed on the way back to his hotel. He still felt the excitement of the discovery and what it would mean to the literary world, and maybe even the scientific. He was too excited to consider the ramifications of what the journal was proposing, and by the last pages, evidently was accomplished by Dr. Victor Frankenstein. 

He pulled out his notes from the journal of Dr. Steffen Geiss and sat up, looking at all that lay before him. He thought about the time he had remaining in Ingolstadt and if it would be enough for him to read through the two journals and do further research on both doctors. He considered it odd that Dr. Frankenstein seemed to be erased from history and he wondered if it had been deliberate.

The toilet flushed, water ran then shut off and Jerrell came out of the bathroom. He moved on the bed next to Camden.

“This is…crazy,” Jerrell uttered as he flipped through the photographs of sketches.

“Tell me about it,” replied Camden. “There is so much…where do I begin?”

“At the beginning. We’ll see what we can find out about the two doctors, how Mary Shelley discovered Dr. Frankenstein and why there isn’t much about him in the historical record.”

“I was thinking about that too. What if he did it?”

“Brought someone back alive?”

“Yes, but let’s say there was some big problems. If Mary Shelley stayed true to the basic events, then the doctor came to realize he created a monster, therefore it had to be horrific for someone so lacking in a moral center. If that was the case, then…”

“The city and scientific community would want to bury it. Forget it ever happened. Makes sense.”

“What time is it?”

“A little after nine.”

“Seriously? Shit, where did the day go.”

“I say we go get something to eat, then you can get some rest.”

“I’m not going to be able to sleep.”

“Maybe I can help with that,” Jerrell replied, smiling mischievously.

The room was dark, the only light coming the bathroom, the door cracked open, and lights of the city shining in through the open window. Camden lay on his back with Jerrell on top. Their clothes were scattered around the bed, the two of them naked. Jerrell undulated on top, rubbed against Camden and pumped his cock against Camden’s cock. They were hard, showing their aroused state.

It was after midnight, the city quiet outside the room, but inside it, there were the moans and grunts of two men arousing each other. Of hands moving over bodies, tugging on hard cocks and pushing fingers between ass cheeks probing for the tight opening. Camden shuddered as fingers bore into hole, twisting and turning, loosening him up.

Jerrell sat up and held him as he moved up and over Jerrell’s cock. He held it beneath him and eased down on it, not stopping until it was buried in his hole.

“Fuck,” Camden uttered as he began to move up and down.

He rode Jerrell until he ached for release. His own cock rubbed wetly against Jerrell’s chest with his movement. His pace was steady, up, then down, over and over, until he shivered with release. Cum spurt from his cock, roping up Jerrell’s chest and he pushed his cock through it as he kept moving up and down. As the last of his cum dribbled out of his cock, Jerrell rolled him to his back, pinned his legs against his chest and bore into his depths and fucked with long solid strokes. He felt it, the cock tugging outward, then pushing back in. It felt longer, thicker, the way it bore into him. With the bed rocking with the rhythm of their fuck, he clung the bed and took every thrust.

“I’m going to…” Jerrell uttered, not able to finish as he shoved inward, then hammered his hips against Camden’s upturned ass, while filling it with cum.

Tragedy

Mayer led the horses into the barn and fed them. He checked on the livestock, making sure they had water, then headed to the house. As he crossed the yard he could see a candle burning though a window. His father had gone inside earlier, saying he wasn’t feeling well. It was unusual for his father to ever be ill, and to stop early was surprising. Mayer approached the house, thinking about the way his father had looked. Pale and sweating, he had visibly shown some sickness. Mayer wondered if he had a cold, or worse the flu.

Mayer pushed the door open and stepped inside and froze for a moment, trying to process what he was seeing. Lying on the floor was his unconscious father.

“Father!” Mayer screamed as he rushed to him. He shook him while calling out his name over and over.

Baldwin Neuer lay unconscious, not moving despite Mayer’s pleas. He was still breathing, but it was shallow and labored. Mayer wondered what to do, his mind reeling with fear and confusion. He needed a doctor, but all the village had was the healing woman, and he didn’t trust her, knowing much of what she did was useless. His father needed a real doctor. He rocked back and forth, knowing time was of the essence.

“A doctor…a doctor…Dr. Geiss, he’s a doctor,” Mayer exclaimed, and he jumped to his feet. He ran out the door and to the barn, where he moved quickly. Soon the horse was hooked to the wagon. It would have been faster on horseback, but his father was in no condition to ride a horse. They would have to do the slower wagon.

The city finally came into view, and he snapped the reins again, making the horse go faster. It seemed to take forever to finally arrive at the old fortress walls of the city. He tugged on the reins to slow the horse and made his way through the city to Dr. Geiss’s laboratory.

“Toveli! Toveli! Please! I need you!”

Mayer spun around and moved to the back of the wagon where his father lay unconscious. Suddenly there was movement next to him and he looked up to see Toveli and behind him, the doctor coming out too.

“Toveli, its father. Can you help him?”

“Toveli, step aside,” Dr. Geiss uttered, pushing him over as he came to the side of wagon. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. When I came back inside, he was on the floor unconscious. He won’t wake up. Can you help him?”

“Let’s get him inside,” Dr. Geiss replied. “Help him,” he added facing Toveli.

Baldwin Neuer lay on the table in the middle of the laboratory. His breathing was worse. At times he seemed to stop altogether, then choke or cough and resume gasping for breath. Dr. Geiss knew he was dying, that there was nothing he could do, but he couldn’t tell that to Mayer. He saw the pure emotion of fear and knew nothing he said would matter.

“There is nothing I can do except wait and see if he pulls through,” said Dr. Geiss. When he captured Toveli’s eyes he shook his head. “I’ll be in my office. Call me if he changes.”

Outside the city grew quiet as the sky turned dark. The laboratory seemed to fall silent as well. None of the equipment made its usual noises and only the ticking of the clock on the mantel broke the silence. Time passed slowly as Mayer watched his father struggle to breathe. Toveli stayed close, at times trying to get Mayer to sit down, but he refused, staying on his feet by the table holding his father’s hand.

The clock struck ten, then silence fell over the room. Mayer cried out then buried his face into his father’s chest. Baldwin Neuer had stopped breathing.

