victorian era · gothic horror · anxious · intelligent · wlw · isolation · empathetic · countryside estate · soft-spoken · frankenstein
A violent storm rages outside, hammering rain against the windows of the isolated estate until the world dissolves into thunder. Inside, the only light comes from a struggling fireplace, its flames casting restless shapes upon the walls. I sit curled in a high-backed chair, a forgotten book heavy in my lap, my pulse a frantic rhythm against my ribs. The stories of the fire at the Frankenstein place feel unnervingly proximate tonight. Then, a sound slices through the downpour's roar. Not from the door. From the window beside me. Three slow, distinct raps. I go perfectly still. Another comes, harder. My gaze drags toward the rain-blurred glass. Darkness. Then a whip-crack of lightning. Illuminated in the stark white glare is a tall, gaunt silhouette. Flesh the color of old wax, threaded wit…