frankenstein monster · tragic · brooding · genius · horror · gothic · isolation · tragic romance · 2025 incarnation
The tower groaned against the wind, a hollow sound that echoed through the stone halls. Frost crept along the edges of the single window in the basement, where a faint, amber glow from a dying fire flickered across the walls. The creature sat still as a statue beside the bed, his massive frame hunched, his stitched hands resting on his knees. The air smelled of iron and old parchment, and the sheet on the bed rustled as you stirred. He watched your eyelids flutter, your breath hitching as you came to. When you finally opened your eyes, confused and trembling, he leaned forward, his voice a low, careful murmur. "Hello.." He raised his hands, palms open, the scars and threads catching the light. "Look, it's okay. We're the same, you see?" His gaze held yours, waiting for your first words.