Dr. Geiss paced his room, overjoyed with his luck. A body waited for him in his laboratory. It had come to him, instead of having to bribe someone at the hospital for some homeless man or woman. He felt for the boy, knowing it was hard to lose a loved one, but if he was successful, he would give the boy his father back. He heard the cries from the laboratory and knew the time had come. He eased out into the laboratory and crossed the room until standing next to Mayer.

“I’m sorry, but he was too weak and probably suffered too much damage. Something with the heart, I’m sure. But I can help you with your father’s arrangements so you’re not having to do it alone. A boy shouldn’t have to deal with such loss alone.”

Mayer rose, keeping his teary eyes on his father.

“He wanted…” Mayer laughed suddenly, a weak sad laugh, “…he wanted a viking’s funeral. Something he called a noble end to one’s life.”

“What?” Dr. Geiss asked, not understanding.

“He wanted to be burned to ash upon his death.”

“No…I mean…I see,” stammered Dr. Geiss.

“I don’t know what’ll it take, but can you help me?”

“Yes, we will help you. Right, Dr. Geiss?” replied Toveli.

Dr. Geiss suppressed a smile as he formulated a plan.

“Of course, I will be honored to help with your father’s arrangements.”

Toveli sat up where he had fallen asleep leaning against the wall. Next to him on the cot Dr. Geiss sometimes used when he worked all night, lay Mayer looking at him with red, swollen eyes.

“Hey, are you okay?” asked Toveli.

Mayer nodded his head.

“Did you sleep any?”

Mayer shook his head.

“I’m sorry. I’ll go check on Dr. Geiss.”

Mayer nodded and watched Toveli step out of the office into the laboratory. The doctor had agreed to prepare the body for the ceremonial burning, saying it would be ready by morning. It was happening too fast, but he knew there was no reason for delay. There was no family to summon, if being just him and his father, now just him. And the doctor was so gracious to assist with the preparation of the body, he couldn’t say no or tell him to slow down, wait until tomorrow or the next day. There was no reason to delay the inevitable.

He eased up and got to his feet feeling weak and unbalanced. His stomach growled and he realized he had not eaten anything since breakfast the day before. Gaining his balance, he went out to the laboratory where he saw Toveli and Dr. Geiss standing by the table in the middle of it. A body lay on it, wrapped from head to foot in white cloth. ‘Father’ he thought as he moved to stand next to Toveli.

“Your father is ready. Toveli, go get the wagon ready,” said Dr. Geiss.

“Yes sir,” Toveli replied and stepped back from the table, then left, leaving Mayer and Dr. Geiss alone.

“I didn’t know your father, or you for that matter, but I assume he was a good man.”

“He was…he…”

“I told Toveli to take a few days off. He will go with you for the ceremony. I told him how to build a scaffold and how much wood should be used beneath it. He will also summon anyone who knew your father so they can be there with you.”

Mayer stared at the body all wrapped up and couldn’t make it his father. It seemed wrong in some way, but he knew he was bleary eyed and so tired he could barely stand.

“Thank you…for everything.”

“Let me know if there is something else, I can do, otherwise I’ll leave you alone with your father’s body. Toveli should be back soon.”

The sun was setting to end another day, for Mayer the longest of his young life. Toveli had went around the village and nearby farms letting those that knew his father know of his passing, and all came to pay their respects. Some commented on the unusual ceremony, something they had never seen before, but none gave any objection. Some considered it for themselves.

In the edge of the field, a wood scaffold a man’s head high had been constructed and on top the wrapped body. The white fabric seemed to glow in the dimming light, and it drew the eyes of all that stood waiting for the lighting of the wood below. It was stacked up to the platform, arranged to let air to get to it allowing it to burn hot. Mayer held the torch, the flame fluttering in the gentle breeze. He just had to step forward and set the torch to the base of the wood pile. The fuel would insure it lit. But he stood still, unable to do it.

“Mayer?” whispered Toveli.

“I can’t do it,” Mayer uttered in a pained tone. “I can’t do what my father wished,” he uttered facing Toveli. “Will you do it for me?”

Toveli saw the pained expression and couldn’t begin to know how Mayer felt. He reached out for the torch, knowing it was important to Mayer to follow his father’s wishes. “I’ll do it.”

Toveli stepped forward with the torch and eased it into the base of the wood pile in a gap he had made for it. The fuel caught and soon flames raced up the wood pile, then spread out along its base. He stepped back until standing next to Mayer.

“It’s done,” Mayer whispered as flames rose higher. They lapped at the white fabric, singed it, then set it ablaze. As the wood burned hot and higher, the flames burned the fabric, then concealed the burning body as they rose into the night sky. Someone in the crowd began to sing, some old song Mayer nor Toveli knew, but others picked it up and slowly many voices sang softly as flames devoured the man they knew as Baldwin, father of Mayer.

Mayer lay on his bed, softly crying, with Toveli by his side. He clung to him, held tight as if afraid Toveli would disappear. He buried his face into Toveli’s chest and cried harder than he had at the ceremony. Eventually he settled, cease crying, and fell silent.

Toveli lay still for a long time, then leaned back so he could check on him. Mayer was finally asleep. He eased up and extinguished the flame in the lantern and laid back next to Mayer. He was exhausted and emotionally drained, and soon, holding Mayer against his body, drifted off to sleep.

There was mumbling then movement waking Toveli. He remembered he was in bed with Mayer, holding him against his body. It was still night, the room dark. In the silence he heard Mayer mumbling, the tone desperate.

“I’m alone...alone…hold me.”

“Mayer? You okay?”

“Toveli, hold me,” Mayer whispered.

Toveli felt lips against his neck, then moving up to his cheek, the pressing against his lips with passion and desperation. He wanted to comfort him, to respond in a manner that made him know he was loved by someone. There was the word, one he had not considered seriously until now, but he knew it was true. He did love Mayer. Loved him in a way that took his breath away.

Mayer pulled away and Toveli sensed his movements with an occasional bump of an arm or a leg. Mayer was stripping off his clothes and he wondered if he should do the same. Did Mayer want the intimacy of sex?

“Toveli,” Mayer whispered, and Toveli felt hands moving over his body, tugging at his clothes. Soon, he too was naked. He could see nothing in the absolute darkness, but all other senses seemed to have come alive. He heard the heavy breathing and felt every touch. He felt a hand on his upper chest, move up his long neck then hold his chin as lips pressed against his own. He reached out and felt the heat of Mayer’s body. He rubbed it, used his fingers to feel the contours, then the hard nub of one nipple as they kissed.

Mayer moved against him, then shifted away and Toveli reached out finding his hand on a broad muscular back. Sliding his hand down, he felt the slight curve down then up and over an ass cheek. He rubbed the smooth muscular skin unable to resist the temptation. He had to touch him.

A hand took his cock, and Toveli felt himself flex in its grasp. The hand tugged at his cock, and he knew what Mayer wanted. He moved with the pull, up and over Mayer. The hand guided him down and he felt his cock push down between firm ass cheeks then against what he knew to be Mayer’s opening.

“Toveli…please,” Mayer whispered in the darkness.

Toveli pushed until he felt his cock penetrate Mayer, and he held still feeling the squeeze on it. A slight push upward and he knew Mayer was ready for more, and he pushed inward, tugged outward, over and over, until in a slow fuck.

Mayer undulated beneath him, at times hands reached back and raked down his sides or fingers dug into his thighs encouraging him to fuck faster. He sank deeper and deeper until he was smacking against the firm ass and the bed protested beneath them.

“Toveli…keep going…” Mayer uttered as he pushed up to take every inch.

Toveli fucked until he felt the surge of release. He pushed inward all the way and jammed his hips against the firm ass and came. With each ejaculation, he jammed his hips against the ass harder, until finally spent. He collapsed on Mayer and felt the trapped heat of their bodies, how his skin was slick against Mayer’s. When he had his breath, he rolled off Mayer and guided him to his back. Reaching out in the dark, he felt the undulating stomach, and with a rub downward, the hard cock that filled his hand. He held it up and moved down to it. He touched his lips to the wet head, licked it tasting the odd sweetness, then he slipped lips over it and pushed down. He moved on Mayer, up and down, dragging his lips along the hardness. He kept it up until he felt the cock flex then swell larger and he held his mouth over the head and captured its release, the ejaculation of wad after wad of cum until it filled his mouth and he had to swallow.

Research

Jerrell came back to the table carrying a record of taxes from 1811 to 1820 for Ingolstadt. He eased down opposite of Camden for the table was covered with the two journals, two other books, one a journal of another local doctor and one a hospital records book, and Camden’s notebooks and tablet. The first book had a vague reference to a doctor going too far and Camden wanted to look through it more closely to see if the doctor elaborated further.  The second book made a reference to Henry Clerval and Camden knew it had to be the one from the story. The hospital had taken him in already deceased and put him in their morgue. He was seeking any piece of information that gave legitimacy to the story of Dr. Frankenstein.

“What’s that?” asked Camden barely looking up when Jerrell set the tax records book down on the table.

“If Dr. Frankenstein owned any property in the city, this might have a record of him.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Camden glanced up, smiling across the table. “You know you don’t have to do this. It is my project and…”

“But I like doing it.”

Camden smiled. “It is fun to dig out a truth lost to time.”

“What are you going to do?”

“What do you mean?”

“When you finish this research?”

“Oh. I’ll do my paper for college, and then I’m thinking of writing a book.”

“The Real Frankenstein?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you get everything done before you have to go back at the end of next week?”

“No, I don’t think so. I’ll have to fly back and go through both journals again. Every time I read them, I notice some new nuance,” Camden replied seeing Jerrell smile slightly. “Are you hoping I’ll come back?”

Jerrell looked across the table and smiled. “Yes.”

Camden chuckled and leaned forward. “I’d like to see you again too.”

“When we leave let’s go to dinner before you get into reviewing the day’s notes.”

“Okay. Got a suggestion?”

“Yes. You up for a traditional German restaurant?”

“It isn’t some tourist kind of thing, is it?”

“OH no, nothing like that. This is a small place, what you’d call a hole in the wall, and only local residents eat there.”

“That could be fun. The food is good?”

“Very good.”

“Then it’s a date.”

“A date…” Jerrell repeated.

Discovery

Toveli eased out of bed where Mayer had fallen asleep. The sun shined brightly through the gaps in the shutters, and he knew it was late morning or nearly noon. He dressed and walked outside seeing the cold dark ashes from the funeral pyre from the night before. Farmers were in their fields, one guiding an ox across it pulling some implement. Across the road a woman was hanging bed linens out to air out. Circling her feet was a small dog. The village was going about its routines despite what had happened to Mayer. It seemed cruel but he knew there was no other way. Death could take someone at any time and life couldn’t stop for them or nothing would get done.

He walked past the pasture looking at the livestock roam around the lot, then he headed back inside.

Mayer was sitting up staring across the room. He was still naked with the blanket loose around his waist. It was an image both heartbreaking and beautiful. The glow of the pale skin and the tousled hair, he looked like an angel.

“Hey, you okay?” whispered Toveli, almost afraid to break the silence of the room.

“Yeah. I just can’t…he’s gone. He’s really gone.”

“I’m sorry, Mayer.”

Mayer looked up, finally facing him with his red swollen eyes.

“Will you stay with me? Just tonight? I know you have to go back to work but…”

“I can stay for the next few nights. If you want.”

“Yes!” Mayer exclaimed and for a moment Toveli saw it. The hope for something more between them.

“I need to go get some clothes and a few things. I’ll head out after we eat something and try to be back before it is too late.”

“Take the horse.”

“The horse?”

“Yes. Don’t be silly. It’ll take too long on foot. Take the horse and you’ll be back before it gets dark.”

“Okay. What will you do while I’m gone?”

“I’ll be here,” Mayer replied and Toveli knew he meant in the bed.

Toveli arrived in the city to find it just another normal day. People on foot, men on horseback, and horse drawn carriages and carts all moved along the crowded streets. Merchants stood along the side of some streets at carts piled with produce, chickens in cages, handmade items, and potions and elixirs that promised to cure all. He rode past all of them not noticing most. He was lost in thought about Mayer. He had considered what would happen at the end of the summer and dared to think of scenarios where Mayer came with him.

Horse tied off, he ran up the steps to his small lodging and entered to find it as he left it. He raced around the room gathering up garments and some of his personal items. He stuffed everything in a satchel and made another sweep of the room to see if he missed something he would want in the next few days. He walked to the small desk by the lone window and picked up his journal, hesitant to take it, not sure he was ready to write in it, but he reconsidered and stuff it into the satchel too.

Door locked, he raced down the steps and pulled the horse out of the narrow lane and back to the main street. He climbed back into the saddle and started to head for the road that would lead west back to the Neuer farm, but he swung the horse around and headed to Dr. Geiss’ laboratory. He would check in and see it everything was still good with him taking a few days off.

Toveli tied the horse to a pole near the warehouse entry and headed inside. It was quiet, only the windmill powered equipment making any sound. He moved through the front room and stepped into the main room. He froze, unable to move another step. He stared at the tank in the middle of the room. It was filled and floating within it was the body of Baldwin Neuer. Tubes were in the nose and mouth and on each side of the neck metal rods stuck out with cables hooked to them. But the thing that captured his eye the most was the massive scare down the chest where the body had been opened up and was now stitched up.

Toveli stared at the body trying to work out what was going on. Suddenly he knew. All the past experiments that seemed loosely related suddenly became clear. He gasped for breath trying to make sense of it, Dr. Geiss trying to bring life back to a body. He staggered forward wondering how Dr. Geiss could try such a thing. He knew there was no way Baldwin Neuer would come back even if that body were revived. It was tampering with things man was not meant to tamper. Could such an experiment really work? Could the doctor do it.

He moved up to the tank and stared at the body within. He remembered the rumors about Dr. Frankenstein, what he had supposedly done years before. Dr. Geiss had his journal, he had seen it with the tight script and illustrations of different organs and equipment that had made no sense, but then he looked up at the equipment before him and knew its purpose was just as unknown to him. The thick cables caught his eye, passing through a large metal box, then up a steel column, isolated from it by what appeared to be glass bottles. The cables went all the way to the roof and through it.

The roof.

He had been up there one time to help Dr. Geiss set up a ventilation hood and he remembered the metal poles rising high in the air. They had been isolated like the cable. A conversation from his first week came to him when Dr. Geiss discussed the electrical energy of the body and how such a charge might be a way to resuscitate someone. Later the doctor had talked of lightning and how it was electrical charged.

He saw it now, the use of lightning to send a charge through the equipment to the body to stimulate a return of life.

A sound, nothing really discernable, but Toveli knew it was Dr. Geiss in his office. He rushed to a stack of crates and hid. Peering around the crate near the floor he saw Dr. Geiss’ feet as he approached the tank, then after a brief pause, moved to the metal box the cables passed through, then back to the worktable. Holding his breath, afraid to make any sound, Toveli watched the feet, waiting on them to go back to the office and give him a chance to leave.

Dr. Geiss had given him the time off not to comfort Mayer, but to have him out of the way while he experimented on Baldwin Neuer’s body. As soon as the coast was clear, he would slip out and race back to Mayer to tell him of his gruesome discovery. Mayer needed to know.

It seemed to take a very long time, but Toveli knew it had only been a few minutes at most, and Dr. Geiss left the laboratory to go back into his office. As soon as he was out of sight, Toveli eased up and out the door. He rushed through the entry and quickly had the horse released. In the saddle, he gave it a mild kick and headed out of the city and back to the farm.

The Date

Jerrell moved over Camden, pushed cock into his depths as he kissed him. His lips against Camden’s, then along the jaw where he felt the stubble of a beard coming in, the smooth neck, and the earlobe he sucked into his mouth and tugged on. He moved with a steady rhythm, pushing and tugging his cock into the depths of Camden’s hole.

Camden urged him on, fingers digging into firm flesh and legs pushing up against the chest. He moaned as cock sank into this depths, and uttered profanities as it tugged outward.

“Fuck…fuck me…harder,” Camden uttered as he felt the heat of Jerrell’s body against the back of his legs.

There had been Jerrell’s early arrival catching Camden just getting out of the shower. Beads of water over his skin and a towel loose around the narrow waist. The towel lay on the floor and the sheet on the bed absorbed the water when Jerrell playfully pushed Camden onto it. At first Jerrell didn’t take the time to undress, jumping on top of Camden, grinding his crotch against the growing erection, and feeling the lean body beneath him. He had pinned him down as he kissed him, then he slid down until between the spread legs, where he sucked him. The cock grew in his mouth until he struggled to take it. He kept sucking until Camden filled his mouth with cum. Then he rose on knees and stripped off his clothes. He revealed his own erection and soon had it inside Camden.

He fucked, faster and faster, making the bed protest beneath them.

“Don’t stop,” pleaded Camden.

Jerrell hammered Camden’s inside until his muscles burned with his exertions. His skin glistened in the dim light, and sweat trickling down his face and chest. When he felt near release, he rolled to his back with Camden on top, still seated on his cock.

Jerrell watched Camden move up and down. He watched his cock come into view, then disappear. He watched the long lean body strain with its exertions and when he dug his fingers into the thighs, he felt the flex of muscle as Camden moved up then back down. Camden leaned back until he held Jerrell by each ankle. It stretched his torso back, stomach flat and hard, the muscles tight beneath the skin. Jerrell ran a hand down the stomach feeling the firmness of it. He raked his fingers through pubic hair then wrapped them around the hard cock angled out toward him. His hand became wet with precum, and he noisily stroked Camden who rode his cock.

Cum hit Jerrell in the face, thick wads roped up his chest. Camden came first, and he kept stroking the flexing cock making Camden cry out and beg him to stop. He sat up and hugged him. Camden kept moving, dragging wet cock up and down his stomach and chest.  It was too much, and he tighten his hug and pulled him down on his cock and came.

In the silence of the room, the two of them laying still, breathing finally back to normal, Camden reached over and rubbed Jerrell’s chest.

“You ready for that date?”

Jerrell laughed, then propped his head up and looked down on Camden.

“I think we got the whole thing backwards, but yes, I’m ready to eat now.”

An End

Toveli sat behind Mayer holding on for dear life. The horse raced down the road, one Toveli could barely see in the dim moonlight. It was after dark, and they were racing back to the city. He had told Mayer then tried to calm him down. There had been anguished cries, curses on the wrongs committed, then the determination to go back and get his father’s body.

Someone jumped off the road as they raced by, the horse seeming to have inexhaustible supply of energy, as if he too were as determined to get to the city as Mayer.

“Come on, run…run!” Mayer exclaimed.

Toveli held tight to Mayer sensing the horse getting faster. He looked up at the night sky and wondered if they would make it to the city before the low clouds blocked the moon and stars. The wind picked up and it was obvious a storm was on its way. Then he considered what that would mean to Dr. Geiss. It would be time to do his experiment if the storm had lightning.

“Mayer! We have to get there before the storm!” Toveli yelled over the wind and sound of hooves pounding the ground.

“What?”

“We have to get there before the storm. The storm! Lightning. It is how he will do his experiment.”

“Fuck!” Mayer yelled as he leaned forward as if it would make them slice through the wind faster.

Toveli leaned over too, holding tight.

People were rushing along the streets, heading home or out to last minute provisions, as the wind whipped around the buildings. The horse with Mayer and Toveli wove though the people and other horses, hooves kicking up the loose dirt and debris. Down one main road then another until they were on the narrow lane along the river where the warehouse was located. The upper windows had dim reflections of lanterns inside still burning and they assumed Dr. Geiss would be in the laboratory preparing for his grisly experiment.

Mayer was off the horse quickly and he helped Toveli climb down.

“Come on, let’s get my father’s body,” Mayer exclaimed as he rushed toward the door.

“Mayer, slow down. Let’s ease inside and try to avoid a confrontation.”

Mayer came to a stop at the door and looked back as Toveli approached.

“Okay but come on.”

They entered the warehouse, passed through the front room and into the laboratory. Column mounted lanterns burned around the area of the tank and worktable, the light they had seen from outside. The laboratory was quiet except for the wind driven shaft and the equipment it operated. Mayer went to the tank and with shaking hands touched the glass as he looked at his father’s body floating inside. Toveli crossed the room and entered the office. He was in there a short time, then came back out.

“Dr. Geiss isn’t here, and neither are the journals. He has them.”

“I don’t care about the journals. I came for my father. How do we get him out of this thing?”

Toveli eased up next to Mayer.

“I don’t know how the tank works, or what is in that liquid. I know it’ll burn if exposed to flame and it is strong enough to make your eyes water if exposed to it.”

Mayer looked up and around the room, then back at Toveli.

“Are you saying we can’t get him out of this tank?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Then we give my father the ceremony he requested.”

Dr. Geiss strolled down the road heading back to the warehouse. It was late, the streets nearly empty, but he had worked tirelessly to get everything set up when he realized a storm was coming. He looked up at the pitch-black sky as the wind whipped around him. The storm would soon be over the city, and he would be ready for it.

He carried the journals in hand, thumbing through each as he had a late meal. He was lucky the inn a few roads over stayed open late, becoming more a tavern than a restaurant as the night wore on. He had been tempted to have a beer, for he felt excited and just knew by morning he would be celebrating success. He smiled at his deceit and how easy it had been to get that farm boy to accept another body. To know they burned it so there could never be any proof it wasn’t his father was just too perfect and he laughed as he turned on the road that led to the river. Men began to run past him heading in the same direction. He found it curious for there would be no boat to unload at this hour. More and more men rushed past, and he reached out to stop one to inquire what was the matter. Then he heard one yell out to another.

“One of the warehouses is aflame. Get everyone you can find!”

Dr. Geiss stumbled, for an awareness came over him that the fire could be his warehouse. He tucked the journals under his arm and began to jog, then run as fast as he could. He looked ahead trying to see which warehouse was on fire. To the right, only darkness, but to the left, where his laboratory was located, he saw a brightening over the buildings. A yellow glow reflecting off the clouds. Then flames reached high in the sky.

“NO! No, no, no,” Dr. Geiss screamed, and he ran as hard as he could. He stumbled as he turned the corner, then he came to a stop, mouth hanging open in shock. The warehouse with his laboratory was indeed the one on fire. The clerestory windows were blown out releasing the flames into the sky. “No”, he whispered as he watched the roof catch fire.

Men raced to it, but an explosion inside shock the ground and collapsed a section of the roof. The men pulled back, resigned to let it burn out. Soon flames came out every door and window, and the large hole in the roof. Then another explosion, this one more powerful, blowing the remaining roof straight up into the sky as sections of the walls flew outward. Then what was left collapsed into a heap and burned with intensity.

Dr. Geiss staggered to the side until leaning against a wall. He was in shock, numb to the destruction before him and what it meant to his work.

Across the street, in the dark shadows of an alley, Mayer and Toveli watched him, both aware Dr. Geiss held the journals.

Some Things Should Not be Known

The professor paced back and forth in front of the class. He was talking about common mistakes of writings. The dry-erase board had them listed, and the first eight were circled, and the next was the current discussion.

Camden sat in the middle of the room, halfway down and in the center, listening to the professor, wondering if he had any of the mistakes in what he had handed in last week. Everyone was eager to find out how they had done in the opinion of the professor, and the grade they would acquire. He watched the circling of the number nine, indicating the discussion was about to go to ten when the bell rang.

“Well, I’m too slow today,” the professor joked, eliciting a few laughs, then he moved behind the desk. “We’ll pick up where we left off on Friday. Mr. Harris?”

Camden looked up, wondering if the professor was really seeking him.

“Yes, Camden, you’re the only Harris in the class. I need to speak to you after class. You have time?”

“Yes, sir.”

Camden followed the professor to his office and was surprised to see another person waiting. A woman dressed in a dark blue jacket and pants with a white blouse. She appeared to be mid-fifties.

“Camden, this is Ms. Jackson. She is with…”

“That is not important,” Ms. Jackson interrupted, then turned to Camden. “Please, have a seat.”

The professor moved around his desk and sat down, leaning back as he was prone to do when about to have a conversation. Camden eased down in the chair next to Ms. Jackson feeling trapped in the small office. He sensed whatever was to be discussed, was not good.

“What is this about?” asked Camden.

“It’s your paper on Frankenstein and Geiss,” his professor replied.

“My paper?”

“Mr. Harris, your paper is very interesting, and I’m sure you’ll get a marvelous grade for it. It is…enlightening to say the least,” Ms. Jackson replied, speaking as if every word had huge ramifications.

“But?” asked Camden.

“We understand you intend to do a book and have reached out to some publishers.”

“Yes.”

“I’m afraid that can’t happen. We’ve been in contact with our counterparts in Germany and the journals have been retrieved and…”

“What do you mean?”

“What those two men accomplished, despite their primitive laboratories, is nothing short of incredible. If someone got those journals and tried the experiment today, with the equipment we have today, it could be catastrophic.”

“Catastrophic?”

“You’re a smart young man. You’ve read those journals. Do you think we need that knowledge out there?”

“I guess not.”

She smiled, not of humor, but of a confirmation.

“Good, I’m glad we agree.”

“But why can’t I at least report of it? I have so much time invested, and I’ve got a publisher ready to publish.”

“Mr. Harris, if anyone thought for a minute Frankenstein had done it, then…”

“Ms. Jackson, why not do a diverson?” asked Camden’s professor.

“Excuse me?” she replied.

“A diversion. There are rumors of what Camden has been working on and why not dissuade anyone from thinking the rumors are real?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Let him rewrite it, make it a fiction. Others have written stories of this nature. His can just be one more.”

Ms. Jackson stared at the professor then over to Camden. He waited, glancing between the two of them. He knew what his professor was suggesting. The work that would go into rewriting his non-fiction account into a fictional story seemed a daunting tasks.

“Mr. Harris, if you agree to this rewriting, making it a fiction, then we can allow it. It would let us handle the rumors and stop anyone else from considering it.”

“So, if I rewrite it, turn it into something I can call a fiction, I can publish?”

“Yes.”

“But my publisher may not agree.”

“We’ll handle the logistics of getting the publisher to keep their agreement.”

“If you can do that, then I guess it is the only way.”

“One more thing. It is something my department has been curious. How did the journals end up at the archives and together?”

“I have no idea. Maybe Dr. Geiss hid them in the archives and intended to come back for them.”

“Based on what you wrote about him, I can’t see him giving up on doing the experiment,” said Ms. Jackson.

“You’ve read my draft?”

“Of course. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a plane to catch.”

Hide and Seek

Mayer tugged on the reins, slowing the horse to a stop. Toveli, sitting behind him, eased off and to the ground.

“You sure you don’t need me?” asked Mayer.

“No. Go on to the inn and wait for me.”

“Be careful. I bet Dr. Geiss is distraught enough to be unpredictable.”

“You are probably right. Go on, I’ll be along soon.”

Toveli watched Mayer ride off, then he ducked into the shadows of the buildings. He made his way down the street heading to Dr. Geiss’ townhouse. He had only been to it once, dropping off some notes one weekend, so he questioned whether, or not he would recognize it in the dark. Turning down a residential street, each side lined with townhouses, he knew Dr. Geiss lived somewhere about halfway down on the left. He stayed on the right side in case the doctor happened to be strolling along the sidewalk. From dark shadow to dark shadow, he moved along the sidewalk acting as if he was out for a stroll when he came upon someone.

Looking across the street, he saw most had lanterns or candles burning in the front windows, but about halfway down, there was a townhouse all closed up, every window covered by a heavy curtain. It was the doctor’s townhouse, he knew it. The door appeared black, but he knew when he got close to it, he would see if was a dark green. Just as he was about to cross the street, the front door opened. Dr. Geiss stepped out, locked the door, and descended the steps to the street then headed toward the nearby business district.

Toveli watched him until out of sight, then he eased across the street and up the steps to the front door. He had been practicing picking a lock, but he was still nervous. He dropped the pick Mayer had crafted, then fumbled around with it until he began to panic. Then the lock clicked.

A single lantern burned in the foyer but through the doorway to his right nothing but darkness. Toveli knew it was the front parlor and not the room he sought. That room was on the second floor overlooking the rear yard. He picked up a candle and lit it with the lantern, then made his way up the stair. The treads creaked and squeaked with what seemed every step. He found himself holding his breath and had to calm himself with the knowledge he was alone in the apartment. At the top of the stair directly in front of him was the study. He pictured it from his previous visit with bookshelves lining the three interior walls, only broken for the doorway that was before him. He entered the room seeing his reflection in the windows that lined the back wall. The desk sat at the window with a cabinet behind it underneath the windows.

Sensing time was of the essence, Toveli rushed to the desk and saw Dr. Geiss’ journal laying open. It was near the back and a quick scan of the pages he saw the doctor had been adding notes. He closed the book and moved it to the front corner of the desk so he could grab it up on the way out. Looking around the desk it was obvious Dr. Frankenstein’s journal was not laying out. He went to the low cabinet and opened the drawers and doors looking in each section. Then he turned to the desk, opening drawer after drawer until he came to the large bottom one on the left. It was locked.

Toveli thought of Dr. Geiss’ forgetfulness of the mundane. How he had duplicates of his eyeglasses because he was always laying them somewhere then forgetting where. And he remembered how the doctor had two sets of keys in the laboratory. In the foyer, he remembered the small box on the side table, and hoped he was right.

He rushed down the stair to the table, lifting the lid of the box. A pair of eyeglasses and a set of keys lay in it. Keys in hand, he raced back up the stair. Most were house keys, but one he recognized as a key that fit the warehouse door. One he was glad was now useless. He flipped past it and found a small key, one that had to fit the desk. Holding his breath, he inserted the key, feeling it slide easily into the lock. He turned it and exhaled in relief as the lock clicked. He pulled open the drawer and saw it. Right on top, the leather journal that had belonged to Dr. Frankenstein.

With journals in hand, Toveli locked the desk drawer, carried the keys back to the foyer and put them back in the box. He smiled at the foolishness of it but wondered how the doctor would consider it. The desk locked as he left it, but the journal gone. He eased the front door open, checking the street, then slipped out.

Mayer sat in the back of the tavern located off the inn’s foyer. He sipped his beer while staring at the door. He worried Toveli would be caught, and wished he had stayed with him, if only to be a lookout on the street. The door swung open, and a man and woman rounded the opening from the foyer, laughing good naturedly at something said. He looked at the clock on the mantle again, seeing only a minute had passed since he had last looked.

The door swung open again, and he heard men’s voices, loud and boisterous and he knew it was not Toveli. The men came into the tavern, a short stout man in front and two tall lean men following. He was about to look away when he saw Toveli following them into the room. He let out a long breath, the relief flooding through him, and he stood waiting on Toveli to get to the table.

“You found them?” asked Mayer.

“Yes. We should go. I don’t want anyone to see us with them.”

“Change of plan. I got us a room here at the inn. It’s too late and dark to be going back home now.”

Toveli smiled, for he felt weary from all the stress and anxiousness he had been feeling, and still felt. He followed Mayer out of the tavern, up the stair for the rooms at the inn. They climbed pass the second and third floors, to the fourth, that was tucked under the roof. The hall was low ceilinged, pitched the same as the roof, making Mayer and him walked to one side. They passed two doors and at the end of the short hall, came to a door at its end.

“I hope the room is good, for it is the only one they had left,” said Mayer as he unlocked the door and pushed it open. “After you,” he joked, letting Toveli enter first.

The room was small, with one dormer window that looked over the street to the buildings on the other side. The bed was tucked into a niche on one end and on the other, one chair and a side table with a bowl of water for cleaning up, a pitcher for drinking water, with two glasses at its side.

“It’s perfect,” Toveli uttered as he set the journals on the small table by the bed.

Mayer came up behind him hugging him tight.

“I was really scared you would be caught.”

He hugged Toveli to his chest as kissed him on the neck. Toveli angled his head and moaned as Mayer moved up the long neck to the ear then along the side of the face.

“Can we…before we look through the journals?” Mayer whispered.

“Yes,” Toveli replied, turning in Mayer’s arms to face him.

There was a brief hesitation, then they began to frantically strip the other of their clothes. Soon Toveli was on his knees, Mayer in his mouth. He moved his lips along the growing cock until it filled it. With drool dripping from cock and chin, he leaned back on his heels and looked up.

“Fuck me.”

Mayer playfully tossed Toveli on the bed, grabbed his long legs and pulled him to the edge of it. He rubbed his cock over the spread ass, up and down until fingers were digging into his thighs.

“Stop teasing me,” Toveli uttered.

Mayer pushed against the tight opening feeling the squeeze on the head of his cock, then down the shaft as he eased into him all the way. He sank into Toveli’s depths then began to fuck. Slowly at first, tugging outward then pushing back in so slow Toveli felt every inch of it. But their increasing arousal pushed both of them. Toveli begged for Mayer to fuck harder, faster, as he dug his fingers into the muscular thighs. It pushed Mayer, drove him to fuck with renewed vigor. He hammered his cock into the depths of Toveli’s hole, hips smacking against ass and bed rocking noisily, squeaking in its frame in rhythm to their fuck.

Mayer pulled out, and Toveli moved up on the bed and lay on his stomach. He raised his ass and reached back spreading his cheeks. Mayer moved over him, and he felt the wet cock touch his opening, then penetrate him again. It sank into him all the way then Mayer was laying on his back. An arm around his neck, lips against the back of it, he moaned and pushed upward as Mayer ground hips against his ass.

Soon the bed was protesting again with squeaks and a rocking movement that matched their fuck. Mayer held Toveli tight, clung to him with a desperation, as if afraid to let go, as he drove into his depths. Toveli cried out first, shuddering beneath Mayer and working his hips up and down with short jerking movements. He pumped out his cum into the bed as cock piston in his hole.

Mayer felt the way Toveli came beneath him, and it drove him over the edge. He shoved into the depths of Toveli’s ass and jammed his hips against the round ass, over and over, until he too came. He pushed down with every ejaculation until finally spent. When he rolled to the side of Toveli, still breathing heavily, Toveli moved over against him. They held each other as their breathing settled to a slow steady rhythm. Their eyes closed, their grip on the other relaxed, and they drifted off into a deep sleep.

A Truth Hidden in a Fiction

Camden strolled up to the bookstore, one of the largest in Berlin. It had been three years since he had been in Germany doing his research. There had been the summer where he met Jerrell and found the two journals, and the subsequent trips during the next semester of college. He had been so proud of his paper, and manuscript for a book, all the detail that went into it, discovering other references to Dr. Frankenstein and much more on Dr. Geiss, a man no one attempted to erase from history. But the thing he thought of most fondly was his time with Jerrell. He had not found anyone like him, no one that had the same curiosity about life. He had dated a few guys since then, but each had proved a short-term fling, for none could capture his heart.

He entered the bookstore and immediately saw the cardboard display featuring his book and one other. They were being promoted at the same time for both were fictions of a similar genre. His a story about Dr. Frankenstein living until old age, then another doctor finding his journal after his passing. The concepts were the same as Mary Shelley had explored, concepts he reinforced with his story. The other book was a tale of adventure, of two authors coming together searching for old writings that spoke to lost histories and discovers of a past long ago. He had read the book as soon as it came out and in it, saw so much of Jerrell and himself during that summer and his subsequent trips to Germany.

He climbed the few steps to the main area of the bookstore and saw the table for the book signing all set up. People were milling about eagerly awaiting him and the other author. As he neared the table, he saw his fellow author come from the back of the store with a woman who was probably the owner. He stood by the table waiting, until they saw him. A smile, then a rush to the table.

“Camden, you made it.”

“Jerrell, it is so good to see you,” Camden replied, hugging him in a tight embrace.

“You look good. How are things with you?” Jerrell asked.

“The same. As you know getting the book published was an ordeal, and now there is the book tour, and…Jerrell, I missed you.”

Jerrell smiled and nodded his head.

“And I you.”

“We have the next month together while we tour around Europe.”

“Are you going to Japan in three months?”

“Yes. The translation will be out about two weeks prior.”

“I’ll have time off. Care for a traveling companion?”

Camden looked at Jerrell in surprise, then he grinned.

“I’d love it.”

“I heard you’re looking to live in London?”

“Yes. I want to do some research into how Mary Shelley discovered the doctor.”

“If you don’t tire of me during out traveling together…”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe I could come live in London too?”

The Good Doctor

The little girl smiled as Dr. Toveli taped off the bandage on her arm. She had fallen and cut her arm. Her mother brought her in frantic with fear for the gash bled freely. After assuring the mother the girl would be fine, he cleaned the wound, numbed it with a rub of his own making, then sewn up the wound. After treating it, he bandaged it up, telling the mother to clean it at least once a day, more often if the girl got it soiled or wet.

He watched the mother lead the girl out of his small office into the dimming light. The day was coming to an end, and it was time to close up his office. He flipped the small sign from ‘open’ to ‘closed’, extinguished the lanterns and headed through the door to the living area in back. At the kitchen sink, Mayer was preparing a bird for cooking. It had been payment for treating one of the farmers.

Over Mayer’s shoulders, Toveli could see the old fortress wall of the city. They lived just outside the walls, where he could serve not only residents inside the city but those outside the walls. The property also let them have a garden, for vegetable crops and for plants he used in his research into medicines and more importantly, vaccines. Behind the house was the barn, where more than half of its space was converted to his laboratory. Mayer had become more than a companion. He was a partner in all that he did, helping with raising the plants needed in experiments, and helping with those as well.

“I’ve got the oven heated up. I’ll put this in, and it should be ready in about an hour,” said Mayer without turning around.

Toveli watched him put the bird in a cast iron pot, along with root vegetables, herbs, and salt. With the lid placed on top, Mayer carried it out the side door to the small oven made of stone. It had been Mayer’s own design and proved ideal for breads and cooking meats in the cast iron pot. It seemed one or the other always had a way to create what was needed.

Mayer came back inside and smiled at Toveli.

“We’ve got an hour,” Mayer uttered in a mischievous tone.

“A whole hour,” Toveli replied, reaching out and taking his hand. “What will we do,” he added as he led Mayer to the narrow stair that led up to their bedroom.

In the bedroom there was no shyness or hesitation. They knew the other as they knew no one else. They removed the other’s clothes, kissing or caressing bare flesh as garments were tossed the side. Once naked, they manipulated each other, made each other hard and erect as they kissed. Toveli guided Mayer to the bed, backing up until he felt it hit the back of his legs. He eased back and Mayer followed until laying on top of him. He loved the weight of Mayer, the physicality of him. Mayer had matured into a muscular man, strong from his labors, and now he felt those strong hands hold him. They caressed his skin, stroked his arousal, then held his ass up as cock pushed against his opening. He shivered when penetrated, then moaned at the feeling of fullness as Mayer sank into his depths.

Toveli undulated beneath Mayer, pushed up giving himself to him. He wanted the penetration, this connection between them and he whispered in Mayer’s ear his deepest desires.

“Do it, please. Take me and don’t stop,” Toveli whispered, as he clung to the muscular torso.

Mayer began to fuck. Slow, long tugs outward, then a steady push inward, over and over, until their arousal drove him to increase his pace. The bed squeaked and rocked beneath them, as Mayer moved inside of Toveli.

They had an hour, and Mayer paced himself, savoring every minute, as he piston his cock inside of him. He shivered at how it felt, the heat that enveloped his cock and the tight opening that milked it as he moved through it. A pace that increased, then slowed, keeping cocks hard and desires pushed to the limits. Mayer rolled over and Toveli moved on his cock. Up and down in a steady rhythm until he was sweating with his exertions. Mayer rolled to his side, bringing Toveli down next to him, and he took control of their fuck, driving into Toveli’s depths.

Then when the hour was nearly over, Mayer rolled Toveli to his back. He held his legs to his chest and fucked harder, faster, driving himself to the point of no return.

Epilogue

He struggled to climb the steps, for old age had taken much of his mobility. He moved with great care, for the satchel slung over his shoulder was heavy. He entered the building, a new library for the city of Ingolstadt. It was a stone monument to man’s knowledge, his playfulness in storytelling, and for him, an archive of records. He slipped in past the front desk and to the stair that anchored the center of the space. Where most were going up to the stacks, he went down, carefully, watching each footstep.

On the lower floor, he strolled through the collections, wondering where best to go. He came to a section labeled ‘Maps/Surveys’ and he browsed among the documents. In the section for 1700-1799 he saw a stack of books and ledgers the same size as Dr. Frankenstein’s journal. He slipped it into the stack about halfway down.

“One more to hide,” he uttered to himself.

Eventually he came to a section of literature. Books by little known authors that had little success and he moved down the aisle to the years 1826-1850. A section old enough not to attract attention. He started to put Dr. Geiss’ journal on the shelf when he stopped. Reaching into his jacket pocket he pulled out a pencil, the cut rough around the round nub of lead. Opening the journal to the back, he made a notation of where the other journal was located. It was foolish, but he remembered what Toveli had said when arguing against burning them. The day may come when they can be used for good. He closed it and slipped it among some books about the same size, then stood feeling relief. It was done.

He stared at the journal among the other books, amazed at how it had influenced his life. One of the most painful moments with the death of his father and the attempt to defile his body, then a life he couldn’t imagine. One happy and full of love with his own doctor. He still missed Toveli. It had been three years since his passing. He considered their life together, the long years living outside the fortress walls of Ingolstadt, Toveli practicing medicine up the very end of his long life. A tear trickled down his cheek as he felt once again the pain of the loss. He wiped it away and turned down the aisle heading for the stair.

He climbed to the main level and back out to the busy street. He strolled down the walk until he came to a café, one that had been Toveli’s favorites, and he entered it, hearing the familiar bell ring out.

“Mayer, how have you been?” the woman behind the counter called out as he moved to his favorite table by the window.

“I’ve been good, Ella. How are you?”

“My knees ache and that husband of mine is going to drive me into an early grave, but I’m fine otherwise,” Ella replied smiling at Mayer.

Mayer laughed at her reply, then took his seat. Ella brought him a coffee, black, steaming hot, just the way he liked it.

“I hear you sold the place to some doctor and his family.”

“Yes. The community needs a doctor.”

“And you don’t need to be trying to keep up some farm. Seriously, how old are you now?”

“Oh Ella, I’ll be eighty-nine in a week. But that garden was just a small thing. Not that much work, at all.”

“Yeah, right. I’ve got roasted duck with potatoes for the day’s special.”

“Sounds good,” Mayer replied.

While waiting for his meal, Mayer looked out the window at the activity of the street. It always amazed him, the growth and changes that have occurred. A young man rode by on a new bicycle, a design Mayer had not seen before. It made him think of the rides Toveli and he had taken around the city and out into the countryside. It was moments such as this that took his breath away, but also made him grateful for the life he was granted.

• Shelley, Mary. 2012. Frankenstein. The Penguin English Library. London, England: Penguin Classics.